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Authors: Tabitha Rayne

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BOOK: Clockwork Butterfly, A
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Chapter 14

The coach was a far cry from the one they’d been brought to the manor in. That was luxury, but this thing was barely roadworthy. Every bump in the road made Lena’s still bruised behind smart as it was bounced on the bare wood. Her hands were cuffed in front of her, which she thought was a bit extreme, until she realized the whole journey so far had consisted of her imagining smashing out through the window and running off into the scrub land surrounding the road. The thick, heavy metal pressed uncomfortably onto her wrists. She tried to twist them for relief, but the movement only made the pain worse and she winced.

“How much longer?” she asked, knowing there wouldn’t be an answer. The driver and her escort had remained completely silent unless barking a command. There hadn’t been any more commands since the “Sit there and be quiet” when they’d gotten on the coach. Lena kept asking the same question, more to relieve the boredom than to get an answer. The trouble with speaking when everyone else completely ignores you is that you start to feel completely stupid. Her voice had gone from a confident audible inquiry to a meek mouse-like mutter.

She tried to visualize what the correction facility would be like. Much like the place she’d just come from she guessed, but without the fun of Angelo or Mae. Lena thought about Mae. At the manor, she’d been a source of dominant annoyance, but sitting here remembering their times together, Lena felt like maybe she hadn’t been very fair to Mae. Mae must have been under a lot of pressure too at times. And she had been a wonderful and exciting lover. As had Angelo. Tears welled in Lena’s eyes. Why hadn’t he stopped? Why?

The coach lurched to a halt, and Lena was thrown off her seat into the back of the one in front. Her teeth bit through her lip as her face slammed into the wood.

“We’re here,” barked her escort, looking at her briefly before turning away. “You’ll look a pretty sight tomorrow.”

Lena hauled herself to standing and followed her escort off the coach. The doors swung closed, almost shoving Lena forward into the vast concrete walls before her. It was a prison. Lena sank to the ground, grazing her knees in the gravel.

“Oh, get up,” commanded the escort with open disdain. She reached under Lena’s arm and pulled her up and forward.

“Why do you hate me so much? You don’t even know me,” implored Lena, on the brink of tears again.

The escort pulled her roughly to face her. “Listen, you spoiled bitch. Do you know how many women would have killed for a position like yours at the manor?”

“You’re jealous?” It had never occurred to Lena that she might be one of the privileged ones. She suddenly felt ashamed, she
was
a spoiled bitch.

“Jealous? Don’t be stupid.” The escort was sneering at Lena as if she had the intelligence of a halved worm. “Of course, fucking an actual man and not just a rubber imitation would be nice, but you were supposed to be the one to escalate Y-sperm production. If you think people hate you because they’re jealous of a fuck, you are not only naïve, but an egocentric little idiot.” She gave Lena a shove toward the huge, ominous looking gates which swung open to reveal a barren, concrete forecourt. Lena scanned to her left and right and considered making a run for it, but her escort’s grip tightened as she urged her on.

* * * *

It seemed Lena wasn’t the only one who had behaved badly that day. Four other women stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the admitting officer. She peered around, half expecting to see the little pharmic whom she’d pushed over, but she must have given a convincing case. Each woman was handed a little bundle containing a nightshirt, dayshirt, and a toothbrush and ordered to the shower block.

Lena rubbed her bruised wrists after the kind-faced bathroom attendant removed her cuffs.

“Don’t you need a specific key?” Lena had asked her when she’d started to unlock her.

“No, not these days. There’s just a little catch. Here, look.” She pressed a tiny notch and the clasp sprung open.

“I feel ridiculous.” Lena smiled. “You mean I could have got out of those at any time?”

The bathroom attendant smiled at her with a twinkle in her eye. “No, they’re designed so that the prisoner can’t do it, but anyone else can, should they wish to.” She ushered Lena into a surprisingly large shower cubicle and passed her a big clean, fluffy towel. “Now you get good and soapy, Lena. I’ve had strict instructions to make sure all residue is gone.” She winked and closed the curtain.

Lena undressed, letting her manor clothes fall onto the already wet floor, and stepped into the scalding shower. She lifted her face and let it be pelted by the ferocious spray. It seemed that absolutely everyone knew of her crime.
So much for the manors being secretive.
Lena took the rough sponge and rubbed the dried out cake of soap onto it, creating a thick, pasty lather. She dragged it up her arms, coating them in white foam. She scrubbed every part of her body from head to toe, but kept her pussy for last. If this was the last time she would have his essence on her, in her, she wanted it to last for as long as possible.

