Synopsis: After listening to the call of motherhood more times than she expected, Ashley Delacroix is eager to get back to work but she needs a good babysitter a.s.a.p. When her sister June recommends Corinne for the job, what seemed like a regular interview turns into a dark fascination from which there’s no escape. For Corinne holds a secret, one that goes back to 90’s Germany where illegal experiments in the pursuit of the fabled Fountain of Youth have created a pair of “monsters” no one can resist. And what’s worse is that Ashley’s husband—Jeremy—was involved in it.
((Author’s Note: This story was written for Mason. Thank you for the inspiration and support. Originally a Patreon reward, It’s been available in e-book format for a few months now. Today, I decided to share it with everyone else. I hope you like this dark fantasy.))
They Must Be Fed
(a.k.a. Corinne)
Part I
Ashley Delacroix glanced at the expensive gold-plated wall clock hanging over the scorching fireplace and frowned. It was half-past seven, fifteen minutes past the scheduled appointment.
If her grandmother were still alive, no doubt she would have used her favorite sentence by now. It went like this: “never trust someone who’s late for a meeting for they will always be late for life.” Much like everything she said even before Alzheimer took over her mind, it was quite the exaggeration. Her now loving husband had been one hour late for their first date and everything turned out okay. Still, over the years, Ashley had learned to treasure punctuality more than most, a fact that became clearer the older she got.
It was hard to believe she was almost cracking fifty and even harder to realize she was a mother for less than eight. For some women, the call of parenthood is like a siren’s song, a sweet promise of a brand-new life one can’t wait to be without. For others, it’s more of a piercing scream, a biological Banshee’s wail reminding them of their mortality and the need to ensure a legacy before silence falls. Ashley’s life had been perfectly balanced on the refusal of both until Jeremy begged her with puppy eyes to start a real family. She fell for that look four times. It was now too late to go for a fifth.
It was never too late to get back to work though. After being separated from the fashion industry for an eternity and a half, the moment had come to claim back her memories... but only if the prospect baby-sitter ever came.
“Do you know anyone that’s reliable and trustworthy to take care of my kids?” she had asked her sister, June, the day before.
“I know more than one, but the best is Corinne. Not sure if she’s available though.”
“What’s so special about her?”
“She’s just a sweet girl through and through, a real gem. Max used to be a brat until she came but he has never misbehaved since.”
“I could definitely use her services then. Things have been quite the mess around here.”
“The twins giving you trouble again?”
“When do they not? I love them from the bottom of my heart but...”
“... they’re little fuckers, I know.”
“And now Holly wants me back in the magazine again and I...”
“... you want to spread your wings one more time, I get it. Let me see if I find her number, okay?”
“Thanks.”
June had come through but not the call. Instead, Ashley had to settle for a text with the job offer and a request for a meeting.
“Interested?”
“Most definitely,” was her response. “Until tomorrow then.”
Tomorrow arrived with a prelude of normalcy disrupted by autumnal showers and a woman’s tardiness. Corinne could be a dear just like her sister said but patience was wearing thin.
Corinne, on the other hand, wore a beautiful faux-leather aquamarine tank top with a matching skirt and wedge ankle boots when she rang the doorbell twelve minutes and fifteen seconds (but who was counting?) later.
“Mrs. Delacroix?” She muttered when the door was opened. “I’m so sorry, traffic’s hell on the way here and I couldn’t call you because my phone’s going haywire again. Hi, I’m Corinne. So nice to meet you,” she closed in for a hug.
Ashley trembled at the sudden display of intimacy and escaped the contact as fast as possible though what repulsed her the most was the thing she should have seen coming but chose to ignore.
“Of course, she’s hot!” She thought. “Oh boy, this will not end well...”
Yes, Corinne was hot, not “manufactured-pornstar-type” hot or even “next-door-girl-material” hot, just hot by any self-respecting pattern of beauty no matter how subjective they all are. The petite young woman was only five feet two in heels with a beaming smile, almond-shaped engrossing eyes and curly, carrottop hair any shampoo brand would love to feature in one of their commercials. A queen of accessories, she wore two pendants around her neck, one featuring the Chinese character for “love” and the other a garnet ladybug slowly spreading her wings, plus two gold bracelets on her left wrist, another on the right one and a thin multi lock and key charm anklet. The hint of a butterfly tattoo could be seen above her right clavicle with a similar one hiding between her 38C breasts. She smelled of lemongrass and grapefruit oil, two scents that had no right to combine at all.
