This is a continuation of The Mission' and 'Staying Alive', being part 3 of the 'United Districts of Kali' series. Series management on Lit is poor, so sorry this is all screwed up. I'm still learning the publishing ropes.
I've tagged this back into BDSM, and will keep the rest of the series here. I've since mapped out the full story (the first two were largely from the hip, as an antidote to something else I was editing,) and I think there's maybe a half dozen more to follow.
This part of the story has much stronger fetish/BDSM elements, and the underlying mind control theme is very much in the background. Again, there's some blood and it's a little more graphic (at the start and end). As always, I try to remain as eloquent as I can to keep it within the spirit of the story instead of it becoming a kink side dish. There's also some light golden shower malarkey and naturally as much twisted blasphemy as my Illuminati puppet masters allow. Enjoy!
-
Chapter One
Mother All Superior perched upon the edge of her thin, hard mattress. She'd survived yet another long day of flagellation, and was exhausted. Being in the order required enormous sacrifice, and every day provided her with new tests of spirit.
She looked down upon her weathered hands and parted them. She'd been absently wringing them again, which was a habit she needed to break. They were badly blistered; dark tendrils spread from her tenderness and grabbed at the cracks in her skin. Yet she accepted the pain as part of her constant service, and as a reminder of all the suffering and blood sacrifices she'd endured.
Of course, she could have just worn leather gloves whilst savagely whipping the slaves, but she considered that to be insincere. For her, maintaining integrity with a healthy work/pleasure balance remained vital at all times. After all, it had been the key to her professional success.
It was late, and she'd skipped supper hours before. Service was perpetually demanding, and she found it very hard to break her rhythm once warmed up. Despite being in her final years, the saddle had blessed her with a teen's sexual appetite, and she was going to enjoy every damned second whilst she still could.
Another batch of slaves were due the next day for their tour of the mystery school, so she needed to eat to maintain strength. Given the compression of time and energy, she decided to order some fast food, and dialled it up on the comms glass.
Minutes later, two naked slaves entered her dimly-lit chamber. It was fairly spartan, save for her extensive collection of whips, paddles and strap-on beasts randomly nailed to the wall. Despite the functional decor, it lacked the usual ostentatious trappings of excess wealth one would have associated with a religious head. Mother All Superior was many things, but it could never be said she wasn't genuinely fanatical. Just what
that
meant however, wasn't so clear.
"Mains," she said flatly.
A slave approached and positioned himself squarely. Mother All Superior extended her ring to his chastity cage and tapped at it.
"Extend."
The cage grew in length and the slave's cock chased after. DeliverOoh slaves were fitted with specialised cages which had integral telescopic sounders.
The slave stepped between her splayed legs and presented her with the tip of his stainless steel cage. Mother All Superior licked her lips as she bent forwards, then engulfed the warm steel with an arid severity.
"De-with-er" she mouthed, and the wide, hollow sounder responded with intense, but precisely tuned vibrations.
The slave tensed, jolted, but then relaxed. She waited for a count of ten and then snapped her fingers, firing his subliminal triggers.
"Ooh!" he gasped, and delivered her dinner over long, sizzling seconds.
She vacuumed the last of him and sat back up, tilted her head backwards, and savoured the sensation as his meat and potatoes elastically slid down her throat.
"Mmm," she groaned in acknowledgment. It had been a full and nutritionally balanced course, which was what she'd needed. Solids would have to wait for tomorrow.
She felt herself relaxing as her tongue enjoyed the aftertaste clinging to the roof of her mouth. Catering slaves were fed specialised diets which impacted body, flavour and aroma. Over the years, the menu had become extensive, daring, and frankly rather delicious.
The slave retreated.
"Desserts," she said with a new warmth of anticipation.
The other slave approached and presented himself.
She tapped her ring to his cage.
"Bite."
The slave gasped as if he'd just had a door slammed against his face. His body trembled and convulsed, but remained solidly footed due to his conditioning.
Redness slicked his inner thighs.
Mother All Superior watched, wide-eyed and trembling. She swept her fingertips over the colour, like an innocent child wondering at the world, then pulled his warm stickiness into her mouth.
She shuddered and fell backwards.
"Dismissed," she whispered, her head floating between worlds.