The steamy heat and powerful jets of water were hypnotic and Lena closed her eyes, trying to forget her guilt and find a place in her mind where she felt good. She was relieved when memories of her and Angelo making love flooded in and eased her pain. Lifting the showerhead off its mount, she sprayed the full force of the jets over her body. It pummeled and seared her skin, making it rise and tingle as she aimed it over her shoulders and neck at the point where Angelo would nibble. She lifted her arm and sprayed the side of her ribcage where Mae would lick and taste her, telling her the flesh under her arm tasted like her pussy.

The jets of water became tiny tongues and teeth biting and sucking and tickling. She eased the spray around, under her breasts and up over her tender nipples. The water pelted the sensitive puckered flesh and Lena squirmed. Slowly, she moved the jet down to her navel, then lower to the fur of her mound. Her pelvis tipped automatically to meet the water as it buzzed to her pussy lips. The ferocious jet roughly pushed her pussy lips apart, exposing her peaking nub to the full force. Lena widened her stance and held on to the tiled wall for support. Hot water gushed onto her sex, in and around it with maddening intensity.

It felt amazing, but she knew she needed more if she was going to come. She moved the showerhead lower and clamped her knees shut around it, making sure the stream still made it to her gaping pussy. She reached down and pulled her lips apart. Losing her balance, she slipped down onto the drain, but managed to land quite elegantly, albeit with her legs splayed and feet halfway up the walls. Incredibly, the showerhead had become lodged in the perfect position where it sprayed directly onto her clit.

Lena was in a desperate state, and her sex was jumping with desire and want. Finding the soap next to her, she coated her fingers and reached around underneath herself, slowly slipping a finger into her tight ass. The pleasure was incredible, and she pushed a little harder while sliding three digits from her other hand into her convulsing, wet vagina. A vision of being fucked by Mae and Angelo at the same time branded itself into her mind. She felt wanton and giddy and let her guilt and dread sluice off and down the drain as she fingered herself to a spasming, glorious climax. She lay on the floor of the shower still holding herself until the shuddering stopped.

When her breathing had normalized and she’d removed all of her fingers, she glanced up to see the bathroom attendant staring lasciviously at her while clutching her breasts. Lena scrambled to standing, covering herself with her arms.

“Hmm,” the woman said. “I can see we’re going to have fun with you.”

* * * *

Thankfully, Lena was in a cell by herself. It wasn’t that different from the dorm at the manor. In truth, she actually had more space to call her own. She lay in the scratchy bed, which was halfway between a bunk and a hammock, and inspected her bruises. Her wrists were still a little sore, but it was her busted lip that was causing her the most pain. At dinner, every mouthful had stung, and even though she’d been starving, she had to eat slowly. It had been an eerie experience in the dinner hall with over two hundred women sitting in complete silence and chewing their food. It was so different from the vibrant chatter that filled the air back at the manor. Lena cringed a couple of times when she caught the eye of rough looking women nudging their partners and motioning to Lena. Word was obviously well and truly out about her and her status as killer of all humankind.

Lena couldn’t believe just how quiet it was in general in this place. When the inmates did talk, it was in hushed, respectful tones. Lena missed the chatter and the secret knowledge that there could be a new sexual experience at any moment. She cursed herself. Why did she let Angelo come inside her? She could have stopped him, she could have stayed focused and just made sure she completed the task she’d been given. Why did she have to be so selfish, so intent on her own pleasure that she’d been lost to it? She could have scratched her eyes out in frustration.

She began to analyze her feelings, realizing that she really couldn’t give a damn about her magic pheromones and saving the world. She only cared about Angelo and, the more she thought about her, Mae. The fantasy of them both making love to her that had sprung into her head in the shower snaked its way into her mind again and her hands drifted languidly between her legs. She was selfish. They were all right. She slowly rubbed herself to the brink of a relaxing orgasm and let her guilt sink away. Beautiful images swirled in her mind, first of Angelo making love to her, then Mae. Then Angelo making love to Mae.

