Story description: A drugged assassin is tested. A showdown between mothers unfolds and leads to revelation. A son confronts conflict and resolves his struggle. The story continues from chapter three.
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"Where the fuck is she?" Opal grumbled.
The petite assassin questioned if she'd gone to the right room. She'd been given an address and was instructed to rescue a teacher.
Since it was a night class for immigrants learning English, the only person she'd seen was a janitor. The man was so alarmed by her disheveled and flushed appearance that all he mustered was a slack jaw and a finger pointed down the hall.
The classroom was empty and a mess.
She looked at the desk and found it cleared but puddled. The floor was littered with pencils, papers, and books.
Walking further into the room, her nostrils gathered the scent of cum.
On the cusp of orgasming from that pungent odor, she jiggled her head in bewilderment.
She thought, why am I pleasurably tingling from that disgusting smell?
She then licked her lips with an urge to taste it and questioned, what the fuck did that bitch do to me?
Opal should've been angry. Instead, she felt melancholy and concerned.
Earlier, she had learned information from the streaming video that showed a confrontation between the husband and wife. Learning what that man had done to his daughter along with other revelations had her fuming.
Finding herself locked in the room didn't help. It brought a rage of destruction. She destroyed everything in sight, including the video monitors.
After calming down, she picked the lock.
Overall, the destructive outburst wasn't like her. She had the occasional temper tantrum but usually kept the emotion in check. She'd been a fool to believe Ruby was being nice when she offered her tea. The bitch had drugged her with the same shit that was quaffed by the mother.
Opal confronted Ruby with the intention of killing her.
At that moment she observed a sorrowful woman suffering from a condition that had her immobilized to a chair.
The obese woman sat with her hand over her heart and looked at Opal with a miserable expression. It was as if the woman's world had just been shattered by some event.
Acting on sensation more than thought, Opal moved to gut the poor woman.
Ruby's fearful eyes pivoted to the shiny blade held in the assassin's grasp. From that one simple action, she acknowledged her mistakes. Time was irreverent when one faced annihilation. In that instant, she realized their entire master plan was one devised by fools.
Ruby rapidly exclaimed, "I'm sorry," and then burst into tears, blubbering, "I'm a dupe!"
Opal stopped with the point of her knife pricking Ruby's chest with indentation.
Normally hearing anyone make a heartfelt exclamation wouldn't stay her hand. Her training superseded compassion. The woman didn't beg her to stop. For the first time, she hesitated and then looked down at her blade with confusion.
Overall, that wasn't what prompted restraint.
Opal couldn't follow through because a peculiar memory superimposed itself over the mark's expression. The drug somehow allowed a snapshot of her forgotten past to emerge like a hallucination.
She'd seen the same look of horror before. It was a forgotten memory of a younger Ruby in hysterics. Shackled naked to a bed, that woman had yelled at her to run. It came at her with such clarity that she almost touched it.
It was a dream that had been lost to adolescents and overwritten by time. She now remembered. To escape the monster searching for her as a five-year-old, she ran.
Defeated by the impact of recollection, Opal swiftly returned the knife to a hidden pocket.
Dazed, she dropped heavily into a chair across from Ruby.
With a fixed gaze, she grumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck... Who the hell are you? I was a child and you—ah, are you my fucken mother?"
Ruby cringed over Opal's incessant use of, "fuck," but didn't answer.
She simply clasped her breast from pain and stared at Opal in momentary silence.
Upon acknowledging Opal's recall of an event, she expressed a sorrowful pout and then said, "Honey, it's time for truth—but not now. You deserve answers—but not here."
Opal exclaimed, "I want the whole spill here and now, not later!"
No longer troubled by the symptoms of her condition, Ruby removed her hand from her chest. She tightly gripped the arms of the chair and then smirked.
She replied, "My dear, I fear that there's no time. Understand, I've made promises—but I no longer care to keep them. My plan has been altered by a pure heart and my scheme requires a hands-on approach. In truth, I need you gone. I swear, I'll tell you and Andy everything. First, I have an urgent mission that requires rectification."
