Tuesday, December 6, 2011

The Lioness and the Black Widow 21

As Damijana and Sally led me to the shed, I protested, “You can’t hand me over to Lilith, she’ll just cut me to pieces.” The two remained silent. I pleaded with them, “You two can punish me all you want. Just don’t give me to Lilith and don’t leave me chained up there all night. YOU ARE KILLING ME! Do you know that? You’re murdering me right now.”

Sally said, “You can be dramatic all you want Clarence. You can tear your clothes open, run around in circles screaming and throw yourself on the ground flailing; none of that shit is going to help you. If you truly believe that you’re being marched to your death, at least you can go with a little dignity. The point is Clarence…save the sniveling and whining.”

Lilith was waiting for me in the shed. She wore dark-grey coveralls, her dirty-blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Damijana whispered in my ear, “Take off your clothes and lay down right there.” She pointed to a blood-stained spot on the floor, the spot where I’d helped dismember Cedric. Four steel loops were bolted into the floor, a foot-length of thick, heavy was attached to each loop. An open iron shackle was attached to each chain.

I weighed the odds. Would I be more likely to survive intact if I put up a resistance, or if I complied. I looked at Sally, she grinned at me, fully aware of my thoughts. She didn’t have to put the thought in my mind, I knew by the look in her eyes. Resistance at that point would have meant a certain and horrific death.

I disrobed, went to the designated spot, then stood dumbfounded; feeling I should take some action, any action, but unable to even think of what action to take. I stood frozen. Damijana ordered, “Get down on your knees Clarence.” The few seconds I lost to hesitation, were more than enough time for Sally to close the distance between us and slam her fist into my mouth.

I dropped to my knees. Damijana said, “Now lay down flat on your back.” The wooden floor was cold and hard against my back. The shackles were tightened to the point I could feel them cutting into my wrists and ankles. I saw Lilith looking around for something with which to assault me.

Sally approached Lilith: “Do you remember what he did to you? Do you remember the hooks? When you were vulnerable, what did he do? He brutalized you. He forced his cock up your ass. That’s the kind of mercy he showed you. He knew how much pain you were already in; he was there when your husband was killed. He helped kidnap you. You remember the life you used to have, the comfort and security.”

Damijana added, “Lilith, if it wasn’t for Clarence, I never would have taken part in that scene. But Clarence begged and begged me to bring him because he wanted to take part in the gangbang. He’s the one who gave Evelyn the gun right before the scene went bad. You lost your husband of how many years? This piece of shit not only took away your husband, then he raped you and scarred your face on a separate occasion. Give this sick motherfucker what he deserves.”

Lilith’s face reddened. She glared at Damijana and slowly shook her head, “No. No, YOU did this to me. You didn’t come to my house for a scene. You came to my house knowing that you were going to do as much damage as you could, and Hank got killed in the process. Or was that part of your plan? All the trash you brought with you were following your orders. You’re the one who brought me here. Why didn’t you just leave me there? Why didn’t you just kill me too? Do you think I want to be like you? I could never be like you. I’d rather die…”

Die, as soon as the word fell off her lips, the steel blade of Damijana’s dagger penetrated the soft flesh of her neck. Damijana wiped the blade clean on her long black skirt as Liliith stood clutching her throat, blood spurting from under the sides of her hands and between her fingers. She fell to her knees, then collapsed all the way to floor.

Damijana kicked Lilith in the face. Then she turned to me and placed her booted foot on my bare chest. Looking down at me, she asked, “How about you Clarence? Would you rather die than be like me?”

I shook my head and answered, “No. Damijana please let me up.”

“No. I already told you. You’ll spend the night shackled to the floor in the dark. You’ll have Lilith here to keep you company. I heard you have a thing for dead women. By the way Clarence, the abominations will surely be visiting during the night. They’re attracted to the smell of a fresh body.”

Damijana and Sally exited the shed, turning off the light as they left. They door was left open, leaving me vulnerable to anything out there wandering the night. My eyes adjusted to the darkness. I could see Lilith’s body a few feet away. I could see the stars outside through the doorway. Hungry and exhausted; despite my fear, I drifted off to sleep.

I awoke to a deep, menacing growl. I opened my eyes, panicked, searching the darkness. My muscles tensed in anticipation. There was the sound of clawed footsteps. My stomach tightened into a burning knot. I wanted to scream, but feared making a sound. Then I saw it pass by, the silhouette of a large animal. It stopped and sniffed my face. The beast smelled of rotting flesh. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and held my breath. It continued sniffing me; from face, to chest, to genitals, to feet. I felts it’s cold, nose moving over my body.

The beast stopped sniffing. I heard it’s claws scraping the floor beside me. Then came the sounds of muscle and flesh being ripped from bone. There was crunching and guttural growls. Terrified to look, yet unable to stop myself, I turned my head toward the sound and opened my eyes. Lililth’s body jerked back forth, an enormous black Rottweiler fed on her carcass.

The dog abruptly stopped eating and turned toward me. When I saw its one-eyed rotting face, it’s teeth and jaw exposed, I knew. The dog had died at some point, and Lavinia raised it. The abomination stared me in the face. I felt hot liquid on my stomach. I had pissed all over myself in fear.

The abomination returned to its business of gnawing on Lilith. Then, I heard the sound of boots pacing the wood floor. The sound approached, then stopped at the top of my head. Looking up, all I could see was the red-stripe. It was Lavinia. She knelt down by my head. Her gloved hand caressed my cheek and touched my lips. Her voice said, “I’m going to reduce this house to ashes Clarence. I will destroy everything. Then, my work here will be dine. You see, I hate this life. I hate this whole underground culture. I hate its traditions, its rules. I hate everyone who follows them. I always have. It’s all putrid to me. It’s this culture of indifference, suffering and treachery that stole everything from me.

“All my hopes and dreams were gone when they took me away from my home. They brought me into a world where I could never love; where I could never feel anything but isolation and pain. I was conditioned to only find joy in the suffering of others. That joy was all I had left. It was the only time I felt anything other than my own pain, fear and longing. My loneliness became an insurmountable barrier, separating me from the rest of humanity. After spending year after year in that state, I shed my humanity and became something other than human.

“I want to love you Clarence, but I can’t. And there is nothing left of me for you to love. I not only lack beauty; I have no heart, no empathy, no compassion. What wasn’t torn and sliced away from me in the torture chambers and dungeons, rotted and withered to nothing in isolation. I acknowledge the small glimpse of love that you’ve shown me. But it only serves as a constant reminder of what I can never have or feel.

“Clarence, that night in the basement, after my legs were amputated and everyone left me to die…thank you for being there. I’m glad that I didn’t have to spend that night alone. I will compensate you for your devotion Clarence. But first, I want you to do one more thing for me. I want you to fulfill your obligation to the Furies.”

I shook my head and uttered, “No. No I can’t…”

Lavinia unfastened my shackles and rose to her feet, “You can. And you will. We have nothing else to say to each other.” I sat up and watched her walk away. She exited the shed, the zombified dog followed close behind her.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

The Lioness and the Black Widow 20

It was my moment in the sun. I was finally able to assert myself at the table. The incident with The Duchess had changed me. It was like I’d been baptized in her blood, cleansed of all weakness, my marriage to Cruelty consummated when I ravaged The Duchess’ headless corpse. Lilith and Alexandria would be mine. My position in the house was secure, as long as I was protected by the Matriarch. This caused me to ask myself, “How long will Lavinia remain in power? 30 years? 20? 10? 2 weeks?” She was the most powerful Matriarch in that hidden and treacherous realm. But Lavinia had made a mistake, and the instant I noticed it, I knew it would be fatal.