“A pleasure to meet you, too,” Ashley concurred. “Please come in.”
“Thank you,” the baby-sitter scrolled past the foyer and dove straight into the living-room where everything in sight was strategically designed to make it seem bigger than it already was, from the black-and-white striped floor to the set of small mirrors lined up on the farthest wall or the ceiling wallpaper that made people think of stars when they noticed it. The light colors added to the illusion, reflecting on the hostess with surprising ease.
Unlike her guest, Ashley was quite the tall woman. In fact, she was the tallest one in seven generations, breaking the mold of decaying bloodlines with a bang. Back in college, she had taken advantage of her phenomenal height to grace the basketball courts with perfect hoops, a fulfilling hobby that could have turned into a skyrocketing career were it not for an ankle injury that never fully healed. The runway dream came the year after, first as a model, then as a professional photographer, until she became Photo Editor at Fashion Radar, a job she held on to for nine years before the birth of her first child. The African American whose skin tone was more like young Michael Jackson than 2019 Beyoncé also made herself look even more Amazonian by always wearing V necklines or open-neck shirts. Whatever the color chosen, she always looked good.
“Oh, wow!” Corinne tapped her heels as she examined the living-room. “This place is amazing! Let me guess: you did all the interior decoration yourself, am I right?”
“Yes, you are,” Ashley responded with a polite overtone. “Glad you like it. Most people don’t. They think it’s too...”
“... spacious? Yeah, I can see that, but you don’t want it to be too cramped either. Personally, I love it. I bet the lighting during the day is just superb.”
“True. Not today, of course,” she approached the closest window, a blanket of heavy clouds turning the endless sky into a pale imitation of itself. “Thank you for coming.”
“You’re welcome,” Corinne took a seat in the middle of the room. “The moment you told me you were June’s sister, I knew I had to meet you.”
“When did you work for her exactly? She forgot to say...” Ashley sat next to the young woman, long legs crossed away from her.
“Hmmm... a couple of months ago. It was rather a short stint, but I really enjoyed it.”
“So did my sister. She spoke so highly of you yesterday that I’m surprised she never mentioned you before...”
“Well, she never talked about you either if that makes a difference...” Corinne giggled. “June is great. One of my best su... I mean, patrons. Growing up together with her must have been a real hoot.”
“Never a dull moment when she’s around, that’s for sure...” Ashley mumbled, taking notice of the half-chewed word she had (intentionally?) let slide.
“So you have four terrorists in the house?” the redhead fiddled with her hair.
“I do. My husband wanted a Max of his own, but Nature chose otherwise.” Ashley fetched a picture of the whole family and handed it to her. “The two in red are Jill and Samantha, they’re six. Sitting on my lap is Trudy, and the one my husband is holding is Ava, named after his mother. She was ten months when this was taken, and that was two months ago.”
“They’re so cute. How old is the middle one?”
“She’ll be three next Sunday.”
“Awesome! Surprise party?”
“We’re not sure yet.”
“Oh, come on!” Corinne’s eyes twinkled. “All kids love surprises especially at this age. If you need someone to jump out of the cake, then I’m definitely your girl.”
“I hope you’re not serious!” the black woman retorted.
“Nah, but I made you wonder for a moment, didn’t I? Don’t mind me, Mrs. Delacroix. I’m a clown at heart.”
“Never seen a clown as hot as you,” Ashley shrugged, eyes wandering to her delicious bosom. Like many young girls in her dorm during the basketball years, she had often wondered if the true remedy for a dry mouth was a lubricated cock or a wet pussy when the hidden option was perhaps more appealing: firm, round boobs, with dark nipples dripping fresh, natural...
“No, thank you, but a beer will do fine,” Corinne said.
“Excuse me?” Ashley blinked.
“You asked me if I wanted a glass of warm milk but I’m not a kid anymore, Mrs. Delacroix. I’ll take a beer though, if you have beer around the house, that is.”