The slaves departed the chamber, one faster than the other, and closed the door.
She clawed at her hessian, and began fingering, whilst she tongued Kali's offering between her lips.
Suddenly, she felt a triple jolt from her saddle.
"Fucking hell!" she gurgled in a lick spittle of crimson cum and fingers.
She propped herself up in annoyance, made arcane gestures with her ring hand and tapped three times against the small side table.
The hologram of a small, white bunny rabbit sprang up from the glass top. It thumped its tail and span around in a tight circle from excitement.
"Well howdie pardner!" it said gleefully, "Wanna fucky bunny?" it leered, growing an eye cartoonishly large.
Mother All Superior was barely breathing from all of her trembling. She wanted to say 'yes',
needed
to say it as the saddle's pregasmic pleasure primed her senses, but she knew she wouldn't remember anything much after if she succumbed to the weakness of her fleshly desires. Normally that was the whole point, except the only way the saddle could initiate a call was because of an emergency situation.
"Next time sweetie pie, you'll owe me double," she said with considerable effort.
Her bliss receded, and for once she was grateful. She continued, "So what's the problem?"
The rabbit grabbed a carrot from thin air and rapidly gnawed away, whilst effortlessly speaking at the same time.
"I couldn't tell you," it said matter-of-factly.
Mother All Superior had been here before. The problem with the avatar was that by design it was privacy sandboxed, so it couldn't directly tell her anything that she didn't already know. However, experience had taught her that a bit of creativity could sometimes tease the information it wanted to share.
That all said, she already knew damned well what had triggered the emergency, because she'd been informed during morning worship about
the animal
.
"How's Niamh?" she said.
"No idea."
"Did her bus depart okay?"
"Who knows?"
"Okay, okay. This is an emergency situation, right?"
"Yeppity!" it said, circling wildly with happiness.
She pondered her strategy. There was only so much it would know, because it wasn't an all seeing eye, and whoever designed it way back in the revolution had never intended it to be.
"Are you aware of John Herald?" she tried, throwing out the most obvious yet least-likely-to-be-answered question first.
The bunny exploded into a cascade of fluffy balls and then reappeared, grinning insanely.
Mother All Superior was stunned.
How the hell would it know about him? He couldn't possibly have been saddled... Orientation is days away yet!
She looked intently and held her chin in thought. "You've... you've
met
him?"
A burst of pleasure travelled through her body, the rabbit dived down a hole, and then the avatar was gone.
"Holy mother of God, I mean: Kali, or whatever. Well, some fucking bitch anyway, the cunts! What the fucking bloody hell?" she spat, as the implications began exploding one catastrophic scenario in her mind after another.
She burped cum-rosé, but it was only a momentary reprieve.
-
Chapter Two
John sat the now-clothed mistresses on the couch. Thinking strategically, he'd asked Niamh to refit his chastity cage, and chose to remain naked and collared before them. It worked, and the mistresses visibly relaxed, including Kerry, which warmed his heart.
He shifted the coffee table out of the way and sat down in front of them in supplication, yet his demeanour was anything but meek. It was obvious to all that he commanded the room.
"I didn't know you were saddled," he began, "but I can't grasp why you're not concerned about my behaviour in relation to what that must mean for yours? Niamh, you especially, can't you see how intense you're being? And that it's like and on-off switch? What am I missing here?"
Niamh's eyes were red-rimmed from her constant weeping. She sniffled, and absently wiped her eyes with her palms.
"It's not the same saddle. And we use a different app. So like, we control the slaves with HandlR, but use SkulptR for ourselves."
"Apps?" John replied, his eyes widening in horror, "That sounds like a '20s nightmare! Apps! That's insane. And slaves? Surely, you mean: servants?"
Her eyes narrowed. "'Servants' is an archaic Union word used in the brochures. In the UDK, it translates to the modern day word, 'slaves'. But ye know, it's all the same like."
"Sure it is," he humoured her, "So tell me about these 'apps' of yours, I'm feeling left out of the cool crowd?"
"We use them to tweak ourselves... the saddle's an amazin' yoke... and like, it's required once ye come of age. The foundin' matrons, bless 'em, started all of that now. They were fierce wise!"
John stared at the women. Although nothing more was said, they all seemed to be in agreement.