Lena sat up straight in the bed, letting her blanket fall. Her hands were still glued tight to her mound as she felt herself turn pale in the darkness.

Angelo and Mae. Mae and Angelo. Her blood ran cold with jealousy as she realized who would be picked to be her replacement. Mae would steal him from her. She would make him fall in love with her and steal him. After all, Lena was only the first woman he’d had, he was sure to fall in love with the next and then the next. Relaxing her grip on her pussy, she lay back on the lumpy bedding. Clenching her eyes tightly shut, she fell into a frustrated, fitful sleep, full of dark sexual nightmares.

Chapter 15

“Did you not hear the bell?” An angry voice accompanied the banging on the cell door. “Get up. You’re late for your first correction.”

Lena jumped out of bed with her eyes still glued shut with sleep.
Collection?
Had she dreamed the whole prison thing? Had her guilty conscience played tricks with her mind?

She smiled. That was it. How could they let someone who was so important just fester in a prison? A great sigh of relief escaped her lips.

Rubbing her eyes, she yawned. She sat down on the hard bed and was abruptly yanked out of the hazy half-sleep state. The dawning made her keep her eyes tight shut for a moment longer. Fingering the buttons on her thick rough nightshirt, she gave up her delusion.

She changed quickly into the dayshirt and pulled on the sandals which at least gave her feet protection from the frozen concrete floor.
This building must be ancient
, she thought, remembering her mother telling her how the use of cement and concrete in construction had been banned in favor of timber framed buildings. “So they won’t leave a trace,” her mother had said by way of explanation, and it had made perfect sense to Lena at the time.

If they are so interested in ‘not leaving a trace’,
thought Lena,
why are they so intent on saving the bloody human race?
From that moment, Lena decided that she didn’t actually want to be the savior of something so destructive. The world would be allowed to breathe once more, creep in, and take over these filthy manmade structures, timber or concrete, who cares? It was all the same intrusion to Lena. She made a vow to herself that she would not be part of it.

The revelation went someway to untangling the knot in her stomach. Guilt of smashing the vial evaporated, leaving only heartache and yearning for her two lovers.

“Are you alive in there, 216?” The banging started up again.

216?
Lena looked at the patch sewn just above her breast. 216. That was who she was now. In a strange way, it gave her comfort. She was no longer Lena the murderer, she was 216.

She went to the door to find it unlocked and filed out to join the others. A guard swiftly came and hooked her under the elbow, storming off past the line of women in the queue for breakfast.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“Shh,” the guard snapped. “They want you to be fast tracked through correction.”

“I thought this was the correction,” said Lena, peering up into the woman’s profile to catch her snarl up the corner of her mouth in a sort of smile.

“No,” she said with a leering smugness. “You were wrong.”

Lena had to trot to keep up and was relieved when they stopped, albeit facing a very ominous looking door. The guard knocked three times and a tiny framed woman answered.

“Ahh, 216,” she said, eyeing Lena up and down. “Come this way.”

The guard gave her a shove and she stumbled through the door which was pulled firmly shut behind her. Lena meekly followed the wasp-like woman to another door. When she opened it Lena gasped. The walls were lined in the most lush looking velvet, the floors littered with finely woven carpets. Chaise lounges were strewn with satin and silk cushions, and golden candelabras flickered throughout the room.

“What’s going on?” Lena stared in amazement. She thought that Angelo’s room had been lush, but this was something else.

“You’ll see.” The Wasp’s voice was low and gravelly, adding strength and authority to her tiny, fragile looking frame.

Lena looked over at the woman’s breasts despite herself. They were held high on her chest by a tight lacer corset which cinched in her waist to an impossibly small circumference. Lena reckoned she could wrap both her hands around it and have her fingers meet. The thought made her feel excited. She snapped it away. She would keep even her thoughts loyal to her manor lovers.

“Here, have a seat. I’m sure you must be exhausted by everything you’ve been through.”

“I take it you know all about me too.” Lena fell gratefully into the soft silks and velvets that were being offered.

“Of course, Lena.” The Wasp winked at her and Lena knew she had taken a risk by saying her name not her number. “We feel honored to have to correct a celebrity like you.”

“Celebrity? I thought I was the most hated person on the planet.” Lena raised her eyebrows; maybe it wasn’t as bad as she feared.

“You are. That’s what gives you celebrity status.”

