The Lioness and the Black Widow 9

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The Lioness and the Black Widow 8

We all waited in the living-room while Lavinia worked her magic upstairs. Antigone and the twins stood with their backs to wall on one side of the room. Damijana, Black Sally and I did the same on the opposite side. The Duchess removed her Chinchilla and tossed it on the couch. The German Shepherd on Sally’s leash growled and bared his teeth at The Duchess. Damijana gripped her machete, gently tapping the tip of the blade against the wall behind her. The Duchess sat down and said, “You know, even barbarians believe in hospitality.”

Sally replied, “If the savages and barbarians hadn’t believed in hospitality, the world would still belong to the savages and barbarians.”

The Duchess tilted her head to the side and smiled, “I’m glad that’s not the case. I wouldn’t want to live this way if everyone else was doing it. I’ll remember to pack my own refreshments next time because the Kastelics are too hardcore to offer their guests a cup of coffee and something sweet.”

Ira entered without being noticeably summoned. Damijana said, “Bring us some coffee and cake.” Ira nodded her head and returned to the kitchen. The Duchess rubbed her hands together excitedly and said, “I’ll be surprised if we get to Sathanas before one of his associates kills him. We haven’t even got started yet and he’s already willing to pay us to leave him alone. After tonight, he’ll be isolated.”

Damijana asked, “Why did you go after The Fallen Angel? You know that we‘re not supposed to attack other Matriarchs without a very good reason.”

The Duchess said, “Why? Is it so we can create a community of telepathics and protect each other? Since I’ve been in this, it’s never been about creating and protecting communities. When I came in, the older women in the house taught me to realize my power through my own suffering and to strengthen myself through the suffering of others. They sent me out to hunt, torture and kill. In my house, if you haven’t done those things, then you’re not a member of ANY house. The Fallen Angel tried to call herself a Matriarch without having any blood on her hands, without bringing any sacrifices to the altar, without consuming the meat.”

Damijana stepped away from the wall, took a seat across from The Duchess and asked, “How did your house find you?” Ira returned with a silver tray loaded with coffee and cake. She set it on the coffee table between Damijana and The Duchess.

The Duchess poured herself a cup coffee and said, “I was a runaway. They found me on the street. An old lady came along offering me food and a safe place. She looked wealthy. I figured that I’d eat her food, warm-up and rob her later that night. When I got the house, the women beat me to the floor as soon I walked in the door. They tore my clothes off and tied me to a pole. Then they brought in a girl I knew from the street. She was about my age. They tortured her right in front of me. I remember the hot piss running down my thigh, when I saw them cut her open and remove her liver. They passed it around, eating it raw. Then the Matriarch shoved a handful of the meat into my mouth, held it shut and forced me to swallow. I don’t know how long I was tied to the pole. It could have been a day. It could have been a month. I was too busy screaming to worry about the time. They stuck needles in me, they burned me, they whipped me, they pulled out four of my teeth. They tore off my fingernails and toenails. They cut off my hair. They untied my ankles and held my legs spread apart, then they fucked me with baseball-bats until they had to pull me down and sew me up to stop the bleeding. Then they put me in a coffin and buried me alive behind the house. I had the opportunity to do a lot of soul-searching while I was in that coffin, staring into a darkness that a person who hasn’t experienced it could never comprehend. I thought I was suffering through my last hours of existence. I prayed for it to end, for death to just come quickly. Death didn’t come. The members of the house dug me up and healed me. Here I am resurrected.”

Damijana said, “You got your revenge though, didn’t you?”

“That’s not revenge, just like Lavinia killing Antonija was not revenge. That’s just the way this game is played.”

“So you expect to be murdered by your predecessor?”

The Duchess looked over at Antigone, “You don’t become a Matriarch by getting elected. The title doesn’t go to the prettiest, smartest or most graceful. This isn’t a fucking beauty pageant. There is only one road leading to the crown, murder. When that changes, all of these houses will fall.”

Heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. We all went out into the hallway. The three zombies stood motionless at the bottom of the stairs. All three stared at the ground. Chris foamed at the mouth. We placed Chris and the young woman in the trunk of the Cutlass. We put the man who had been tied to the cross in the trunk of The Duchess’ car. I looked at the house before getting in the passenger seat of the Lincoln. I focused on Lavinia and thought, “I love you.”