“Hmmm... sure, one moment, please...” Ashley got up and headed towards the kitchen, still dazed at the unexpected influx of libidinous thoughts rushing through her body. Her pussy clenched with each step almost as if she had returned to the runway for one last, inebriated show.
“Can you make it a cold one?” Corinne asked. “It’s so fucking hot in here.”
“I hope you’re not planning on using that language in front of my children if you’re really set on working here.” Ashley pulled herself together and returned with two beers instead of one.
“Don’t worry.” Corinne stood up to receive the cold drink. Mexican, her favorite. Yum!
“You won’t be able to dress so provocatively either, you know?”
“You think this is provocative?” the petite teaser took a sip. “It’s a good thing you haven’t seen my wardrobe then. Are you okay, Mrs. Delacroix? I can’t help but notice that ever since we started talking you’ve getting progressively more... distracted...”
“I’m fine. Let’s get down to business, shall we? Going back to work full-time means I won’t be able to spend as much time with my kids as I would like. I’m willing to pay top dollar and even though I have my doubts, my sister tells me you’re worth every penny. What is your availability?”
“Total. I’m always available for you if you want me to. I’m also always open to any suggestions you wish to give me...” Corinne smirked.
“Huh?”
“Like I said... distracted. So easy for that to happen around me, isn’t it? One moment, we’re sitting here talking about young girls and surprise parties, the next you’re bringing me a beer like I’m the boss without taking your eyes off my boobs. Runs in the family, I guess...”
Ashley blinked again, the mental slideshow turning faster, a single thought of submission falling like a droplet of milk. There’s no way she had been staring the whole time, just a glimpse here and there of those perky tits rising from the leather top, oozing the most exquisite and intoxicating fluid she would so love to...
“Drink your beer and snap out of it, my dear,” Corinne commanded. “It’s not time for that yet.”
“Time for...?” she slurped, drooping eyes.
“Whatever fantasy is being triggered inside your subconscious right now will have to wait until you answer a few questions so listen carefully. Is your husband joining us today, Mrs. Delacroix?” Corinne sauntered behind the silver couch, perfectly manicured fingernails scratching the expensive fabric. “I hoped that would be the case because he and I go a way back, you know?”
“Oh? How did you two meet?” the older woman queried, senses trying to go into red alert only to find out someone had cut the power to her brain.
“That’s a story I’d rather he shared as it’s a great one,” the baby-sitter chuckled. “So... is he coming or not?”
“No, he’s not coming, today,” Ashley replied, sipping her drink, both the real and the imaginary fluid building up inside her stomach. “It’s... it’s funny to hear you say you two go a long way back when you don’t look a day older than twenty.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot, but I’m actually twenty-three... ish.”
“Ish?”
“Give or take. I’m not good with numbers unless they’re the basic stuff like three, two, one, and... come up and go down again. Don’t stop staring at my boobs and keep those nostrils wide open for me.”
Two spiraling traces of boob juice leaked from the bottom of the top straight into her bottle.
“Fuck, this one is going strong,” Corinne muttered. “I’m sorry, sweetie... I wasn’t planning on doing this to you so soon, but my boobs have a will of their own. They realized right away you and June really are alike. She also became my mindless sucker the first day we talked.”
Ashley offered no response, mouth wide open, pink tongue sticking out like a bitch in heat.
“Easy now... I understand how overpowering it is so you’re doing the right thing by not trying to resist at all. Just take it in and let it take you. Corinne’s sweet milk is all you need to go deeper... three, two, one... where is your husband now, Ashley?”
“On a plane headed to Australia on a business trip. He won’t be back until Saturday.”
“Just in time for Trudy’s birthday, huh? I guess I must wait for him then. It’s not like another couple of days will kill me after so long...”
A vigorous hair pull muzzled Ashley’s attempt at asking another question and forced her head straight into the baby-sitter’s wet bosom.
“You have a lot to learn about the kind of man your husband is, Ashley...” Corinne lulled her. “Until then, let’s see how good of a sucker you really are...”