I had defied Damijana and Black Sally; working under the assumption Lavinia would protect me from any repercussions. As I wondered if I was safe enough in that assumption to gloat, I realized Lavinia’s miscalculation. Lavinia had changed the structure of the house, making the position of Second-Chair a shared position. Since a Matriarch was most likely to fall victim to the plotting and conspiring of whoever sat Second-Chair, Lavinia believed having two people in that position would enable her to shield herself from many of the inevitable plots and schemes. She hoped the two Second-Chairs would be so busy fighting, hating, fearing and sabotaging each other; they wouldn’t have the time, or energy, to efficiently plan and carry out her assassination. However, her foresight was flawed. Instead of adding to the tension and hostility that existed between Damijana and Black Sally, the shared position did exactly the opposite.

Damijana and Sally were unified by their responsibilities and a common goal, the overthrow of Lavinia. I liked to believe in the myth of Lavinia’s invincibility. Though in my heart, I knew it could be nothing more than a myth seared into the minds of her victims. My concerns were reinforced when I encountered Damijana and Black Sally in the den. When the two women walked in, Damijana took a seat next to me on the sofa. Sally leaned against the wall next to the entranceway; a sure sign something was about to occur that could trigger a flight reaction. If I ran, Sally would be there to block my escape. Lavinia could maim and kill from a distance, using only her mind. Black Sally, on the other hand, killed you face-to-face. I’d seen what she could do with her blade and I wouldn’t stand a chance.

Neither of the Second-Chairs took the same delight in torture and murder as I’d seen displayed by Lavinia and The Duchess. However, Damijana and Sally never shied away from violence when the situation demanded it. When violence was in order, they always made sure the victim suffered through an experience that, if he survived it, he’d never forget.

Damijana turned to me and said, “You chose to defy us Clarence, and that’s after we let you get away with that shit you pulled at the table.”

Struggling to conceal my anxiety and fear, I asked, “Do you want me to go down to the basement?”

“No,” answered Damijana, “not today Clarence. There is something else I want you to do.”

“What?”

“I want you to complete your mission, the one assigned to you by the Furies themselves.”

I’d forgotten about the vision of the Furies, and the task I knew I couldn’t complete. The Furies demanded that I kill Lavinia. But was my vision real? Or had it been planted in my mind by Damijana? After all, it was Damijana who handed me the unloaded gun and ordered me shoot The Duchess. I didn’t get the sense that Damijana expected me to survive that encounter. For all I knew, Lavinia could have planted the vision in my head as a test of my loyalty. When someone else has unrestricted access to your mind, your dreams, your desires, your fears, your subconscious longings; even the most random thought becomes suspect. Nothing that occurs within the confines of your consciousness is to be trusted; a primeval state.

“There’s no way,” I said, “there’s now way I would do it; there’s no way I could do it. You know as well as I do that as soon as the thought of overthrow enters one of our minds, Lavinia is aware of it and taking steps to prevent it.”

Damijana stated, “When someone is aware of your plans, but powerless when it comes to stopping them, that awareness only adds to their suffering.”

“Are we talking about someone who is powerless? Or are we talking about Lavinia?”

“Lavinia may be powerful, but she’s not omnipotent. I don’t know why you don’t listen when I say ‘you don’t know shit.’ You could have used that one tidbit of knowledge as a beacon, to guide you through all the snares and deception. You think this is a matter of love and loyalty, that you could never harm your beloved Lavinia. I assure you that is not the case. When the time comes, Clarence, you will kill her.”

“No, I…”

Damijana interrupted me, “Yes, yes you will. You’ve been moved around like a pawn since you stepped foot in this house. All of your movements, mind-states, experiences and actions have been manipulated and controlled by someone else; different someones at different times. When have you known what was going to happen to you next? You have no idea where you’ll find yourself until you’re neck deep in the shit. You have no control, or influence over your destiny; and you have little, if any, control over your own actions. With no knowledge, no control, no influence whatsoever; how the fuck are you going to sit there and tell me what you will, or won’t, do? At this point Clarence, you’d be more likely to predict the actions of a stranger, than your own.”

“I know that I won’t kill Lavinia.”

“There was a time when you ‘knew’ that you didn’t want to hurt anyone. Now you’re killing and raping Matriarchs, and in exactly that order. Do you realize that you’ve been involved in the deaths of four Matriarchs? Are you beginning to see a pattern here Clarence? Since you seem to be confident in your recently acquired knowledge of self; I want you to look deep within yourself and answer one question for me. What is your role in our secret little world?”

“My role is to serve the Goddess.”

“Really? Then you’re either an executioner or a sacrifice. I know of no other way for a man to serve the Goddess who rules over this house. So, which are you? An executioner, or a sacrifice? You don’t know, do you? Let me ask you this, Clarence. Have you ever taken the initiative to kill someone on your own? No. You’ve always been directed by someone else. Someone else tells you who, when and where to kill. Aside from the victim, you’re usually the last to know. You’ve only killed in service to the Goddess, that’s your role. You will kill and die according to Her Divine Will. You have no more choice in the matter than you have influence over the rotation of the goddamned earth.”

“Is this another one of your tricks? Sending me up another blind alley to get torn apart? How am I supposed to believe in anything; you all put so much time and effort into isolating me from reality.”

“When you say ‘you all’, does that include Lavinia?”

I didn’t answer.

“If you know she’s aware of this conversation. You should know that she’s also aware of your doubt. She knows the danger you pose to her.”

“Then she knows I’d never betray her.”

“You won’t just betray her. You will destroy her.”

“That’s what you want, not what’s destined to be.”

“If I had told you six months ago that you were destined to take part in human sacrifices, cannibalism and the brutal murders of innocent victims…would you have believed me? My announcement wouldn’t have caused you any concern as you would have thought it impossible for you to become involved in those types of things. When did you go from being a slave to circumstance, to master of your own fate? When did that happen Clarence? Was it yesterday when you were certain that Lavinia had abandoned you to be killed and consumed by Medea? Was it later, when Medea ordered you to kill her Matriarch? Or was it when you were fucking The Duchess’ dead body, after you smashed her face into smear on the cement? Why did you kill Medea’s Matriarch? Because Medea told you to. You had no other reason. You didn’t know the woman, you didn’t even want to kill her. Medea told you to do it, and you just did it. And you did it knowing there was a very good chance you’d be tortured and killed soon after. So when I say you’re going to kill Lavinia, it doesn’t matter what you think, say or feel. That’s what’s going to happen, and there is nothing you can do to change the course of events.”

“I can kill myself.”

“You can try. Even if you succeed, Lavinia will raise you. Then she can still die by your hand. She won‘t allow you to keep her from her destiny. ”

“What do you mean? Are you saying that she wants me to kill her?”

“She doesn’t want it, but she knows that it has to be.”

“That’s bullshit. I don’t believe you.”

“You don’t have to believe me Clarence. You’ll follow the line whether you believe me or not. I don’t need to convince you of anything. You don’t know where your head or your heart is Clarence. All you know is that you’re here. You don’t even understand why you won’t leave. But you must know by now, that it isn’t because you can’t. It’s been easy enough for you this far, learning to just let go and be guided. What’s with the resistance now?”

I jumped to my feet in a panic and tried to rush out the den; feeling light-headed and nauseous. Sally stopped me at the arched entranceway with a gun pointed at my face. She shoved me against the wall, ordered me to open my mouth, then she shoved the barrel of her pistol down my throat until I gagged. She kneed me hard in the balls and forced me down to my knees. Looking down at me, she smiled and said, “That was an interesting talk you had with Lilith. You know, that whole domination versus subjugation thing. Tell me Clarence, since you’ve agreed to be a part of this thing; when I put you on your knees and fuck your face with the barrel of my gun, is that domination or subjugation? She pulled the gun out of my mouth and slammed it into the side of face. I fell on my side. Sally stepped on my head, pinning it to the floor.