Lavinia’s voice came into my mind like a cool, refreshing breeze on a stifling summer day, “Clarence, your love is of tremendous value to me. I love you as much as you love me, if not more. I didn’t have to force, or manipulate, you into loving me or giving me your loyalty and obedience. You have given all of this to me out of your own free will. I’m not used to that. When I was crippled and disfigured, your loyalty increased rather than decreasing. That is devotion. I do not take your devotion for granted. Now go, you have work to do.” I felt a pair of soft, full lips kiss my cheek, but there was nobody at my side. Anguish filled my heart as I wondered what it must be like to exist behind that mask, without the ability to press your lips against the flesh of the one you love; without the ability to receive a kiss on the lips in return.

The Duchess yelled, “LET’S GO!” I hopped in the car. We drove into the city, followed by Antigone and the twins in the Cutlass. The streetlights had just come on as the last remaining light in the sky faded away. We pulled into the parking lot of a large apartment complex. As we slowed down to go over the speed-bumps, I looked out the window at the groups of young men hanging out in front of the buildings. Some were drinking, some were smoking; some laughed, while others fought. A heavy-set man with coal black skin and dreadlocks threw a gang sign at us. The Duchess stopped several feet away from the man. A group of young men came to his side and began yelling at our car. One of the young men lifted his shirt to show us the pistol he had tucked in pants. Antigone’s Cutlass came to a stop behind us. The Duchess said, “These guys right here, these are the guys The Great Sathanas uses as muscle. They’re getting ready to come looking for us. I figured we’d save them the drive.”

The heavy-set man approached the car. He raised his arms and yelled at me, “Wassup punk? You lookin’ for something?” The Duchess popped the trunk. When the heavy-set man saw the zombie climb out of the trunk, I saw him mouth the words, “WHAT THE FUCK” but no sound came out of his mouth. The man reached under his shirt. Before he could pull his weapon, the zombie was on top of him, tearing away the flesh of the man’s face with his teeth. Antigone let the other two zombies out. Gunfire erupted.

The Duchess ducked, opened her car door, grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the car with her, as she threw herself to the ground. She fell in a puddle of oil and water, soiling her Chinchilla. She sat up and looked at the stained arms and front of her coat. Bullets ricocheted off a dumpster behind her. She screamed, “LOOK AT THIS SHIT!” She stared at me wide-eyed while pointing at her soiled coat. I laid on the ground, curled up in the fetal position, my arms covering my head. Gunshots and screams filled the night air.

Antigone rushed to The Duchess side and asked, “What happened? Are you okay?” The Duchess replied, “Am I okay?” She pointed at her coat, “Do I look okay to you?” She stood up, pulled off her coat and threw it on the ground in front of the dumpster. Antigone yelled, “GET DOWN!” The Duchess continued her tirade as she walked to the trunk of her car, bullets whizzing past her head, “PUNK-MOTHER-FUCKERS!” She pulled an assault rifle from the trunk and opened fire. I couldn’t see what she was shooting at, or if she was hitting it. All I saw was the empty shells bouncing off the asphalt.

Antigone shouted, “DUCHESS! WE HAVE TO GO!” Then she scrambled back to the bullet-riddled Cutlass and climbed in the driver’s seat. The Duchess slammed another clip into her rifle and yelled at me, “CLARENCE! GET BACK IN THE CAR!” Then she opened fire again. When her second clip was empty, all the gunfire had stopped. I jumped to my feet and climbed over the driver’s seat into the passenger side. When I looked out the window, I saw all the fallen young men, their white shirts soaked in blood, the zombies tearing away and consuming their flesh. The night had gone silent except for the sounds of screams and distant sirens.

The Duchess threw her rifle in the trunk, slammed it shut and she hopped in the car. Antigone turned her car around in the parking lot and pulled out. We followed right behind. I looked at The Duchess and asked, “What about the zombies? What will the police do when they find them?”

The Duchess answered, “The zombies will be laid out like the dead when the police get there. They’ll take them to the morgue with the other dead people.”

“Did we get all of Sathanas’ guys?”

The Duchess laughed, “What do you mean ‘we’? You were on the ground curled up in a ball. But to answer question, we got enough of them. Those gangsters weren’t loyal to Sathanas, they were loyal to the money he paid them. After this…after the survivors go tell their friends about seeing people being eaten by fucking zombies…there is no gang on the face of this earth that is going to connect themselves to Sathanas. He’s done. What you need to be worried about is your meeting with Medea. You’re not out of danger yet Clarence. The night is still young.”