Part II
Jungbrunnen Klinik
Berlin, Germany,
August 3rd, 1999
Professor Jeremias Scholz laid down the wet umbrella by his office’s door and proceeded down the third-floor mirrored hallway until he reached the private elevator only Level 4 employees could use. His assistant, Franz, already stood there, worn-out keycard hanging by the white lapel of his jacket. Both the outfit and his baby face, now decorated by a large reddish bruise that extended from the left side of his forehead to the outline of his lips had seen better days.
“Does it still hurt?” The older man queried making a circular gesture with his right index finger.
“All the time. Even when I’m not breathing. She got me really good,” Franz sighed while he waited for the elevator’s door to open.
“I told you not to get too close, didn’t I? Increased aggressiveness is one of the side effects.”
“You and I both know her response was way off the base parameters. She’s special.”
“Herr Jung feels the same which is why I’m here today,” Jeremias shrugged, the promise of an Alpen skiing resort melting away from his mind.
“Sorry about your vacations but it’s for a good cause.”
“Is it really?”
“Having second thoughts again, Professor?” Franz cocked his head.
“Always. Doubt is the true drive of a scientific mind, not certainty. Or haven’t you learned anything from me all this time?”
The black metallic doors gave way to a cubic container programmed to take them all the way to Heaven. The top floor of the clinic was often invisible from the outside, hidden by strategic light reflections and the surrounding buildings. If you blinked, you would miss it, and people blinked all the time. Jeremias knew not how much such an elaborate concealment scheme had costed and didn’t care either. It was better to be up high than in an underground facility, anyway.
“I learned a lot, you know that,” Franz continued, an earnest pupil hellbent on impressing his master. He would never be successful for his standards were ever changing, much like the added sum of all his bank account, both inland and offshore.
“Too bad ‘a lot’ didn’t include keeping your distance. You’re lucky she didn’t gouge your eye!”
“Trust me, I know that, too. By the way, you might want to check this out...” Franz handed him a clipboard from top to bottom with his incomprehensible handwriting.
“What’s this?”
“The latest DNA results. You were right. The increased exposure to the bug’s venom is triggering a massive cellular breakdown.”
“Not just a breakdown,” Jeremias glanced at a series of red charts, all of which had notes to the side as well. “This is a full-blown mutation. If I’m reading this correctly, I’m not sure she’s even human anymore.”
The elevator’s ascent stopped, and the two men exited to the most sophisticated section of the complex. Instead of snake-oil therapies sold to rich customers with too much money to burn, the Omega Lab as it was informally known by all that dwelled on it, was where the true anti-aging research happened, the majority of which was also borderline illegal and unethical.
It had all started in the late 70’s when Klaus Jung, sole remaining heir to one of the most powerful families in the pharmaceutical business in West Germany was diagnosed with a rare and extremely degenerative autoimmune disease. Despite being given less than a year to live by all the experts at the time, the multi-millionaire did what and multi-millionaires do when Death creeps by their beds, and diverted more than two-thirds of his fortune to pursue experimental techniques that ultimately reversed the brain damages for good. Despite most of them being dangerous, the results came in. One year became two, two turned to five, yet the increased lifespan had done nothing to keep his body from ‘believing’ in its old age. The hormonal Fountain of Youth remained a myth far more powerful than the one of Ponce de Leon’s stories.
A recent expedition to Borneo, the Kingdom of Bugs, made all the difference. Among the countless crawling creatures brought in for study, there was a never seen type of scorpion with two barbed tails as opposed to one. The most surprising discovery had been that the two appendages operated independently from one another, with the left specimen producing a neurotoxin capable of paralyzing all insect life and the other a nutrient bath that nourished its victims in order to make them look healthier and younger before the consummation of the meal. As ingenious as it was deadly, it was also the perfect excuse for even more unsolicited experimentation.
Between the months of January and June 1999, thirty-six women disappeared from the streets of Berlin without a trace. Twenty-two found their way to the compound, drugged, stripped of memories, and identity. Ten received the original combination of neurotoxin and nutrient bath and died horribly from self-mutilations after seventy-two hours of exposure. Ten more were administered a synthesized version of the two that reduced the incidence of aggressive negative side effects yet promoted a state of catalepsy that proved irreversible. The remaining two—subjects Y6 and Y13—were the only ones to receive a third variation of the compound infused in a melatonin web. Heart complications rendered subject Y6 useless as a test subject after the first dose but the other one...
