Deborah really had played her part to perfection and so convincingly. It was as though she was in a trance of domination and Della could not believe her luck—or was it genius?—in choosing her as the corrector.
“The transporter will be here for you presently,” Della said while retreating behind her desk to sign off the last few papers. Head still down, she absently asked the woman a question. “Tell me, prisoner, why were you so keen to get out of this place?”
Katja shifted on her heels as if deciding whether to answer or not. “I owe someone something, that’s all. I need to pay them what I’m due.”
“Guilt is a powerful motivator.”
“Perhaps.”
“Is that all?” the governor asked, suspecting that it wasn’t.
“Well, if I can get out of here, I can tell this person that it is possible for others to do the same.”
“Oh, how interesting.” Della smiled and handed the papers to Jane who opened the door to take Katja to the transporter. “Give these to the driver, Jane—she’ll know what to do.”
“Okay,” said Jane gruffly as she manhandled Katja out of the office.
“And I’ll let Doctor Regan know we’ve had our first success story.”
Katja froze in her tracks and tried to shrug off Jane’s grip. “Wait, who?”
“Deborah Regan, you know, the one who’s been thrashing you red raw for the past few weeks.” Della went back to her paperwork and dismissed the women with a wave.
“She’s Deborah Regan?” Katja’s face paled in horror in the moment before Jane dragged her away and the door slammed shut.
Della heard the scuffling recede, then shrugged and got back to her paperwork. Katja must have read about Deborah in the newspaper somewhere along the line, she reasoned. Well, at least she’d have some gossip to share wherever she was going to.
Della carefully stored her files away in the safe. She didn’t want anything to happen to this research. If recent events were anything to go by, the program was destined to become a huge success. She smiled and let herself daydream of taking her place among the Archmatria and other elite of the land.
* * * *
“Snap out of it!” A sharp slap on the cheek brought Marcus to his senses. Two women were standing over him, looking crazed with lustful fulfillment. They took their gaze away from him as one addressed the other. “I told you he was a good submissive.”
“The best I’ve ever used.”
Marcus searched his memory for what might have happened between the three of them, but could only slip into the vision of being with Deborah at the meeting point, making love to each other with their very souls. He took in a long breath and sighed it out in deep satisfaction. As he stretched his arms up, pain seared across his back where the skin moved over the sheets. He’d been thrashed well today. Somewhere in his mind, he’d known it while he was with Deborah. The more intense the sensation in the physical world, the more intense it was in the metaphysical, and Marcus was grateful for every sting.
The woman pulled him gently to a sitting position and began to bathe his wounded flesh with soothing gels and lotions.
“You really are quite astonishing at this.” One of the women leaned in and kissed him on the neck in what appeared to be gratitude. It occurred to Marcus that it was he who should be grateful. “Have you no pain barrier?”
Marcus smiled sadly to himself. He’d borne the greatest pain imaginable throughout these past few months—nothing else could come close to that. When you’ve suffered the pain of a broken heart, you can take anything. He almost said the words aloud, but quickly stopped them. He had to make sure he never became the object of their pity—or they might go easy on him, and that would jeopardize everything.
“I guess not,” he uttered casually as they finished and started to gather their things. “When are you coming back?” he asked, trying not to sound too eager.
The women looked at each other.
“Well, it’s quite an expensive pastime, you know, coming to the farm’s finest.”
They smiled and gave him no clue as to whether they’d be back at all. It was fine; most of the woman who’d come to him had sent him into ultimate unity quickly and easily. It was just that it had been utterly absorbing this time.
He heard the door softy close, with the turn of the key just audible over the chattering and clacking of heels.
Lying back on his bed, Marcus took his soft cock in his hand and conjured the sensation of Deborah shuddering and quivering all around and through him.
* * * *
Deborah peeled off the corset and hung it carefully in the wardrobe. She felt bereft. Devastated.
The governor had come in earlier and excitedly told her that the correction had been a success and Katja was being released. When Deborah had given no reaction, she’d looked crestfallen and left quickly.
