The Lioness and the Black Widow 5

Before we left the house, The Duchess led me to a room full of men’s clothes and urged me to pick out whatever I wanted. As I went the through clothes that once belonged to victim‘s of The Duchess and her crew, I fought the urge to vomit. I came out of the room full of dead men’s clothes dressed like I was going to a funeral; a black two-piece suit, a white-collared shirt and black dress shoes.

The Duchess stood outside the room waiting for me. She wore a full length Chinchilla with a black silk blouse, a long black skirt and black boots. She wore a thick platinum chain around her neck with a large skull pendent, ridiculous diamond earrings and dark sunglasses.

The Duchess took me to a large red-brick building in the city. The afternoon was grey with a constant drizzle. I asked “What’s this place?” The Duchess replied, “This is where we can find the woman who calls herself The Fallen Angel.” Antigone and twins parked in the space behind us with Roger still laid quietly in the trunk.

When we got out the car, The Duchess said, “Clarence, all you’re going to do is let The Fallen Angel approach you, react how your instincts tell you to react; I’ll take over from there.” She turned toward Antigone, “If these bitches give us any shit, we’re shutting this place down.” Antigone nodded her head.

We entered the building and took the stairs down to the basement. I followed The Duchess and Antigone to a large green steel door. The twins walked closely behind me. Antigone pounded on the door with her fist. The door slid open, slamming into the stopper with a loud metallic thud. A huge man stood in the doorway, dressed in a black t-shirt and black jeans. He had long greasy black hair and wore dark, heavy eye-make-up. The Duchess looked the man up and down, then she laughed and proclaimed, “Now that’s a fucking face I’d want to wake up to in the morning. I’m here to see The Fallen Angel.”

The man snarled, “Yeah? And who the fuck are you?”

“I’m The Duchess.”

The man’s face and body language instantly went from aggressive to appeasing. He bowed his head and said, “My humblest apologies, right this way.” We followed the man down a long concrete corridor lit with red lights and through another green steel door. When we entered the room, we were met by loud music, smoke and the smell of alcohol. The room was large and dimly lit, there was a bar on the opposite side of the room and several unoccupied tables in between. The Duchess told me to go sit at the bar, then she went with Antigone and the man to small room set off to the side.

I took a seat at the bar, the twins sat at a table right behind me. The bartender stood at the end of the bar chatting with the only patron I could see. She was a skinny blonde-haired woman dressed in a black t-shirt and black skirt. The bartender, an older man with beady eyes and a receding hairline, paid be no attention. The Duchess came out of the room followed by a young woman with long curly black hair. She wore all black, but her style was much different from The Gothic Girl and Black Sally’s. The Fallen Angel looked like a cheap fortune teller, or a woman expecting trick-or-treaters. Antigone and the doorman remained in the room.

The Fallen Angel sat down on my right and gave me a sly, menacing smirk. The Duchess sat down on my left. She said, “Fallen Angel, this is Clarence. Clarence, meet The Fallen Angel.” I reached out my hand and looked her in the eyes. A look of anger and confusion came over her face. She yelled at me, “YOU ARE TO LOWER YOUR EYES WHEN ADDRESSING ME!”

I couldn’t do it. My eyes remained locked on hers. She stood up, enraged and asked The Duchess, “What’s this? I thought you said he was submissive to all Keepers of the Altar.”

The Duchess nodded her head, “That is exactly what I said. Do you not find him submissive?”

“He just looks like another angry black guy to me. I don’t like him. He gives me a funny feeling. Get him out of here.”

The Duchess replied, “He’s not the problem. The problem is that there are fake Matriarch’s, such as yourself, who are trying to profit off the deeds of the women who are really doing this shit.”

The Fallen Angel motioned to the bartender, then stared at The Duchess defiantly, “Fake Matriarchs huh? What exactly are you trying to say?”

“I’m telling you that it’s time to ‘pay the piper‘.”

The bartender approached, the blonde-haired girl rose from her seat. The bartender asked, “Mistress, is there a prob---.” BOOM! The gun went off by my left ear. I fell off my stool. I looked up and saw The Duchess standing above, the smoking pistol still in her hand.