“Herr Scholz, so glad you could join us for this additional test run,” Klaus Jung greeted him with a trembling handshake. Going bald and almost blind, the sixty-one-year-old man was surrounded by a team of physicians and personal security expertly trained to tend to his every need, especially those that broke the law.
“It’s not like I had any other choice,” Jeremias looked the other way and adjusted his tie “You had my flight cancelled at the last minute!”
“We’re making History here. I expected you to be thankful for being a part of it!” The millionaire scoffed, money sickness oozing from his aging pores.
“You’re just trying to save your own ass and get richer in the process, Herr Jung.”
“So very true, and that’s why I like you, Herr Scholz. You never mince your words even knowing you can be next on the operating table.”
“Lucky me I’m too valuable for that then. You can have Franz though. He’s been dying to get stung, anyway.”
“Please don’t even joke about that,” he mumbled.
“Not so much of a good cause when your ass is on the line, huh?”
“You are both very amusing, gentlemen,” the frail man retorted. “but we have business at hand. Patient Y13 can’t be allowed to wait much longer. Care to lead the way?”
“Sure,” Jeremias conceded as he took everyone for a ride. The two leading scientists on the project headlined a group of eight with Jung struggling to keep up even on a motorized wheelchair. Besides the elevator entrance, Omega Lab comprised six different rooms with one intersecting corridor connecting them all. Rooms 1 and 2 were standard investigation facilities, large glassy rectangles with iridescent microscopes, blinking computers, and more information displayed than a human brain could process. Room 3 was for non-human specimens’ containment. Rooms 4 and 5 served as both operating rooms and autopsy ones when required and Room 6 was the holding cell area where all the screams happened.
“I always knew 6 was my number,” Jung chuckled, dark-red blood building up between his teeth. It was an old joke he repeated ad nauseam, an argument numerology experts would love to debunk. Considered the most harmonious of all single-digit representatives, it was nicknamed the motherhood number with its most important trait consisting of sacrificing, caring, healing, protecting and teaching others.
“He never gets tired of that, does he?” Franz mumbled.
“He’s already half-senile, what did you expect?” Jeremias concurred.
After two expansions in little less than forty days, Room 6 was the largest of them all although its space was now mostly devoid of life. Patient Y13 cackled on the inside, screeching nails covered in fresh blood. She was completely naked after shredding the last three blue gowns they had given her. Above her tangled hair, swirled a cloud of pink gas, the new dispersal method of the torture she was being subject to.
“You’re back, Professor Scholz,” she hissed “I was hoping I’d seen the last of you.”
“My apologies for disappointing you then though you seem a lot calmer than the last time I was here.”
“Hmmm, yes... things have changed, but the desires remain. I see you brought both your pet assistant—how’s that eye, big boy?—and good old ‘grandpa’ with you. What a lovely family reunion.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through this...” Jeremias sat in front of her cell, legs crossed.
“Hmmmph... everything about your body language says otherwise and if you’re so sorry, then why are you here? Unless you came to release me...”
“I can’t do that, and I’m here because I don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice and you’ve chosen to keep your pockets full of blood money while all around you people die and get... turned.”
“That’s the primary reason I’m here. You look younger. Do you feel younger, too?”
“Younger?” Warm saliva trickled from the corner of her mouth. “Oh no, much to the contrary. Everything is old like the universe. I’m seeing colors I didn’t know existed, I’m hearing voices where there was none and these...” she rubbed her juicy breasts. “These are so much more now... They will be your downfall once I finally escape from this place.”
“Tell me about your changes.” Jeremias motioned Franz to record the procedures and keep a close call on her heart rate. Next to him, Jung was foaming from his mouth, delirious excitement intertwined with his natural born madness.
“I’d rather show them...” She beckoned and ground her tight pussy against the thick glass. “Come inside and I’ll make a real man out of you.”
“When did you start hearing those voices? What do they say?”
“When is unimportant but what they say should be obvious... ‘Kill them. Kill them all’, what else?” She laughed, the gas cloud continuing its unearthly descent. It now enveloped her shoulders, feasting on her scarred skin.
“I’m sorry, Y13, but the only one who seems to be dying is you.”