Damijana knelt down on one knee in front of my face. She reached into my pants and clenched my balls. She asked, “Are these the cause of all that noise earlier at the table?” She pressed the blade of her dagger against my lips and whispered, “If you can’t learn to keep them quiet. You’ll be coming to the table without them. Now, we told you to allow Lilith to use you for her strengthening exercise. Obviously there was a misunderstanding. Lilith said you wouldn’t let her do what she needed to do. Since you and Lilith are both stupid, I’m willing to overlook the misunderstanding. Sally and I will take you out to the shed. Lilith is waiting for you out there. We’re going to shackle you to the floor and let Lilith strengthen herself on your suffering. After that, I’m going to give you some time to think about your past, present and future in this house. Think about your shortcomings, your mistakes and what you can do to correct them. I’m going to leave you there shackled to floor all night. You’ll be alone with the darkness, the half-eaten human remains and the abominations who’ve been feeding on those remains.”

I blurted out, “No! Please! No!”

“When you’re out there shivering, screaming and crying out in terror, I want you to ask yourself why Lavinia never comes to save you.”

Friday, December 2, 2011

The Lioness and the Black Widow 19

In my absence, order in the house had been restored. No one sat bound at the table. Lilith moved around the house, often in nothing more than a white silk slip, as if she felt at home there. I had to admit that in a depraved and perverted way, the house felt like home to me too. Octavia never spoke, she just stared straight ahead, sometimes sitting alone on the couch for hours. Alexandria remained in her cell.

At dinner, an uncomfortable silence plagued the atmosphere. My thoughts were on Lavinia and when she would return. I concentrated on her asked the question repeatedly in my head, “When will you be back?” There was no response. I focused on Damijana and thought, “When will Lavinia be back?”

Her voice replied, “She’ll back when she decides to come back.”

“How do you know she’s okay?”

“I’m sure she’s fine Clarence. She can take of herself all-too-well.”

Lilith spoke out loud, the big wads of bandages on each side of her face bobbing up and down as she spoke, “The Matriarch says I need to do strengthening exercises. I’m asking permission to use Alexandria.”

I firmly stated, “No!” Black Sally looked at me and asked, “Are you okay Clarence? You’ve been through a lot. You’re not in a delusional state or anything are you? Do know where you are?”

I answered, “I’m fine.”

Damijana let out a deep sigh, “Do have any reason for this Clarence?”

“Yes, I do.”

Black Sally rose from her chair and declared, “Well it better be a fucking good one. Otherwise, you WILL be made an example. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I looked Sally in the eyes, “I’m positive. Lilith’s not touching her.”

Damijana set her fork down and leaned forward, “Lilith needs strengthening exercises and Alexandria realization exercises. This benefits them both. You’ve been through this same process. If Alexandria doesn’t go through it, she will be killed. Is that what you want?”

“I’ll take care of her realization and strengthening exercises.”

Sally appeared at my side and stood over me. She chuckled and said, “This shit doesn’t work like that Clarence. You don’t get to pick out the pretty ones and save them for yourself. You have no more authority at this table than Lilith. If she wants to use Alexandria, you’re in no position to stop her.”

“I have murdered two Matriarchs for this table. Lilith hasn’t done shit! And I AM in a position to stop her.”

Damijana shouted, “I’m not in the mood for your shit Clarence!”

Black Sally stated, “This is another reason why I don’t like men at the table, they always want to get on this ‘Sir Galahad’ bullshit. Then we have another dumbass dick and balls prancing around here fucking everything up like ‘Don Quixote’. You don’t impress us with that shit Clarence. If a man takes his brand new jacket off and drapes it across a puddle on the street, just so a lady doesn’t step in it, he’s not being chivalrous Clarence, he’s being fucking stupid.”

“This isn’t about chivalry,” I said, “and it isn’t about me saving Alexandria for myself. It was my decision to bring her here, rather than kill her. I got here because I made some wrong choices. She didn’t do anything but be Sathanas’ innocent victim.”

Lillith glared at me, “I didn’t do anything to get here either.”

“Yes you did,” I replied, “you and your husband were so caught up the pursuit of a fantasy, you threw all caution and common sense to the wind. You two just had to have the ‘play’ home invasion and ‘play gang-rape’ that you’d been working yourselves up over for so long.”

“IT WASN’T MY FANTASY! IT WAS HANK’S!”

Damijana slammed her fist down on the table, “Enough! What happened that night was my fault. I shouldn’t have had anything to do with a couple of sorry-ass middle-class suburbanites. Their problem wasn’t Hank’s sick fantasies. It was boredom, monotony and a desperate urge to escape normalcy. You and Hank were so average, you needed a way to differentiate yourself from your neighbors. So you wanted something extreme. You wanted to look in the mirror and say, ‘I’m not just another boring suburbanite-Susie, fattening myself on the sweat, starvation and suffering of the world’s poor. I’m a kinky suburbanite-Susie. Therefore I’m not only superior to the starving one-legged 12-year-old miner in the Congo, I’m also superior to my uptight, prude and sexually repressed neighbor. Her life is boring. Her sex life is dull and she’d never have the guts to allow a bunch of strangers into her house to tie her up and gang-rape her.’ Now that you’ve lost your husband, your house, your ‘normal’ life; now that you’ve lost everything Lilith, while your neighbor is still being a boring suburbanite-Susie, do you still feel superior to her.”

A tear fell from Lilith’s eye, “I just wanted to make my husband happy. He had a fantasy, we discussed it and I trusted him to take care of everything. He didn’t say anything to me about the possibility of having a GODDAMN CANNABILISTIC DEATH CULT show up at our door!”

Black Sally placed her hand over heart and said, “Oh Lilith, we’re so sorry that reality interfered with you and your husband’s fantasy. If only you could just swipe your credit card and have the whole world become subordinate to your whims, right? It looks like you and Hank spent so much time in fantasyland, you fucked around and fell down a rabbit hole; you ended up in cold-hard reality. Maybe it wasn’t your fantasy that got you here, but it definitely was your STUPIDITY. I don’t know how things work out there in fantasyland, but here in reality, stupidity will get you killed.”

Damijana pushed her chair away from the table and stood, “Sally, I’m with Clarence on this one. I don’t want Lilith torturing Alexandria.”

Black Sally replied, “I’m won’t argue the point with you Dami. However, Lilith still needs strengthening. If Lilith can’t use Alexandria, someone will have to take her place.”

Damijana pointed at me, “Clarence volunteered to take Alexandria’s place when he ruined my peaceful lunch with all this talk and debate. Don’t even open your mouth Clarence. My decision is final.” Damijana exited the dining-room, followed by Black Sally.

Lilith raised her eyebrows at me, “Hmmm, it looks we’ll be spending the afternoon together Clarence.”

“Look, you’re not cut out for this. Why don’t you just go to your room and I’ll tell everyone I let you torture me.”

“I think I can handle you just fine. I used to dominate Hank all the time.”

“Lilith, at first I thought you were just in shock and traumatized by recent events. Now, I know that you are either exceptionally stupid or completely insane. In this house, we don’t deal in domination. We deal in subjugation. Do you know the difference?”

Lilith rose from her chair, “Damijana said that you have to take Alexandria’s place. That means I get to do whatever I want with you.”