I asked, “How come I’m meeting with the Second-Chair of this house and not the Matriarch.”

“You should know by now that the Second-Chair has four functions; they enforce discipline in the house, they see that the Matriarch’s orders are carried out by the members of the house, they deal with minor problems so the Matriarch doesn’t have to worry about them and most importantly, they plot to murder the Matriarch and take her crown. That’s what Second-Chair does. So when you’re meeting with a Second-Chair, you’re usually meeting the next Matriarch of that house. Medea comes from one of the largest and most bellicose houses in existence. When they’re not at war with outsiders, they’re warring with another house. When they’re not warring with another house, they go to war with each other. Usually, they’re doing a combination of those things all at once. Their roots go back to the kingdom of Dahomey. They used women as warriors. An exceptionally vicious and brutal cult grew out of that practice. That cult still lives on in the shadows today. That’s who we’re on our way to see.”

“Is there anything I need to know before I meet her?”

“What’s there for you to know? They say Medea can tear man’s heart with her bare hands. If I was you, I wouldn’t assume they mean that figuratively. She places no value on human life, none whatsoever. Rumor has it that she murdered her own parents and siblings. I suggest that you maintain a degree of distance from her, don’t be ashamed to hide behind your Matriarch. You DO NOT want to be present at one Medea’s rituals and whatever you do, whatever she does, DON’T FUCK HER! If she fucks a man, she kills him. And from I understand, she likes to fuck a lot.”

“Wait a minute…you said that I will naturally serve the Keepers of the Altar. If she tells me to do something…”

The Duchess interrupted, “You belong to Lavinia. While that may not be generally approved of, it’s known. Even Medea doesn’t want problems with Lavinia, not if she can avoid it. She won’t force you to fuck her. But if you if spend too much time with her, she will be tempted. She’ll seek to seduce rather than force. That way she can lay the blame on you; when she fucks you, tears your heart out and eats it.”

I turned my head and stared out the window. Lavinia’s voice entered my mind, “Don’t be afraid of Medea. She is a woman who believes in honor. She has heard of your loyalty and respects it. She will tempt you and she will test you. If you fall to temptation or fail her tests, she will kill you. It‘s your responsibility not to fall or fail.”

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The Lioness and the Black Widow 3

When I placed the tip of the knife to the man’s stomach, Lavinia’s voice said, “No, do not take part in their ritual. You can’t consummate the ritual with The Duchess.” I set the knife down, stood up and backed toward the door. The Duchess sat up smiling, “Your Matriarch won’t allow you to consume the meat with us?” I shook my head. Antigone rose to her feet and said, “If he doesn’t take part in the ritual, he’s not walking out of here.” The Duchess intervened, “No, let him go.”

I exited the room leaving the screams and brutality behind me. As I descended the stairs, the image of Lavinia filled my mind. She sat behind her desk wearing a raven black Victorian-style gown; her disfigured face concealed by the black wooden mask with a red stripe down the middle. Her black hair was twisted up in a bun with a long, shiny steel hairpin protruding from either side. Black Sally stood to the right of Lavinia’s desk. She wore a black turtleneck sweater under a black leather jacket; she wore a long, black skirt and black leather boots. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes, a German Shepherd sat panting at her side. To Lavinia’s left stood Damijana, The Gothic Girl was dressed identical to Sally. She clenched the handle of her bloodstained machete in her right hand.

Lavinia’s voice said, “The Duchess considers manipulation to be a sacred art. You must learn to deal with people like her. She doesn’t just tell outright lies. She makes a person question their own ability to distinguish between truth and fallacy. Her strategy is to confuse, not to convince. You cannot assume that everything she says is a lie. In fact, most of what she tells you will be the truth. As you get to know her, she will seem to be full of contradictions. She’s not. People who appear to be full of contradictions either don’t know themselves, or they are concealing themselves. The Duchess, of course, falls in the latter category. There is nothing complex or contradictory about her. She is solely motivated by her own self-interest and she is ruled by her ego. Appear to become an advocate of her ego, and she’ll consider you an indispensable ally. That’s what I want.

“I want her to put you on a collar and leash. Then you will be collar and leash which I place on her. She will then become another instrument for me to use to carry out my will. Allow yourself to fall under her spell. Become an advocate of her ego. I want you in her heart.

“Keep this in mind, Lilith is locked in the box; Octavia is still taped up in the fetal position. That’s what your peers are doing while you’re out honeymooning with The Duchess. There are many Matriarch’s whose houses I intend to infiltrate, manipulate and takeover. Would you like to continue to assist me in that endeavor? Or would you rather return to the box?”