“That’s not my name! Do not, I repeat, do not call me that again.”
“Yes, it is your name!” Jung chirped, bulging eyes admiring the once homeless lady’s newfound curves without remorse. “And by God, you look beautiful even with that underlying psychosis going on! It’s just a matter of time though. We’ll find the right dose, the proper combination of ingredients and then the sky will be the limit. I can’t wait to have this product perfected and shipped all over the world. We’re going to make a fortune with you.”
“You’ll be the first to eat your words alongside your heart...” she growled.
“Believe what you want, Y13, but you’ll never be free again!”
“I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT!” She banged her forehead against the glass cage. “My name is... hmmm... My name is... is...”
“Corinne,” Franz completed in a whisper although he would never utter it again.
“Yes, that’s it... that’s who I’ve always been...” she knelt, the gas becoming thicker, stronger, a burning mass ravaging her lungs, eyes and mouth. “Fuck, it hurts! Why does it hurt so much?”
“No great achievements are accomplished without a little pain,” Jung concluded. “Rejoice for you’re the herald of a new dawn. After you, no man or woman will ever have to grow old again.”
“Quite the steep price to pay...” Jeremias nodded, images of the dead bodies that came before her haunting his thoughts. He should have left when he had the chance, and never allowed things to go so far, but now it was too late. Or was it?
The new test results proved what everyone had already expected. The genetically manipulated insect venom had forever altered her physiology, leaving a hole in her mind the size of the universe. Though she was getting physically younger by the day, Corinne would never be the same. No sane person would, let alone an insane one.
The very next day, overtaken by accumulated guilt he could no longer deny, Professor Jeremias Scholze embarked on the first plane to America. Two years later, he changed his name when he married human rights activist Sandra Kirkwood, a union that only lasted six months due to ‘irreconcilable differences’. After spending most of the next decade running from memories and fruitless romantic endeavors, he filed for a second name change to honor the beautiful and talented Ashley Delacroix.
Part III
Saturday,
Present Day
It was half-past eight pm when Jeremy Delacroix arrived home, his suitcase packed with everything except what he wanted. He was cranky, angry even. The deal he had worked so hard for in the last couple of months had fallen through due to last minute demands no one would have seen coming. His employers believed otherwise though, taking the easy way out in blaming him as employers love to do. Now, despite being the most successful consultant in the firm in a very long time, his neck was on the line, and after almost sixteen hours of flight, it was almost about ready to fall off his shoulders, too. He needed a bath, a warm meal, and a good night’s sleep to counter the effects of the ever-aggravating jet-lag, not in this order.
During the long way back, he rehearsed his arrival speech a thousand times or more. There was no easy way to tell Ashley that everything had been a bust. He didn’t want to disturb her now that she was getting ready to claim her career once more yet staying silent wouldn’t work out in his favor either. Ever since their wedding day, she always knew when he was hiding something, his feeble attempts of dissimulation making it even more obvious to her keen eye. Avoiding the subject altogether was an option, but the questions were sure to come anyway, and all questions deserve an answer even if it’s the one thing no one wants to hear.
The first thing he noticed when he walked in was the silence. He wasn’t expecting a welcome party or anything but with four children in the house, the odds of all of them being silent at the same time were next to none, especially considering Trudy’s upcoming birthday. Still learning how to talk, she had asked for a ‘tuffed kangaoo’ right before he left. He hoped the 15-inch plush toy bought at Tullamarine Airport on arrival would qualify.
“Honey?” He muttered to the dormant house, not a single wall bothering to answer back. Quietness was both a blessing and a curse, so he cursed while trying again.
“Ashley? Are you here? Hell, is anyone home?”
“I’m in the kitchen,” his wife replied, her voice more distant than usual. “I hope you had a good trip.”
“More annoying than anything else but we’ll talk about it later,” he navigated the main corridor. “Why is everything so still around here? Where are the kids?”
“They’re all at June’s house. She insisted that way.”
“She?” Jeremy loosened his tie and entered the kitchen. Ashley stood by the counter, her back turned to him. She was completely naked, one hundred variations of the word ‘bitch’ plastered all over her delicate brown skin. “What the fuck? Ashley, who did this to you?”