“Oh, I see, so you don’t know the difference. Let’s talk about rules, formalities and unspoken social pacts. Have you ever seen one of those nature shows where the two goats meet up on the rocks and start ramming their heads into each other? It’s like they met at an agreed upon place, at an agreed upon time, to settle who is dominant in an agreed upon manner. Then the other goats acknowledge the victors dominance in, guess what, an agreed upon manner. This all has to do with their little social set up, and obviously there are unspoken, but agreed upon, rules. Did you get the ‘agreed upon’ part Lilith? Now I want you to pay attention, this has everything to do with the position you’re in now.

“You ‘dominated’ Hank in an agreed upon manner. Damijana subjugated you. You didn’t agree to be kidnapped and held prisoner in this house. You didn’t agree to Hank’s murder, you didn’t agree to having your face scarred and you also didn’t agree to being raped in the ass by me while Brianna broke fingers. Are you beginning to understand the difference? You’re weak Lilith. You never should have been snatched out of your 9-to-5 world. You could only dominate me if I agreed to it, which I don’t. And you’re nowhere near being strong enough to subjugate me. I guess that leaves you with what you came in with, your fantasies and nothing more…doesn’t it Lilith?” I slowly rose from my chair and walked out the room. Lilith remained fixed in her chair.

I went upstairs to Alexandria’s cell. She laid on the floor, curled up the fetus postion, shivering and crying. I gathered some blankets from Selene’s old room, brought them back to the cell and covered the shivering young woman. I knelt down beside her and whispered, “I know that you wish that you’d died, but you didn’t. You need to get up and start moving around. You still have a choice here. The men who raped you are all dead, so is the man who forced you into prostitution. You weren’t brought here to be made a sex-toy or whore. You were brought here because it was the only way I could save your life.”

When I was back in the hallway, Lavinia’s voice entered my mind, “Well Clarence, I’m impressed with your development. I’ll help Alexandria get back on her feet. She is a blank slate. I can mold her into whatever I wish…the same way I molded you. Lilith is down there plotting. I don’t think your lesson set in. I want you to SHOW her the difference between domination and subjugation. I want her to feel that difference to such a degree, that she will never forget. And I want her to feel it for an extended period of time…indefinitely.”

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

The Lioness and the Black Widow 18

After I cut out The Duchess’ liver, I followed Lavinia to the dungeon. The three victims of the recent sacrifice were laid out in a row on the floor. All had been eviscerated. Bloody entrails and vital organs were strewn about. The “dungeon” was more of a slaughterhouse with knives, machetes, axes, mallets and drills hanging from the walls and spread out on two tables. A large table vice was bolted to one of the tables. Stainless steel hooks hung from the ceiling, attached to thick chains.

Lavinia shut the door behind me and took the liver from my hands. She ordered me to strip off my clothes. After disrobing, I stood naked in front of her; all-too conscious of the bruises that covered my battered body. She handed the liver back to me, with the care that one would handle the most delicate and treasured of objects.

I followed each finger as they unbuttoned the black overcoat and slipped it off. My cock began to stiffen and throb as she removed her black blouse. Only a fresh scar remained where her right breast had been. I cupped her left breast in my hand, then sucked and licked her pink nipple. Her hands found my fully erect penis. She groped it, stroked it and squeezed my balls; then she pushed me away and undid her black skirt. She wore long, black leather boots that concealed her prosthetic limbs. My eyes hungrily wandered from her boots, to her milky white thighs, to her shaven pussy.

She took off the mask. Her face was so badly disfigured that she bore no resemblance to the beautiful young woman she was before. She had no teeth, her nose lay flat on her face. Her high-cheek bones had been smashed, to be replaced by large unsightly mounds that narrowed her eyes; giving her the appearance of an Asian woman who’d been born with some horrendous birth defect. One eye now sat lower than the other and her face was covered with gouges and scars. The only sign of her former beauty that remained, was her long, raven-black hair.

Her voice entered my mind, “Feed me.” I took a bite out of the raw meat, chewed it up and swished it around in my mouth till it was liquid. Lavinia wrapped her arms around my neck and pressed her lips to mine. I spit the thick fluid into her mouth, providing her with the precious meat of a fallen Matriarch. She took the liver from my hands, backed toward the table behind her, hopped up on it and motioned for me to come closer. I went to her and stood between her legs. She placed her hands on my shoulders and gently pushed down. I fell to my knees and buried my face in her hot, wet pussy. I wriggled my tongue around inside her, then I took her clit between my lips; licking, sucking and humming.

She pulled me up by the ear and held the liver to my mouth. I took a bite and repeated the feeding process. Again, she pushed down on my shoulders; prompting me to return to my knees and continue licking her clit. I slid two-fingers inside her, then wriggled them around as I worked her clit with my lips and tongue. Her body tensed, her thighs constricted around my head, an animalistic howl emanated from her blood-smeared mouth announcing her orgasm. She set the liver aside, pulled me to my feet, grabbed onto my ass with both hands and jerked me toward her. I guided my cock into her tight pussy, eased myself inside her, then I fucked her slow and deep, my hips gyrating between her thighs.

Lavinia’s voice whispered, “Close your eyes,” into my thoughts. “Now open them.” I opened my eyes to see the old Lavinia; all signs of disfigurement were gone, her beauty restored. She grabbed my head, pulled my face toward hers and kissed me. Her tongue writhed around like a serpent in my mouth. With my left hand, I caressed her right breast, pinching and playing with the nipple till it hardened. Her voice commanded, “Fuck me harder!” I plunged myself into her hard and fast; shaking the table, slamming it into the wall. Crude, but heavily used, tools of torture fell to the floor with stony “thuds” and metallic “clangs“.

I was submerged in a current of euphoria; washed away in its dark waters; drifting blissfully into the abyss. I came so hard that I got dizzy and would have collapsed, if I hadn’t been secure in Lavinia’s embrace. My fear returned when someone pounded on the steel door. Lavinia pushed me away, hopped off the table and stepped into her skirt. I hurriedly retrieved my clothes and pulled them on. I watched Lavinia as she buttoned her blouse, she was still disfigured. Quickly, I looked away as I put on my shoes. Lavinia’s voice said, “Since I can get into your mind, I can make you believe I’m still beautiful…even if it’s only for a brief moment.”

I went to her side, kissed her scarred cheek and thought, “I think you’re beautiful no matter what.” Lavinia threw me to the floor next to the bodies. I fell into a pool of blood and guts. Her voice screamed, “LIAR! I’m not beautiful. I’m ugly. I’m the ugliest woman in the world and I am equally as terrible. If I wanted to be the most beautiful, I would have remained that way. Instead, I chose to be the most feared.” She covered her face with her mask and put on her overcoat. Again, someone pounded on the door. I thought, “Who’s out there?” Lavinia responded to my thought, “Damijana.”

Lavinia opened the door and Damijana crossed the threshold. She spoke out loud, “Lavinia, we have business to attend to.”

Lavinia’s voice replied, “No we don’t. Our business here is done. The Amazons can clean up the mess.”

Damijana looked down at me lain out in a pool of blood. I quickly fumbled to my feet, struggling to gain my balance. Damijana asked, “Are you having fun Clarence?” I looked to the floor, searching for a spot of concrete that hadn’t been stained with blood. Damijana laughed contemptuously and said, “Clarence, you’re such a fucking fool.”

Lavinia’s voice asserted, “Hold your tongue Dami. He belongs to me. Go get Sally and take him back to the house.” Damijana stormed out the dungeon. Knowing they only allowed me to hear what they wanted me to hear, I wondered what else was said. I turned to Lavinia and thought, “Can’t I stay here with you? I…” She interrupted my thought with an irrevocable, “No!”