I thought, “I don’t want the box.”

“Of course you don’t. You’d much rather spend your time playing with the other Matriarchs. Since that’s the case, I strongly suggest that you impress me with your performance. Remember, you exist for one reason and one reason alone, to carry out my will. I acknowledge your love for me Clarence. I am returning your love and rewarding your loyalty by presenting you with this opportunity. Alfred’s position is still vacant, and nothing goes on in your mind without my knowledge. Consider that when you’re tempted to betray me. And you WILL be tempted to betray me.”

I stood at the bottom of the stairs contemplating the thoughts Lavinia had just placed in my mind. I heard a man’s voice shout, “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY HOUSE? WHERE’S THERESA?” The door to the attic swung open. The red-headed Duchess stood at the top of the stairs, naked and covered in blood. The man froze, his eyes widened, terror could be seen on his face, it could be smelled in the air.

Theresa barged into the kitchen. “Chris, I told to wait for me at…OH FUCK!!!” Theresa yelled as she gazed up at The Duchess. Chris stuttered, “Th-th-th-is i-is a s-s-scene right?” Theresa solemnly replied, “Yes Chris, it’s just a scene. We need to go.”

The Duchess descended the stairs, “Ah, you’re Chris, Theresa’s fiance and slave. I’ve been dying to meet you.” When The Duchess got to the bottom of the stairs, Theresa protectively stepped in front of Chris, “This isn’t necessary. Please! We’re leaving.”

Lavinia’s voice came into my mind, “What are you doing? Do you think that I want their house weak, or strong, prior to my takeover? Exploit the situation.”

I looked at The Duchess and asked, “Did you bring me to your house in order to expose me? This man is not a member of any house and he has just seen my face. My Matriarch finds this situation unacceptable and demands an immediate resolution.”

Theresa yelled, “You shut your fucking mouth! It isn’t your place to make decisions here.”

The Duchess interrupted, “Theresa, the decision has already been made. Do you want to be the one to do it?”

Theresa pleaded, “No! No! Please Duchess! I love this man! Okay? I can’t let you do this. I won’t!” Chris cried out, “Theresa! What’s happening here? Who are these people? I don’t like this Theresa! I don’t feel safe!”

I proclaimed, “Duchess, my Matriarch wants to know if this is how you normally handle your affairs in this house. She is concerned that you have a member of your house who is marrying an outsider, and who is allowing her romantic interests to take priority over proper procedure. Duchess, with all due respect, I would remind you that this is a time of war. All the other houses are watching us, analyzing how we handle this situation. My Matriarch’s position is that this is not a time that we can afford to show weakness.”

Antigone descended the stairs followed by the twins. Lavinia’s voice said, “Theresa is the only voice of wisdom and reason that they have in that house. She brings balance to their table. I want them off-balance. Eliminate her.”

I leaned toward The Duchess and whispered, “You’re on the path to becoming one of the most feared and respected Matriarch’s. That is within your reach. Something like this could ruin your reputation forever.”

In one quick and fluid motion, The Duchess turned, reached into Antigone’s back pocket, pulled out a small pistol and shot Theresa in the eye. Theresa collapsed where she stood. Chris screamed, dropped to his knees and hugged the lifeless body of his fallen Mistress. He looked up at The Duchess with tear-filled eyes. The Duchess coldly stated, “I was gonna give you a quick death. I just had to kill my best friend because of you. Now I’m not gonna kill you. You’re a slave right? Well I know the perfect Mistress for you.” The Duchess turned to me, “I’m bringing him to Lavinia. I understand that her beloved Alfred met with an untimely end. I’m hoping your Matriarch will find Chris to be an acceptable replacement for Alfred.”

I nodded my head.

The Duchess placed her hand on my shoulder and said, “Ask her to make sure he suffers as much as Alfred, and for just as many years. Tell her that I’ll consider it a favor.”

I replied, “It will be as you wish Duchess. I’ll see to it personally.

The Lioness and the Black Widow 1

As I rode shotgun with The Duchess at the wheel, “THUMP!” “THUMP!” “THUMP!” came from the trunk. The Duchess turned up the music, the bass thundered through the Lincoln drowning out the pounding and scraping sounds that were emanating from the trunk. She looked at me, smiled, then yelled over the music, “Do think their fucking back there?” Then she laughed maniacally and let out a victorious high-pitched scream at the top of her lungs.