The black rhinestones felt jagged and rough under her fingertips as she smoothed the creases of the hanging garment, using it as a distraction from her feelings.
The vision of her future rolled out before her—a stream of women to punish and send on their way. But who would send Deborah on her way? Who would free her of this place?
And what if none of the other inmates sent her to the meeting point? Deborah still held the belief that her success had more to do with Katja than she knew. Chemistry and biology are very powerful things, she mused, recalling her days bent over Petri dishes and microscopes.
What did it matter now? Humans, it seemed, reveled in their own demise. Even when the cure was with them, corruption and power stole hope from the masses and kept it for themselves. Deborah felt bitter with helplessness.
She went through to the lab and started tidying away the useless equipment. Something caught her eye and she looked out onto the courtyard below. Katja was being led away by one of the more kindly guards. It was a cold day and Deborah was almost touched when she saw the guard place something around the young woman’s shoulders. Deborah leaned in, pressing her forehead hard against the glass. It was a fur. She scrabbled up onto the windowsill and peered out to where her fox pelt should have laid.
Gone.
Suddenly fierce with possessiveness, Deborah shoved open the window and started shouting out and banging on the glass.
The two women turned and looked up in confusion to where Deborah was yelling.
“That’s mine, that’s mine. Stop!”
The guard paused for the briefest moment before continuing her journey. It looked like Katja would ignore her too until Deborah shouted once more.
“Katja!”
The woman spun around, eyes searching wildly for Deborah, who waved frantically, stretching her arms out of the window.
“Katja, that’s mine, leave it.” Deborah knew she was being irrational, but she couldn’t help it. Her symbol of freedom and hope was leaving through the gates without her.
Deborah stared as Katja fought with the guard and struggled to pull away. She was clearly trying to say something. The guard pulled harder, barking orders, but Katja twisted and turned, shrieking all the while. Deborah stopped her own screaming and banging and strained to hear the woman over the guard.
“I know M…” The guard’s hand clapped hard over her face and she swiped it away with her cuffed arms. “I know where Marcus is,” she managed to yell just before the guard knocked her to the ground with her elbow. She knelt there for a moment, winded and coughing, while Deborah stared, trying to take in what she’d heard.
The guard hauled Katja to her feet and put the fur around her shoulders once more. Deborah was struck dumb at the revelation. It made sense to her now. She knew there had somehow been a connection, and now it had been confirmed. Her breath caught high in her chest and tears welled in their ducts as she leaned out the window and tried to form the words.
“Tell him I love him,” she sobbed but Katja was already at the gate.
Her symbol of freedom was walking away, but this time...this time hope, not despa
ir, filled Deborah’s heart.
Marcus would know where she was now and come for her.
Closing the window, she climbed down from the sill and went through to her bedroom. The notebook was warm between her fingers as she stroked it and lay back in her cocoon of silks and furs, dreaming of the moment when she’d meet her lover once more.
About Tabitha Rayne
Tabitha Rayne has been told she is quirky, lovely, and kinky—not necessarily in that order or by the same person. She writes erotic romance, and as long as there’s a love scene, she’ll explore any genre.
Her short stories are included in anthologies from Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, HarperCollins Mischief, Xcite, Oysters & Chocolate, Burning Books Press, and House of Erotica. Her novella, Mia’s Books, won a Reader’s Choice Award with TwoLips reviews. Taking Flight is the second book in The Clockwork Butterfly trilogy from Beachwalk Press.
Tabitha also has a passion for sensual art and loves to paint women.
Tabitha’s Website:
www.tabitharayne.co.uk
Reader eMail:
[email protected]
About The Clockwork Butterfly Trilogy
Book 1: A Clockwork Butterfly
Now Available
Book 2: Taking Flight
The prequel to A Clockwork Butterfly
Now Available
Book 2: The Meeting Point
The sequel to A Clockwork Butterfly
Coming Soon
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Taking Flight Page 21