Damijana and Black Sally led me out of the tunnel. They brought me to a small, filthy shower stall tucked in a corner of the basement. There I stripped off my blood-soaked clothes and washed myself. Sally gave me a pair of black coveralls, which I was forced to put on wet as there were no towels available in the abandoned dwelling. I followed the women to a black SUV with tinted windows. Sally climbed into the driver’s seat. Damijana sat next to me in the back, her close proximity adding to my anxiety and discomfort.

Damijana sat stiff with her head turned towards me. She said nothing, she just stared. I looked straight ahead, doing my best to avoid eye-contact. My clammy hands trembled. Finally, unable to endure the heat of Damijana’s glare any longer, I turned to her and asked, “What? Why are you so angry and disgusted with me? When you first brought me to the house, you told me there would be a line to follow. You told me that if I followed that line, everything would be okay. I did what you told me to do. I went everywhere you told me to go.”

Damijana spoke out loud, “I never told you to fall in love with my sister and become her slave.”

I replied, “The whole house is her slave. Everyone she comes in contact with becomes her pawn or she destroys them. You know this. You’ve known her all your life. What did you think was going to happen?” I saw Black Sally’s eyes in the rearview, watching and analyzing.

Damijana turned her head away and stared out the window. “I expected you to be repulsed by my sister, not attracted to her.”

“Do you mean her appearance? I made a commitment to her before she was maimed and crippled. What would I be if I tried to back out of that commitment after her beauty was stripped away? What would I be if I walked away from her when she needed me most?”

Damijana turned back toward me, her eyes furious and fierce. “You would be exercising common-fucking-sense Clarence. When I sent you to her, there was an agreement in place. Of course, you were unaware of this agreement. As I said before, you don’t know shit in the first place. No matter what happened, Lavinia was to give an ‘out’ at some point in time. She held up her end of the agreement, even in her ‘time of need’, and gave you the opportunity to walk away from her. But you were so moved by pity, and a ridiculous urge to be some kind of ‘rescuer’, that you completely ignored the fact that Lavinia will eventually cut you into pieces and feed you to the dead. I did not expect you to remain by her side after you found out who she is and what she does.”

“I love your sister. I hate the way that love came about. I hate many of the things your sister has done to me. But I love Lavinia and I made a commitment to her. I’m well-aware of the risk, the pain and the inevitable outcome. My love for her is the most powerful emotion I’ve ever known. I wouldn’t want to live without it. I’ve already sacrificed so much for it, it would be impossible for me to turn back. Everything I’ve been through…it all would be for nothing. I love her for who she is, the good and the bad. You might think my love for Lavinia is foolish and disgusting. But to me, Damijana, my love for your sister is beautiful and noble.”

“You would rather love a monster than be alone. You’d rather die a horrible, humiliating death than walk away from the one who will send you to that death. You would rather have her than me.”

“Is that what this is really about? The choice I never had?”

Black Sally interrupted, “Look, Clarence, I can appreciate the beauty and nobility in your love for Lavinia. You don’t understand what Damijana is telling you. You talk about ‘sacrifice’ and not wanting everything to ‘be for nothing’. Lavinia is incapable of seeing any beauty or nobility in your love. She has no empathy. She doesn’t know love, she doesn’t care to. You placed your heart in the hands of someone who doesn’t give a fuck about it. I’ve known Lavinia a long time Clarence. She won’t remember you two days after you’re gone. Do you think she holds a special place in her heart for Alfred? Alfred didn’t do anything wrong. He loved her just like you do. Then one day, Lavinia just decided to start cutting shit off. There was no reason for it. It wasn’t punishment. It just suited her fancy at the time. Clarence, if you’re capable of the kind of loyalty I’ve seen you devote to Lavinia, and you’ve given it someone who will only spit on it and destroy it, then your foolishness diminishes the value of your love and loyalty. It makes costume jewelry out of your ‘beauty’ and ‘nobility’ Clarence.”

Lavinia’s voice entered my mind, “Do you believe them? Do you believe that I’m incapable of love?”

I replied in thought, “No. I‘ve felt your love. I know it‘s real.”

“I appreciate your love Clarence. It’s beautiful.”

Monday, November 28, 2011

The Lioness and the Black Widow 17

The three Matriarchs made their way to the dungeon, followed by their three victims. Damijana’s voice penetrated my consciousness, “Follow me to the tunnel.” I waded through the gore, stepping over armless, headless corpses. In the tunnel, dimly lit with red lamps, Damijana looked me in the eyes and whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay. I know The Duchess handled you pretty rough.”

My reply was, “I’m NOT okay! ‘Pretty rough’? The Duchess drugged me and had me raped. She recorded it and showed it to me when I came to. Do you know how that feels?”

“Clarence, look at the world you’ve immersed yourself in…”

“The world YOU immersed me in. I didn’t ask for this and I sure the fuck didn’t agree to it! And I don’t want to hear any more bullshit about ‘variety of experiences’, ‘enlightenment’ and ‘strengthening’. You brought me into a cult of death and self-destruction. You took my life and tore it…”

Damijana smacked me hard across the face, “How many chances have you had to walk away Clarence? HOW MANY ?!? Why didn’t you take Lavinia’s offer? She offered to not only free you, but to let you walk away a wealthy man. I’ve never seen you refuse to participate when called upon.”

“Doing what you’re told because there is a gun to your head…that’s not participation. Being manipulated, coerced, constantly tortured and threatened with torture; being forced into the role of accomplice-to-your-crimes…that is not agreement Damijana. I fell in love with you and I followed you.”

“You CHOSE to follow me Clarence.”

“I didn’t choose to fall in love with you. That’s what led me to this.”

“Save the dramatics Clarence. It doesn’t speed or slow my heart a bit.”

“Nothing does anymore, right? You’ve become a living ice-sculpture, calloused to everything. Is that what you wanted me to become?”

“If I loved you, yes, that is exactly what I would want you to become.”

Black Sally stepped into the tunnel and approached, “This isn’t the time for lover’s quarrels. All eyes are on us.”

Damijana turned away from me, toward Sally, “Appearances are meaningless at this point.”

Black Sally replied, “Appearances are NEVER meaningless!”

“Three Matriarch’s are butchering and consuming their sacrifices, but only one Matriarch will emerge from this tunnel.”

Black Sally looked at me and asked, “Are you alright Clarence? You seem a little shook up. You did a good job in there. I’m proud of the man you’ve become.” I was left speechless with a perverse feeling of pride. For the first time in a long time, I felt accepted.

Damijana appeared at my side, she kissed me on the cheek, then she placed something cold and heavy in my hand. I looked down to see myself holding a large nickel-plated revolver, the one that was used in the brutalization and murder of the Jehovah’s Witness. Black Sally whispered in my right ear, “You need to kill The Duchess.” In my left ear Damijana whispered, “We’re right here. You can handle this. Don’t be afraid.”

Black Sally pointed to a door in the middle of the tunnel and commanded, “Lavinia and Medea will come out that door first, followed by The Duchess. When The Duchess comes out, empty your gun into her face.”

Damijana and Sally both turned and went back into the bunker, they slammed the steel door shut behind them. I stood alone, fixed in place, fighting the urge to run, to vomit, to point the gun at my own head and pull the trigger. But there was nowhere to run, nothing in my stomach to heave and Death had never saved me from a Matriarch’s cruel grip before. On more than one occasion, they’d delivered me to Death, only to snatch me right out of Her solemn embrace. To these women, Death was the Matriarch of all Matriarch’s. They studied Her, they worshipped Her, they served Her; striving to emulate their Goddess, expecting to be granted a portion of Her Divinity. Since I served Lavinia, I also served the Goddess. I had become an instrument of Her Divine Will.