The twins followed behind us in the Cutlass. The resurrected Roger rode in the trunk. We stopped in front of a large two-story white house in a clean, upper-middle-class neighborhood. We pulled the two men from the trunk and hurried them to the front door, the four of us huddled around them. Roger was left in the trunk of the Cutlass. He remained still and silent.

An older woman answered the door. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t get a chance to speak before The Duchess barged in with all of us following close behind. The woman slammed the door and whispered furiously, “All of you! In the kitchen now!” We followed The Duchess down a long hall, the voices of several people could be heard coming from one of the rooms on the right. The woman rushed us past the occupied room, through a swinging door and into a large, immaculate kitchen.

In all the adrenaline and movement, I hadn’t paid much attention to the older woman’s appearance. She looked to be in her mid-40’s, her hair was dyed black and hung to the middle of her back. She wore a black corset, a long black skirt and black leather boots with heels. The woman took a deep breath as she looked around at all of us. Her face continued to redden as she tried to calm herself down and maintain her composure. Finally, she tossed concern for the maintenance of her composure to the side and yelled while flailing her arms, “OH JE-SUS FUCK-ING CHRIST!!! WHY?!?!? Why are you doing this to me Duchess?”

The Duchess said, “Calm down. Everything is going to be fine. We just need to use your attic for a little while.”

The woman replied, “I have guests right now.”

“Go tend to your guests. We’ll be quiet.”

The woman stared at The Duchess wide-eyed, “Whatever it is you plan to do, and DO NOT tell me what that is, you cannot do it here! NO! Do you understand? Why the hell do you need my attic anyway?”

“I like way the sun comes through the little window and strikes the hardwood floors at the foot of the St. Andrew’s cross. It’s very poetic, the atmosphere gives me a sense of serenity. It’s chaotic times Theresa, and I need all the serenity I can get.”

“That’s great. Now that I know that psychopath’s have little inspirational moments too, maybe we can move on to the matter at hand. YOU ALL NEED TO LEAVE!”

The Duchess shook her head, opened the fridge and browsed through it’s contents. She removed a package of steaks and tossed them on the counter. “We’re not leaving until we’re done. Go tend to your guests.”

“Do you understand that I cannot have any illegal activity…”

The Duchess interrupted, “You mean like all that dope we set you up with? Illegal activity like that? You should keep your feet out the gutter if you don’t want to shit on your shoes.”

A large woman with a crew-cut entered the kitchen. She was dressed like construction worker and built like a wrestler. She looked at the two men standing cuffed with gags taped in their mouths. Then she looked at Theresa and smiled. Theresa glared at the woman and ordered through clenched teeth, “The get-together is cancelled. Everyone needs to leave NOW!!!” The woman nodded her head and quickly left the room.

Footsteps and voices echoed in the hall as the guests left. Theresa sat down at the kitchen table, pulled up her skirt up to her knees and unzipped her boots, “I ask for just one small phase of pretend normalcy; just a short vacation from the absolute fucking insanity that has been my life since I met you.” She glared at The Duchess as she flung her boots to the side. Theresa rose to her feet in just her stockings, she only stood at about 4 ‘11. The twins snickered and Theresa shot them a contemptuous look, “That’s great. Real grown-up.”

The twin on the right replied, “Damn! You’re always uptight. Didn’t you already do the menopause thing?” The other twin burst out laughing.

Theresa narrowed her eyes and bit her lip, “You two couldn’t spell menopause between you if I gave you an 24-hours to do it, a dictionary and a computer.” The two men stood trembling and sweating as the women bickered back and forth. Theresa pointed at me, “Who’s this guy?”

The Duchess replied, “He’s from the Kastelic’s.”

“Why is he here?”

“He’s my guest.”

Theresa shook her head, “Oh hell no. We’re not going down this road. Send him back.”

“I’m not sending him back till his Matriarch makes good on her promise.”

Theresa looked me in the eyes and said, “You know that’s not why you have him with you.” Theresa looked me up and down, “He’s a mercenary. Send him back.”

“He’s not a mercenary and I’m not sending him anywhere.”

Theresa turned toward The Duchess, “If he wasn’t a mercenary, we wouldn’t be having this discussion. You wouldn‘t have an interest in him if you didn’t intend to use him, and you cannot use him unless you take him. You can‘t take him if he‘s loyal to his Matriarch, now can you? If he is up for grabs like that, he‘s a mercenary and a liability.”