“I did it to myself to please her,” the businesswoman shrugged as she turned his way. “She loved it. Do you love it, too?”
“No... I... Ash, are you okay?” He stared into her vitreous eyes. “It feels like you’re high or something!”
“High?” She paused. “Yes, it looks like that, doesn’t it? I think I am. Drunk with her power and control. Oh, Jeremy, it’s been nothing but wonderful ever since you left but now that you’re here, I’m so glad you’ll get to experience this bliss, too.”
“For the last time, what are you saying?”
“She’s talking about me, Herr Professor,” Corinne whispered. She had been hiding behind the kitchen door the whole time, an evil smile outlining dark painted lips, and a boning knife on her left hand. “What an absolute pleasure to see you again! I wish I could say you look the same but that gray hair doesn’t you do any justice and is it me or did you put on quite the weight since the last time we were together?”
“And who might you be?” He examined the sultry yet dangerous young woman. A complete stranger, he couldn’t place her anywhere in Time.
“Awww... you don’t remember?” Corinne pouted and licked the hilt of the knife. Dressed in black from head from toe that day, she looked like a gothic Lolita with the sleeveless semi-transparent frilly blouse meshing perfectly with the asymmetric tight skirt, the shredded tights and the double buckle military boots. “How can you not remember Berlin?”
“I’ve never been to Berlin.”
“And you never left me to rot there either... what a disappointment, Herr Professor! Are you so ashamed of your fatherly sins that you buried them in the deepest corners of your memory?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You are young enough to be my daughter but I sure as hell never seen you before.”
“Not what I was hoping you would say,” Corinne nodded, disapprovingly, “but okay. I was a little different back then so I can forgive you for not recognizing the way my body looks today. I can’t have you forget everything else though so perhaps Patient Y13 rings a bell...”
“Impossible!” Jeremy quivered, an irrational fear creeping up his spine.
“Ah... all coming back to you now? Yes, Professor... the illegal experiments at Jungbrunnen Klinik, the dozens of scared women who they abducted and turned into unwilling test subjects in the name of a forsaken Fountain of Youth... You were there and so was I, locked in my little cage as the poison you dumped inside me changed everything I know.”
“No!” He choked, the acrid taste of bile reaching his lips. “There’s no way you’re her!”
“Oh, but I am. The one and only, the Corinne of your darkest dreams. You weren’t around to see the final stage because you were too busy running away from your responsibilities, but it was painful and glorious at the same time. As you can see...” she twirled like an insane model dominating the runway. “... the drugs worked out quite well, perhaps a little too well. I’ll never grow old the same way again, but I’ll never be whole either. There are holes in me, you see? Ragged, sharp holes on my mind only their voices can fill now. I love them and I hate them. You, I just hate. How could you?”
“Yes...” Ashley droned, the veneer of her vacant smile cracking. She circled her husband and kneeled besides her owner. “How could you have done such a thing?”
“Corinne, you... you have to understand. Jung was insane. I only did...”
“... what they told you to do? You were just following orders?” She fumed, holding the knife close to Ashley’s craving throat. “Many have used that excuse before, and it always falls short. I don’t care about the contract you had with that maniac. You were free to say ‘no’ and refuse to disgrace yourself like this.”
“I refused! That’s why I left!”
“While you may have felt a hint of remorse, you and I both know the real reason why you went away was because you are a coward. You didn’t have the guts to stand up against him. Even when you ran, you had the chance to report what was going on. An anonymous phone call to the proper authorities would have shut them down but no! You got off easy and left me there to rot for two more years!”
“Shame on you!” Ashley muttered, a proud bitch willing to sacrifice herself.
“He kept going for two more years?” Jeremy sobbed.
“Yes, Professor. Two years of daily ‘treatments’ and countless variations. I’ve had needles stuck in every part of my body, my blood transfused over and over again. I’ve had pieces of skin ripped off from me without anesthesia just to monitor the limits of my pain threshold. They analyzed my cells, broke them down, re-engineered them more times than I can remember, and you know what was the irony in all of this? They never truly figured out why I reacted the way I did, they couldn’t replicate the transformation. Instead, all their torture just strengthened me.”
“How did you escape?”