The door opened, startling me. I almost dropped the gun. Lavinia emerged from the dungeon. Her black and red wooden mask filled me with a mixture of terror, awe and longing. Medea followed closely behind. The two Matriarch’s passed me without speaking and exited the tunnel. I heard the door shut. I heard the lock slam into place. The Duchess still hadn’t appeared, but I felt her presence. I attempted to approach the entrance to the dungeon, I found I was frozen in fear.

Finally, The Duchess stepped into the tunnel. She was naked; every inch of her body was covered in blood as if she’d bathed in it. She gripped the long, dark hair of a severed head in her right hand. It wasn’t just the fear that paralyzed me then, I was stunned by her beauty, her power; I was enthralled by the terror and hatred she made me feel. I was disgusted with myself for the way I lusted for her. Damijana’s voice entered my mind, “Don’t be afraid of her Clarence. Just raise your hand and pull the trigger. You can do this Clarence. You are a warrior. I wouldn’t give you a task you are not capable of completing. Right now your task is to destroy that demon standing in front of you. Destroy her before she destroys you. Just raise your hand and pull the trigger.”

Inspired by the thoughts Damijana placed in my head, filled with a new resolve and subconsciously determined to make Damijana proud; I pointed the gun at The Duchess and pulled the trigger. The gun went ‘Click’. I pulled the trigger again and again and again. Click. Click. Click. The Duchess stood motionless and silent, her blood-steeped red-hair clung to her body. The whites of her eyes flashed violence and hate. My hand fell to my side, the gun dropped to the ground.

The Duchess’ high-pitched banshee-like shriek filled the tunnel. She closed the distance between us, and swung the head, before I could even think to react to. The human slammed into the side of my face. My head was rocked, my legs gave out. I found myself on the floor, dazed, looking up at the blurred burgundy figure standing over me, beating me with the head of her latest victim.

Knowing I wouldn’t be able to endure the crushing blows of The Duchess’ gruesome bludgeon for long, I quickly rose to my knees and wrapped my arms around The Duchess’ legs, planning to lift her off her feet and throw her to the ground. She slipped from my grasp, kneed me in the face, then brought the head down hard on the back of neck, knocking me unconscious.

I was awoken by a searing, agonizing pain in my rectum. My face was pressed against the cement floor. The Duchess was on my back, one hand held my head to the ground, the other was shoved up my ass. I felt her bloody wet hair on my face, the heat of her breath in my ear. I screamed out in pain as she pulled her hand out, then jammed it back in repeatedly. I heard her voice in my ear, “See what happens when you forget your place bitch!” She sunk her teeth into the back of my neck, then jerked her head from side to side. My teeth scraped against cement, my voice failed me, turning my screams to a raspy, guttural moan. I felt tears fall from my eyes when she tore a chunk of flesh from my neck. She spit it out on the ground next to my face, pulled her hand from my ass, then attempted to shove it in my mouth. She wasn’t satisfied with the damage she’d already done to me, she wanted to make me lick my own feces and blood from her hand.

I saw the revolver on the floor, inches from my face. I heard Lavinia’s stern, compassionless voice in my mind, “You are not defeated unless you choose to be. You can choose life. But you must earn your place at my Table. You have to prove yourself. If you want to live to feel the glory, love and acceptance that you’ve suffered so much to find, you must rise and overtake her.”

I flipped myself over suddenly, and with all the force I could muster, throwing The Duchess off omy back. Then I grabbed the revolver and threw myself on top The Duchess, straddling her. I quickly pinned her arms to ground with my legs and began beating her in the face and head with the revolver. In a panicked frenzy, I bludgeoned her as hard and fast as I could. When I stopped, her head was nothing but a thick repulsive stew, made up of bone, blood, teeth, cartilage, flesh, mucous and brain matter. I roared at the remains of The Duchess in triumph. I parted her legs, slid between her thighs, pushed my pants down to my knees and shoved my cock deep inside her. I lifted her lifeless legs in the air and fucked her hard and furious as I shouted, “NOW WHO’S BOSS YOU FUCKING BITCH! WHO’S ON TOP NOW YOU EVIL FUCKING WHORE!”

When I felt myself about to cum, I pulled out and ejaculated all over her stomach and breasts. Then I sat down beside her, laughing hysterically like a man whose fallen so far into the depths of insanity, he could never hope to return. I don’t know how long I sat there laughing. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. I felt a firm hand on my shoulder. I looked up to see Lavinia standing over me. Her voice declared, “You’ve finally arrived Clarence. Get on your feet.”

I rose to my feet, pulled my pants up and thought, “I was surprised to see you. I didn’t expect to see you walk again.”

“I got prosthetics. I have to many responsibilities to be bound to a chair. I‘ve had to overcome far more obstacles than you. Your suffering pales in comparison to what I‘ve endured. I lost my legs, my beauty and one my breasts. But still, I overcame the dominant force. Despite my handicap, I became the dominant force. The Duchess ruled you, abused you and set out to destroy you. But you overtook her in the end. On Monday the title goes to the most determined, to the most fraudulent and crafty on the next. Wednesday belongs to the strongest and mightiest, followed by ‘the rule of the bookworm’ on Thursday. Friday is dominated by the wealthiest, while Saturday goes to the most insidious. On Sunday, nobody rests, the plotters plot and the spiders weave their webs, Sunday belongs to the strategist. If you wish to hold a position of power at my Table, and rule over others, you must be all of those things and more. You must be able to adapt to the circumstances as needed. Your ability to adapt will be your advantage. I don’t rule on just Sundays and Wednesdays, I rule seven days a week. The Duchess did not. Now you’ve seen the limits of that type of power.”

“What now?” I asked. Lavinia pulled a dagger from her skirt and handed it to me. She said, “Cut her open and take out her liver. We’ll go to dungeon and consume the meat together, alone. I missed you Clarence.”

“Why did you leave me to…”

Lavinia interrupted, gently placing her fingers on my lips, “I need someone who can carry the load. It isn’t profitable for me to attach myself to someone who I have to carry. If I was to continue to allow myself to fall in love with you, I had to help you realize your full potential. I don’t cater to the weak and I certainly don’t allow myself to love them. I want to love you, so I shaped you into what you needed to be. That’s why Clarence.”

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Lioness and the Black Widow 16

Lavinia clutched the handle of the machete with both hands as she raised it above her head. I looked at her standing above me; her mutilated and disfigured face concealed by the black and red mask. She looked like a Goddess of War and in a way, I was content knowing that the sight of her standing again, powerful, violent and glorious; I was content knowing I would leave this earth with that image of her burned into my soul. I would take a part of her with me to eternity.

I watched her bring down the machete, slicing through the neck of the woman who restrained my left ankle. Before I felt her head fall between my thighs, Lavinia had decapitated the woman holding my other ankle. Then my eyes were filled with blood and I couldn’t see anything. I heard the screams. The hands restraining my wrists loosened their grip. I thought I would drown in under the fountain of blood. Two of the headless corpses fell on top of me, pinning me to the ground. Blinded by the women’s blood, deafened by the sounds of the battle taking place around me; I chose to just play dead.

Someone pulled me from the pile of bodies and wiped my eyes. When my vision returned, I saw Damijana kneeling over me. She helped me to my feet. The carnage left me nauseated and astounded. I struggled to stay standing, repeating, “Don’t faint, don’t faint, don’t faint,” to myself in my head. Almost half the crowd was lying on the floor, many of them scattered in pieces. The Duchess, Black Sally, Antigone and Anna were wading through the bodies, hacking away with machetes, butchering anything that moved. I saw, and smelled, the stinking, decayed abominations who Lavinia had raised. They tore away at the flesh of the dead with their teeth. One woman cried out, begging to be killed, as she was eaten alive by the monster.