“Oh.” Lena sighed. She was actually glad she was here in the safety of this prison. “So how are you going to correct me?”

“You’ll see,” The Wasp said, leaning in and tenderly lifting a wisp of hair from Lena’s eyes.

Lena could have cried at this simple act, but it was over in a flash and the mood suddenly changed.

“You look terrible,” the woman snapped and picked up a black riding crop.

Lena could have swooned at the sight of it. It had a leather grip and the crop was made from shiny woven thread, terminating in a little tab of leather. She stared as if hypnotized at the instrument.

“I can’t have such an outfit making a mockery of my boudoir.” The Wasp beat the crop on her open palm while regarding Lena. “Cheryl, get me stockings and a tight lacer for the prisoner.”

Lena heard a scurrying behind her whom she assumed was Cheryl.

“I’ve never worn any of these things before,” said Lena when The Wasp’s assistant returned with the items draped over her forearms.

“Silence,” commanded The Wasp.

Lena couldn’t help being reminded of Mae. She let herself smile inwardly and decided that if her heart was broken, what would it matter if this woman broke her body too. She resigned herself to her correction and hoped, for a time at least, she might be taken away from her own mind and misery.

“Stand,” The Wasp ordered. Lena stood and lifted her arms as the shirt was hauled over her head. The Wasp cast it to the floor and looked Lena up and down. “Yes, I can see why they might want you back quickly.”

“I’m going back?” Lena’s inner smile burst through, and she bounced a little in hopeful excitement.

“No!” The Wasp stung Lena on the thigh with a brisk flick of her crop. “Not if you are going to misbehave like that.”

“But—” she started, only to receive another welt. Now that she had been given this information, she wanted to know how long it would take. She guessed that every time she asked, time would be added to her sentence, so she tried to keep the words tucked safely behind her lips.

“Keep your arms up.”

Lena obeyed as The Wasp lifted the black, gem-encrusted corset from her assistant’s arm. She let it hang from one hand and leaned in to Lena’s naked body, reaching around her and catching the other end of the corset. She pulled it up and snapped it taut onto Lena’s back. It was cold, and goosepimples rose on her skin and her nipples puckered. She turned her head as The Wasp stared at them. Lena breathed in and she knew her breasts were swelling under The Wasp’s gaze. Suddenly there was a tug and Lena lurched forward, wrapped in the boned fabric. The metal fastenings were cold and she winced as The Wasp twisted them closed from the top down.

“Turn.”

Again, Lena obeyed. The Wasp began to pull the laces, gently, adjusting the position of the corset here and there as she went, almost tenderly. She tied it and came to the front.
That wasn’t so bad.
Lena had seen pictures and heard stories of how women could faint under the constriction of a tight lacer, but this actually felt quite comfortable. She smiled at The Wasp who slapped her smartly across the cheek before plunging her tiny, cool hands down the front of the basque and hauling Lena’s breasts up and in so that her nipples were almost resting on the balcony.

“Cheryl,” she addressed the assistant without removing her gaze from Lena’s chest. “In or out?”

“You usually like out, ma’am,” came the meek reply.

“Hmm, yes. You’re right.” The Wasp pushed a finger under each nipple and eased it out over the top of the corset. They sprang and puckered furiously and The Wasp circled her touch around and around, causing Lena to groan a little.

Lena closed her eyes and thought of Angelo leaning in to take each nipple in his lips and nibble gently, bringing that feral joy to her pussy. She let her body relax and her sex flooded with heat.
Suckle me,
she willed The Wasp, but she had returned to Lena’s back.

The wind was knocked out of Lena’s lungs as The Wasp gave an almighty tug on the laces, drawing the corset tight around Lena’s waist and ribcage. She staggered and wobbled, but The Wasp had her in a firm grip and kept her upright. Lena could see the lengths of the laces coiled onto the floor as The Wasp pulled tighter. It was crushing and exhilarating at the same time, and Lena spread her legs to keep her balance. Just when she thought she was going to pass out, the pulling eased off and the laces were tied in a knot.

“Cheryl, the stockings.” The Wasp held out her hand, again without looking at the woman, and waited for the nylons to be draped over it. “Lena.” She spoke softly, but with an intensity that was mirrored in the stern look in her eye, “I surely don’t have to tell you of the value of these items, do I?”