“A liability, yes; a mercenary, no. This is beyond your understanding. It’s a Matriarch-thing.”

Theresa stared at The Duchess shaking her head in disbelief. She threw her hands, “Fuck it! It’s your decision anyway, right? Don’t you think that the Second-Chair should spend some time with him before we allow him to get too comfortable?” A chill went over me and goose bumps raised on my skin when I heard “Second-Chair”. I remembered the role “Second-Chair” played in the other house, when Lavinia held that position and later, when Damijana and Sally shared it. I knew that I definitely did not want to spend time with the woman who held the position of “Second-Chair”.

The Duchess asked, “Where is she anyway? I told her that I wanted her around today.”

Theresa responded, “I have no idea. I told her not to be here because I was planning to have normal fucking people over for once. She stayed away.”

“Go with the twins and take these two upstairs.”

“Look, you can’t kill these guys here. Chris comes home in a few hours.”

“Who the fuck is Chris?”

“I told you about him, he’s my fiance.”

“You said you had a slave. You didn’t say anything about a fiance. What the hell are you doing over here? Do you think you’re Betty-Fucking-Crocker or something?”

“He is my slave and he is my fiancee. You don’t understand…”

“I don’t want to understand. Go get some clothes, your purse and go meet your fiance wherever he is, and take him on a vacation somewhere. We are using this house for a few days.”

“Bullshit! You can’t just flush my whole life down…”

“If your fiancee comes home while we’re here…I’m killing him. If you don’t want that to happen, get your shit and go.” Theresa grabbed her boots from the floor and stormed out the room. The Duchess pulled out a frying pan and opened the package of steaks. The meat sizzled when she placed it in the pan. She looked at the two men and said, “I wonder how long I will have to starve you, before the sound of your own flesh sizzling this pan arouses hunger and causes your mouth to water.” She called out to the twins, “Girls, take those two up to the attic.”

After the twins left, I asked, “Who sits Second-Chair?”

“I’m impressed. That’s a good first question to ask when you become involved with a house like ours. Her name is Antigone. You’ll meet her before the day is over. And you will be spending some time with her in the near future. She needs a good grindstone to sharpen herself against.”

“I would prefer not to…”

“Fuck what you prefer. Let me explain something to you. Anyone who has ‘it’ will rule over you completely, for as long as they have you engaged. You have as much choice in the matter as you do over your skin color or who your parents were. This is why Theresa called you a mercenary. She’s wrong, because that would mean you have choice. You have no control over who the Goddess sends you to. You have a function and you will fulfill that function. I don’t have to threaten you. I don’t have to read your mind. If I command you to do something, you’ll do it as sure it rains.”

She gave me a challenging smile. “Am I wrong? No, I am not.” She went to a cub-board, got out a cup, pointed to a chair and said, “Wait there.” She exited the room and came back a few moments later. She set the cup down in front of me and said, “So, they had to hold you down to pour urine down your throat, huh? I heard that the thought of drinking someone else’s urine horrifies you. Is that true?” She pushed the cup toward me, “That’s my piss in the cup. I want you to drink it, for me, all of it.”

I looked at cup and fought the urge to vomit. I lowered my head and shut my eyes tight. I clenched my hands together in my lap. I wouldn’t do it. As I thought about my refusal, my hand went to the table and grabbed the cup. The Duchess said, “You’re gonna drink it anyway. You may as well sit up straight and have a little fucking dignity about it.”

I sat up straight, gripped the cup, raised it to my lips and drank. I slammed the cup on the counter when I was finished and wiped my lips. The Duchess looked at me, her eyes showed delight. She said, “The Goddess acknowledges my strength of will and I have Her blessings as a Keeper of Her Altar. That is why I have control over you. Later, you will encounter other women, from other houses; they will seek the same blessings and acknowledgement. If they can’t take ‘it’ as quickly and easily as I just did; then they are an imposter and you won’t give them a fucking thing. Got it?”

I nodded my head.

“Good. It’s time to play with our friends upstairs. I love it when I have multiple people to torture. It means that I can make person a sit and watch their peer suffer, and endure unbelievable amounts of pain and agony before it’s their turn. The terror and dread that person feels when he sees his friend being castrated, disemboweled and skinned alive a few feet in from him…I don’t know quite how to describe it. It just emanates from my victim filling me with this intense feeling of euphoria. It’s like…it’s like the first time I went to a ballet.”