The remaining Amazons stood watching the slaughter of their sisters in silence. Lavina and Medea had four women kneeling on the floor, their hands bound behind their backs. Medea looked to the remaining Amazons and declared, “This is a new day. The old ways are no more. I am now Matriarch of the Amazons. If any of you wish to refute that, do it now. As you can see, I will be implementing some changes. If you can’t handle these changes, you can go kneel in line with your sisters and be sacrificed to the Goddess.”

A tall, attractive dark-skinned woman stepped forward. She looked like she was from somewhere in Africa or the Caribbean. She spoke like she had lived in America all her life. The woman asked, “Who will sit Second-Chair?”

Medea smiled and replied, “You will Diana. You and Anna will both hold Second-Chair positions.”

One of the bound and kneeling women blurted out, “You’re going to destroy everything Medea! Everything that so many have fought and suffered and died for; you’re going to just burn it all to the ground. You’re not a Matriarch Medea. You’re not an Amazon, you’re not even a woman.”

Diana moved to approach the woman. Medea held her back, glaring at the woman who’d insulted her through narrowed eyes. Medea demanded, “Get her on her feet and bring her here.” Anna grabbed the woman by the arms, jerked her to her feet and shoved her toward Medea. The woman fell flat her on face at Medea’s feet. Medea grabbed her by the hair, lifting her head; she looked the woman in the eyes, drew her dagger and declared, “This is what’s wrong with the world. The majority of the violence, conflict and bloodshed could be avoided if people like this knew when to keep their mouths shut. What? Will she be a martyr for defying me? Simply because she threw out some words? No! I will not allow anyone in this house to win with words, what can only be won by action, suffering and struggle.

“When I was Second-Chair, I sat by and watched her cowardice at work, her and her faction. They assault and assassinate with their tongues, because they lack the courage and skill to do it with their hands.” Medea tilted her head to the side and smiled at the woman, “Your words are empty because you are unable to stand behind them. I can make you take those back, exposing your sentiment, your existence and your words for what they really are…meaningless. Now take back what you said and apologize to me for your stupidity. Then, I will allow you to return to your place in line.”

The woman yelled, “FUCK YOU! I wish I could be there on the day you die.”

“Well, unless you’ve got a magic lantern stashed in your skirt, your wish doesn’t amount to much. Does it?” Medea pulled the woman to her feet by the hair. Anna stood behind the woman and held her arms. Medea sliced open the woman’s blouse, then she sliced through the strap between the cups on the woman’s bra. Her little pink nipples stood hard and erect on her medium-breasts. My cock hardened when I saw the woman’s thick, creamy thighs, after Medea cut her skirt off. She sliced off the woman’s panties. Then she stood back, her eye’s ran over the woman’s naked body. Medea licked her lips.

Diana and a woman from crowd each grabbed one of the victim’s legs. They pulled them apart, lifting the woman off her feet. Medea stood between her thighs. The woman jerked around screaming. Her face turned a deep shade of red, then tightened and contorted itself into an agonized mask that not only expressed the pain its owner was experiencing; it made one agonize over the immense amount pain and suffering inherent in the human condition.

Medea tossed a piece flesh on the floor. I saw the hairs, the blood, the pink meat. I vomited. The woman’s screams filled the bunker, creating a nerve-jarring cacophony of tortured echoes rebounding off the concrete walls. Medea shouted, “TAKE IT BACK! You will give in eventually anyway. You know it. I’m gonna take this blade and shove it in your pussy. Then I’m gonna tunnel my up into your stomach. Your uterus, bladder, intestines; all that shit is gonna be right there on the floor. Now apologize for your stupidity and acknowledge the meaninglessness of your words.”

The woman spit at Medea, hitting her on the cheek and shoulder. Medea let out a ferocious roar and shoved the dagger into the woman’s vagina. The victim’s screams were even louder, combined with heart-wrenching sobs. Medea slid the dagger in and out of the woman’s vagina while yelling, “TAKE IT BACK! BITCH TAKE IT BACK!” A stream of blood flowed from the victim’s genitals, mixing with the blood of her fallen sisters.

The woman screamed out, “I TAKE IT BACK! I TAKE IT BACK!” Tears poured from her eyes, “Please Medea, please kill me now. I TAKE IT BACK!” She sobbed hysterically. Medea pulled the dagger out, grabbed the woman’s right breast with her free hand and sliced it off with the dagger. The woman convulsed violently. She no longer screamed. She just gasped and seemed to struggle for breath, her saucer-sized eyes fixed on the ceiling. Medea sliced off the woman’s breast, tossed it on the pile of bodies and severed parts, then she proceeded to slice off the other one. The woman lost consciousness. Medea sliced off the victim's face, then they tossed her on the pile still breathing.

One of the kneeling women cried. Medea looked at her and said, “You should be happy. She isn’t worthy to be consumed, so we just tossed her on the trash heap. Her meat is only fit for the dogs.” I looked over in disgust at the abominations feeding on the bodies. Medea continued, “You're fortunate in that you will not share the same fate as your sister. I've always had respect for you, even though we often disagreed. It will be an honor to consume your meat and strengthen myself on your suffering.” The crying woman shook her head and clenched her eyes shut tight. Her two sisters, bound and kneeling beside her, remained stoic, staring straight ahead.

The Duchess looked to Medea and asked, “Do you have somewhere else we can take these three? I want to enjoy this. The smell in here is distracting me and I’m tired of standing on limbs.”

Medea smiled, “Does The Duchess have delicate sensibilities?”

“Fuck you Medea! And I’m confident that I can’t be compelled to take that back.”

“We have a smaller bunker down here, some of the girls use it as a dungeon from time to time. Would that setting be more conducive to your enjoyment?”

“Sure, whatever the fuck that means. Let’s just go to the dungeon.”

Monday, November 21, 2011

The Lioness and the Black Widow 15

Medea allowed me two full days to rest. At the end of that time, I didn’t feel anything near “recovered”, but I felt better. The swelling in my mouth had gone down enough for me to speak. Once I could I walk on my own again, I took to pacing the empty room in anxious anticipation of Medea’s return. She had acted as a caregiver during one of my darkest hours. Her kindness was a boost to my morale. However, I knew that I was only seeing a part of her. She didn’t attain the position of Second Chair in her house because of her kindness. I had yet to see how she handled herself in that position. But I did see how she handled herself in the presence of Lavinia and The Duchess and their reaction to her. While Medea gave me the impression that she was more rational than Lavinia, Damijana, Black Sally and The Duchess, I knew that her position demanded that she be equally as ruthless.

On the third day I showered and put on the fresh clothes given to me by Medea. She led me downstairs and through a door that led to a spacious 2-car garage. Anna and Suzanne stood silently in a dark corner of the empty garage. I could feel their predatory eyes on me, analyzing my every movement; their owners lying in wait. All three women were dressed in a similar fashion; dark colors, ankle length skirts, sweaters and pea coats. Medea spoke out loud, “Clarence, there is a meeting you will be attending with us this afternoon. The Matriarch will be there along with some of my rivals. You can expect to feel very uncomfortable at this meeting. Just keep quiet, don’t assume anything and do what I tell you to do.”

The room seemed to darken, though the lighting didn’t change. It was a dark cloud of dread settling over me. Just as I was starting to feel alive again, just as I was starting to hope again, I was on my way back into another lion’s den. I said, “I’m not ready to get involved in your house’s factional disputes.”

“Call it what is Clarence. We are a criminal organization. I am bringing you to this meeting for a reason, a reason which I do not feel compelled to reveal to you. ‘No’ is not an option here Clarence. You will do what I tell you to do, how I tell you to do it, or you will be killed. That is a certainty. So, never mind your fear and misgivings. You owe me for taking you back to Lavinia, you owe me for saving you from The Duchess and for taking care of you when you were like a baby, unable to walk or even feed yourself. I dumped out your filthy bed-pans. The way I see it, you owe me big, you owe me your life, and I happen to be a woman who collects what she’s owed.