Lena shook her head. Again, she had seen these things in pictures, but thought they were banished to history. A thrill ran through her as the image of a woman in the throes of ecstasy returned to her. She remembered an old worn out picture which had been passed around at the manor of a man with his head buried between the long, stockinged legs of an expensively clothed lady. These garments were now luxury items, no longer made for the utilitarian society that they had become. Substance over style was the order of the day and Lena could only wonder at this being her punishment. This was heaven to Lena.

“Good. Because if there is any damage…” The Wasp came so close to Lena’s face that she could smell her warm breath. “You will pay, 216.”

Lena nodded. The Wasp nodded to Cheryl, who stood next to Lena and bid her lean on her shoulder. The Wasp then picked up one of Lena’s feet and placed it on her lap. She rolled the stocking between her thumb and fingers until she reached the toe and slipped it on over Lena’s foot. Lena pointed her toe and breathed in with pleasure as The Wasp eased the nylon up over her calf and knees, then thighs. The sheer black outlined her leg, making it look poised and elegant. The Wasp smoothed out the wrinkles all the way up to her inner thigh, and Lena held her breath as a tiny finger quickly probed at her wet entrance. It was so quick that Lena wondered if it had happened at all, but whatever the truth, there was no denying that she was now very horny.

The Wasp placed Lena’s foot back on the floor and took some snappers from Cheryl. She hooked them into the tab on the corset then clipped it into the front of the stocking. She did the same at the back. Gentle pressure eased into Lena’s thighs and buttocks as the elastic pulled on the nylon and corset. The Wasp came and knelt before Lena again, taking the other foot this time and doing the same. Everything was meticulously done and Lena made no mistake this time when she felt the butterfly touch of a fingertip trailing through her pussy hair and briefly into her lips. Her clitoris buzzed with tantalizing ferocity at this fleeting attention. Lena spread her heels apart as The Wasp finished snapping the stockings into place and ignored her.

“This way,” The Wasp said. She turned and walked toward another door.

Lena followed obediently. If the last room was decadent, this was beyond opulence. The velvet was thicker, the silk smoother, and the candles seemed to flicker with a richer intensity. Lena stared open mouthed. The sofa was draped with furs in every shade. Lena’s mouth watered and her fingers tingled with the desire to touch the beautiful pelts. Just as she started to look more closely at the detailing of the picture frames and the patterns on the heavy curtains which lined the walls, The Wasp placed a blindfold over her eyes. Lena was so disappointed. Having spent so much time in the bare, stark cell, this feast for her eyes had been like nourishment for her soul.

“Do you know how we’re going to correct you, Lena?”

“No,” said Lena, trembling as The Wasp ran a nail across her collarbone.

“Well, you’ve been sent here because it seems that you can’t have a sexual relationship with anyone without developing feelings for them.” Lena could hear the sneer behind The Wasp’s words as she continued, “
Love
them even.”

“What’s wrong with that?” asked Lena, feeling bold.

The sting of the crop struck her on the thigh again, and she suddenly felt utterly exposed, only now realizing she had no panties on. The lick of the crop had brought her awareness to the naked parts of her flesh—her nipples, her buttocks, her pussy.

“Silence. It is not my job to give you answers. I just have to correct you.” She drew the crop down Lena’s shoulder all the way to her wrist and let it lie there for a second before giving her another quick
thwack
. “You are going to be given all kinds of sexual pleasure until you prove your emotional stability.”

Lena could have laughed out loud. They were going to punish her with pleasure. All she had to do was not fall in love with this rotten little creature. “Fine. Let’s get started.” Lena was suddenly thrilled by the challenge, if she could call it that. Her statement was met with another strike.

“Fine, let’s get started, what?” The Wasp’s hot breath circled below her ear and Lena sensed wickedness in its tone.

“Let’s get started, ma’am.”

Lena’s arms were pulled roughly behind her back and tied with the corset laces. She was shoved forward and stumbled over into the pile of furs. Her face delved into the pelt and Lena breathed in hard against the boning, inhaling the animal scent buried deep inside the fur. Male. This was a male hide. Her mental and physical memory of Angelo was suddenly awakened, and every nerve in her body rang with arousal. The corset dug into her ribs, and her nipples were squashed painfully between the garment and the fur. It was so decadent, so fabulous. Lena was completely wrapped up in her own want.

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