“I didn’t...” Corinne shrugged, a warm hand rubbing her thrall’s chin while she purred. “Not conventionally, at least. When Jung died, his successor deemed the project ‘too risky’ and ‘an aberration’. The site was terminated, all evidence destroyed. I was a threat, so they executed me. Twelve rounds, point-blank. An open landfill on the city’s outskirts was to be my final resting place. I should be dead but the same mutation that keeps me young and pretty has other plans for me. The voices that claimed my mind need to be heard. Most importantly, they must be fed.”
“Show them what you mean, Mistress.” Ashley begged her. “It’s time he learns the way I did.”
“You’re right, my sweet, it is. Meet the babies, Professor.”
Corinne undid her blouse and the satin bra underneath it, perky boobs happy to for the release. They were already dripping honeyed, narcotic milk. Ashley lapped at it, ravenous tongue savoring each drop as if it were the last.
“Adorable, isn’t she? Your wife is a perfect slut. You should be proud.”
“How are you doing this?”
“I already told you how. You changed me, turned me into a freak. I didn’t ask for any of this, but I have to play with the hand that you so carelessly dealt for me. There’s no living man or woman that can resist my boobs now. I’m sure you won’t be the first.”
Corinne pushed her servant away and stepped forward, ripe breasts beckoning Jeremy’s senses. The cool evening air kissed the dark aureolae as they swelled before his incredulous gaze.
“See? This is how it begins. A simple glance, a look... Everything seems normal at first, a pair of loose tits in the open like all the others you’ve seen before but as you gaze deeper, they come to life. Just like that, you are hooked, and a dark fascination becomes a stare. You wonder just how powerful they can be, but you need not look any further than your horny, rapacious wife. Poor Ashley... she just wanted a babysitter to get on with her life, and not depend on you any longer but whatever my boobs want, my boobs get, and they wanted her brainwashed, braindead... which is how you want to be for me. You’ll say “no” at first, of course, hammering your so-called independence with the subtlety of a sledgehammer and yet your freedom is already a thing of the past, fabricated by your deluded psyche. You gave up the right to be a free and fully functioning member of society the moment you left me to die. It would be easy to pay you in kind, perhaps with this same knife I’m holding. I could do it to her first while you stood there, powerless to stop me and yet, I’m merciful. I’ve chosen to give you the never-ending bliss of becoming mine. One drop to get you started, two for the addiction to form, three to sustain the fall... Join her.”
“Yes... come join me...” Ashley licked her lips and slithered to him, all traces of who she used to be now gone forever. Clasping his legs like a zombie straight out of hell, she smirked when Corinne rubbed her bosom and a splash of warm milk shot forward, hitting his face, eyes, and chin. A solitary white tear rolled from the bridge of his nose to the tip of his tongue, the first of many delicacies that would fill his new life.
“Want more?” Corinne cackled. “Don’t worry, plenty to go around to keep you hard and subdued. You’ve already lost, Professor... Time to worship what you hate.”
Befuddled, he remained silent while the two women pinned him down, Ashley ripping off his pants to feast on his engorged manhood and Corinne drowning the echoes of the past in ichorous joy. The flow ran deep, memories breaking down. He gurgled. And coughed. And begged. Heaven was here!
As Corinne watched husband and wife united in the writhing pleasure only her boobs could provide, she sighed. After almost twenty-years seeking retribution from all the people that damned her, her contentment was always short-lived. Crossing names off her bucket list was too easy now, no real sense of accomplishment once they became enthralled and ready to serve. Yet, she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. They would always demand more, the corruption needed to spread. Their sustenance was her sustenance, their delight the only worthwhile aspiration. All she could hope was that, some day, one came along that actually tried hard not to crumble.
Could Franz be it? He too had vanished from the face of the Earth after Berlin and his sins were even greater for he had stuck around until the end. The last clue concerning his whereabouts dated almost three years, with the trail going cold in a quaint Italian village. Perhaps it was time to resume the search, to bathe herself under European skies once again. Her pets were loaded, and it’s not like they needed the funds to themselves anymore. Money is often used to buy silence. It could buy some new voices and leads, too.
Yes, she was going on a long trip after she had her fun. Without another word, she ordered them both to suck on her boobs while her boobs devoured their minds. Perfect.