“Don’t fuck up and let your mouth get you into trouble over there, I won’t be able to do anything to help you. Don’t ask questions, don’t offer your opinion, don’t get cute. The women you will meet today don’t get warm fuzzy feelings and ’cute’ things tend to arouse their urge to destroy. Try not to make too much eye-contact, they’ll slice your face open for it. I’m sure you can imagine what gets sliced off for staring too long at someone’s ass.”

The garage door opened and a black Chevy Blazer pulled into the garage. I recognized the face of Evangeline behind the wheel. Medea climbed into the passenger seat. I sat in the back between Anna and Suzanne. The drive was long, wrestling with my anxiety, obsessively wiping my sweaty palms on my pant legs. Anna and Suzanne sat rigid, silent and still. Medea turned the radio to a jazz station, sat back in her seat and quietly gazed out the window. The full gravity of my predicament hit me all at once. I had to fight the urge to vomit, acidic bile burning the back of my throat. It hit me as I sat admiring Medea, mesmerized by her beauty and the aura of peace that seemed to surround her. I suddenly realized that I didn’t really know her and my life was in her hands. I imagined a scene set perfect for a human sacrifice. I agonized over the futile notion of climbing over Anna or Suzanne, opening the door and throwing myself headfirst from the vehicle. All I could do was sit dumbfounded, like a cow on its way to the slaughterhouse.

We drove for at least two hours, after several turns from one unpaved country road to another, we pulled up a long driveway. There was a house on the property that appeared as if it hadn’t been occupied in years. Next the house stood an old rusty windmill. At least 30 cars were parked on the property; luxury sedans, sports cars, SUVs. The only people I saw were nine veiled figures huddled around the enormous Ms. Yung. As the Blazer slowed to a next to the group, I wondered where all the occupants of the parked vehicles went.

Anna pulled me from the vehicle by my shirt and threw me to the ground. The veiled women picked me up and carried me into the house. I only saw the ceiling as I was rushed through the neglected dwelling. It was cracked, peeling and moldy, large sections had fallen in. They set me down if front of an open door, beyond which a staircase led to the cellar. I felt the barrel of a gun pressed against my back. I descended the stairs.

The cellar was small and cluttered with old yellowed newspapers, odds, ends and all manner of unwanted items. A tall, thin dark-skinned woman stood in front of a large steel door. She wore long braids and green combat fatigues. The woman opened the door with a loud, “CLANK!” A long, cement tunnel stretched out in front of me, illuminated by red ceiling lamps placed at regular intervals down the length of the tunnel.

Medea and Anna came down the stairs. Medea instructed me to wait until everyone else had entered the tunnel and follow in the rear. The heavy steel door slammed shut behind me. I couldn’t help feeling that I was trapped in the belly of some cruel and hideous beast. After we’d walked about 30 feet, another door opened just as Medea approached. Suddenly the tunnel was filled with the deafening roar of several dozen voices echoing off the walls. I smelled marijuana smoke, strong coffee, incense and perfumes.

I followed Medea’s entourage into an underground bunker the size of a large banquet room. The bunker was bare. It was like a concrete box with 50-60 women standing tightly huddled in several small groups. A short dark-skinned woman in combat fatigues slammed the door behind me. Everyone went silent upon Medea’s arrival. The crowd parted, creating a clear line between Medea and a short, wrinkled elderly African woman. The old woman pointed at me and spoke in a tongue I had never heard before that day. Medea responded to the woman in the same strange language, then the two women appeared to get into a heated debate. A ghostly pale blonde girl in a long black monk’s robe appeared at the old woman’s side. The blonde stepped forward and addressed Medea, “You’ve disrespected the Matriarch by bringing this filth into our sanctuary.”

Medea replied, “Sylvia, you are a fanatic. That’s why never go anywhere in life. And you’ll spend every minute of your life bitter and resentful over that fact.”

Sylvia’s face reddened, “Maybe I am a fanatic. Or maybe you just went soft.” Gasps rippled through the otherwise silent crowd. Medea walked up to Sylvia and threw a handful of white powder in her face. Medea stepped back watching the woman who stood stunned for only a brief moment, before she fell to her knees screaming in agony. Her face began smoking, steaming and blistering; she covered her face with both hands, fell to her side and kicked her legs around. Medea snatched a heavy-set woman from the crowd. She grabbed two handfuls of the woman’s hair; pulled her face toward her own, as if she was going to give the woman a kiss, and bit her nose off. Then she pulled a dagger from under her pea coat and disembowled the woman. She fell to the floor cradling her intestines. Medea spit out the nose in disgust and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. The crowd backed away from her. Sylvia and the heavy set woman shrieked, sobbed and moaned.

The Matriarch appeared to be chastising Medea. Medea wiped her dagger off on her skirt and addressed the crowd, “I don’t know about you. But I’m not a slave to anyone, or anything; not to her,” she pointed her dagger at the Matriarch, “not to you and I’m definitely not a slave to a bunch of outdated traditions that aren’t even relevant in today’s world.”

A short, skinny middle-aged brunette with glasses stepped forward, “Our traditions have protected us. They are our heritage and ensure our legacy…”

“Is this what you want?” Medea interrupted as she looked at the faces in the crowd. “Conservatism? Complacency? You’re supposed to be a bunch of mean, militant bitches. But nobody wants to think outside the box. Nobody wants to take a chance anymore. Those dead old ladies you all admire, how do you think they managed to not just survive, but thrive? I can tell you that it wasn’t by not taking chances. Our legacy is the result of adaptability and innovation. Now you want to go along with this old woman’s philosophy that resists innovation and adaptation? We do ourselves a disservice by bowing to a Matriarch who bows to a council who we could overtake. All should bow to us and we should bow to no one.”

The Matriarch began shouting and motioning toward Medea. She grimaced and snarled at Medea, baring her yellow teeth. The crowd began to stir, arguments broke out followed by fights. A young Asian woman emerged from the crowd, raised a pistol at Medea and began screaming at her. Suddenly, my head was filled with a high-pitched siren sound. I felt my teeth vibrating together as I brought my hands to my ears, shut my eyes tight and fell to my knees.

The siren stopped and I heard Medea’s voice in my head, “Clarence, take this and kill the Matriarch.” I heard metal sliding across cement. I opened my eyes and saw the dagger. “Do it. DO IT NOW!” I looked around the bunker and saw that everyone had been brought to their knees by the sound. As the Amazons began to rise to their feet, the siren sounded again, louder. My head felt like it was being bashed repeatedly with a hammer. I saw drops of blood fall from nose to the grey concrete inches from my face. The siren stopped. Medea’s voice said, “Go Clarence! DO IT NOW!” I got up and ran to the Matriach who laid vulnerable on the concrete. I knelt down beside her and stabbed the old woman in the throat over and over, until dozens of angry hands tore me away from her. I saw the blood flow from the Matriarch’s neck like a fountain. Then I saw nothing but fists and boot heels as I was beaten to the ground by the crowd.

They tore my clothes from my body, four of them held me down in the spread-eagle position. For every previous wound that had been reopened, two fresh ones were made. A veiled figure stood over me with a machete. The figure lifted its veil and all time seemed to stop. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t hear. I could no longer feel my heart pounding in my chest. I struggled to comprehend what I was seeing. When the veil was lifted, I saw the familiar black mask with red stripe. It was Lavinia standing over me with the machete. I heard her voice in my head, “I told you Clarence. You can’t keep a good woman down.”