I saw the blond-haired girl run to protect The Fallen Angel. I watched her fall as the bullets from The Duchess‘ gun penetrated her body. The Duchess slammed the pistol down on the bar and ordered The Fallen Angel to sit down. Antigone came out of the room, her face speckled with blood. She held the head of the doorman by his long black hair. She placed the severed head on the bar and took a seat next to The Fallen Angel.

The Fallen Angel trembled on her stool, “Duchess, let’s be rational, okay? I don’t know what your problem with me is, but we can work this out without anymore violence.”

The Duchess replied, “Your rationality is cowardice and impotence in the face of my violence.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Have you ever seen those signs that say something like, ‘Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt’. Well, you’re the bitch who just bought the t-shirt without the ‘being’ and ‘doing’ anything.”

“I don’t understand. I…”

“Of course you don’t understand. I’ll help you. You are NOT a Matriarch. Now, it’s not enough for me to just come down here and tell you that to your face. I’m gonna have to prove it to you, and make an example out of you.” Antigone pulled the piece of pipe from her boot and smashed it into the side of The Fallen Angel’s head. The twins pulled her from her stool, threw her to the floor, then all four of the women kicked her, stomped her and tore off her clothes as she shrieked and sobbed helplessly on the floor.

The Duchess grabbed two handfuls of The Fallen Angel’s hair and drug her naked and screaming to a door marked ‘Men’s’. The Duchess kicked open the door and pulled The Fallen Angel into the bathroom. The door slammed shut behind them. Antigone grabbed a stool and slammed it against the edge of the bar until the legs broke off. Her and the twins each grabbed a jagged leg and headed toward the bathroom. I followed behind empty handed.

When I got the bathroom The Duchess had The Fallen Angel in one of the stalls, on her knees bent over the toilet. The Fallen Angel’s wrists were tied to the pipes behind the seat. My cock stiffened as I gazed at The Fallen Angel’s pale and vulnerable round ass. The Duchess stood on the back of the toilet, she looked at me, “Well, go ahead Clarence. Don’t say that I never gave you any ass.” The twins snickered. Antigone walked up and slapped The Fallen Angel hard on the ass. Then she stepped out the way and motioned toward The Fallen Angel, like a game show girl presenting a new car to a contestant.

I undid my pants, let them fall around my ankles, then I dropped to my knees behind The Fallen Angel. The Duchess ordered, “Don’t even spit on it. Just shove it in dry!” The Fallen Angel let out a long, tortured guttural shout as I forced my long, thick cock up her ass. I had so much built up pressure, I almost exploded as soon as I was inside her. I paused, took a breath and started fucking her ass deep, hard and dry. Her blood began to lubricate the orifice, I fucked her deeper and harder. Her hip bones slammed into the porcelain toilet bowl. Her shouts, cries and pleading echoed off the walls of the Men’s room.

The Duchess placed one of her boots on the back of The Fallen Angel’s head and shoved it down into the toilet bowl. The Duchess smiled at me, pulled her skirt up to reveal her thigh, then with a soft and seductive voice she asked, “Aren’t you gonna cum?” An intense wave of pleasure and euphoria swept over me. I roared at the top of my lungs as I came deep in The Fallen Angel’s tight, bleeding ass.

The Duchess ordered one of the twins to get a bottle of 151 from the bar. When the twin returned with the bottle. The Duchess stepped off the back of the toilet, took the bottle from the twin and poured the rum over The Fallen Angel’s head. She pulled a cigarette from the pocket of her Chinchilla, lit it with a match, then she dropped the lit match on the back of The Fallen Angel’s head, igniting her hair. I was still inside her, as she jerked her body back and forth while letting out a long blood-curdling scream. When I pulled out, a glob of semen, blood and filth plopped on the floor. I stood up, pulled my pants up and backed away. The smell of burnt air and flesh filled the air. Antigone and the twins took turns beating The Fallen Angel with the legs Antigone broke of the barstool. The sound of The Fallen Angel’s bones breaking under the blows was like the sound of think branches snapping off in a wind storm. Finally, The Duchess yelled, “ENOUGH!”

The twins stood staring wide-eyed at the battered, burnt and debased Fallen Angel. Antigone asked, “We killin’ her?” The Duchess shook her head, “No. She’ll be a living reminder of what we do to fake Matriarchs.”