To Opal, it sounded like an assignment to get her out of the office. After two weeks, she'd learned about Ruby's manipulative nature. She saw through the sham; the woman didn't care about the teacher. It was an act with a hidden agenda. Knowing this, she began questioning whether Ruby had been sincere moments earlier.
How can I ever tell when this woman tells the truth? Was it a mistake not ending her?
Vincent's previous warning not to kill the woman and the memory kept her from revisiting that possible outcome. She needed answers and Ruby had pledged to provide them.
Opal had sighed, shook her head and then silently left.
In route to her destination, she'd experienced a wave of sensations the entire drive. When her vision blurred, she'd been forced to pull over.
She sat staring as vehicles whizzed by. It had become hypnotic and she'd lost track of time. It was dusk before she snapped out of it.
Now standing near the teacher's desk, she observed a crumpled dress, bra, and white panties. It was a clue to an outcome. It caused her mind to wander.
In that instance, she imagined the teacher bent over being gangbanged by immigrant men of all nationalities and ethnicities.
It was as if the woman was real.
The woman morphed and became her.
She saw herself folded over that same desk surrounded by huge hard dicks. She watched her pussy stretched around a huge black cock while it relentlessly rammed her. An Asian man thrust into her mouth, causing her to gag and gurgle.
Dreamily, she took two steps and stooped over the desk.
She pleasurably shuddered from the penetration.
Fucked like a whore, she broadened her eyes at that realization.
"Oh—no fucken way! This is ludicrous!"
Humiliated, she thrust herself away from the desk.
Opal remembered the mother had seen things that weren't real. Ruby had convinced the woman that her son had enormous blue-balls that were about to explode. To release pressure, it had become a medical necessity that she encourage ejaculation by any means necessary.
In a short time, the woman had been remade to act like a whore and greedily ate spunk from her crack.
The insanity of those actions was unreal, but the reality was crazier.
Opal was now in a state between revulsion and desire. An incomprehensible contradiction that made her both panic and cream. She remembered the horror of watching the mom gobble jizz like it was sweet honey. She was aroused by that memory and the implications of that terrified her.
How could anyone be incapable of control simply by being made horny?
Trained to be an impassive rock, she was a chameleon capable of performing any role using emotion as the deception. A form of mimicry that had been honed to perfection. The drug had shattered that foundation. She was flooded with real sensations that were once practiced in a mirror. Fear was unfamiliar, but she could identify it.
The mother had been made a fuck-puppet with a singular purpose. Intentionally placed in a loop of desire and deviancy, each fed on the other. An endless addiction to pleasure and cum.
Is this my fate?
Opal watched wide-eyed as the mother sat spread-eagled on the desk and frenziedly slurped slimy semen from her cunt like was viewed on the video.
She reacted to that perverse hallucination by touching herself.
Ten seconds of feverish rubbing caused reality to smack again.
"What the fuck is wrong with me!"
She then shook her head and closed her eyes to the illusion.
She murmured, "Control yourself. Breath. Exhale. You're not looney, it's the fucken drug."
Is this what happens if a person's sexual impulses aren't directed by another, she thought.
If the teacher wasn't here, where the fuck was she? Why did she even care?
Was the woman out in the dark sucking men dry? Am I doomed to follow? I only drank one fucken cup!
Opal panicked at the idea of being turned into a freak.
Clearing her mind to focus from that possibility, she breathed as she was trained.
Experiencing emotion is the only way to master it, Vincent had said. Once ruled, eliminate it from your soul.
There had been only one trait he refused to abandon and that was nurturing love. He had intentionally thrust the weakness on her and said the value far exceeded eradication.
When a hand touched her shoulder, she intuitively reacted.
Any other man would've have been permanently crippled, but Vincent wasn't that man. He easily dodged the disabling blow and then instinctively maneuvered around multiple punches that followed.
He said, "Opal, it's me. I heard you yell, and you were standing immobile when I entered. Are you okay?"
Her expression altered from annoyance to confusion. "Am I okay?" she grumbled and then followed by saying, "Vincent, why are you here?"
"Well—to save you."
She folded her bottom lip under the top and began fidgeting in place. After a moment, she said, "From what?"
He smiled and then replied, "I thought it was from yourself, but you seem okay. I was worried."
