Are We Human? Ch. 04

"Do you like the sound of my voice, dear?" she asked abruptly.

"I do," he responded, struggling against the haste in his tone. "Of course I do."

"Is that why you insist on making me repeat myself?"

The firmness returned to her grip. The pit of his stomach opened up, and a stale breath of fear rose from its depths. Drew turned to Carly, grasping for some focal point on which he could ground himself in reality. He watched her click her lighter again and take a long inhale, before leaning back in her seat and releasing her smoke toward the two of them. She smiled at him and crossed her legs at the knee.

"Don't look at her, boy. You look at me."

When his head whipped around to face her, she could tell the fear had reached the top of him. Now it was dripping from his eyes, spilling from the half-parted mouth that hung open in confused disbelief.

"I asked you a straight up question, I expect a straight up answer," she warned, deliberating on every word she spoke. "You were an easy pick-up, weren't you?"

All options exhausted, Drew gulped and nodded.

"I was."

Abby - or perhaps Lady Sparrow - smirked at his admission before carrying her attention over to Carly, still reclined comfortably in her chair.

"You see? All it takes is a little bit of strength, and they'll bend for you."

Returning her smirk to Drew, she added, "maybe they'll even break."

This wasn't normal. This was as far from "fucking normal" as they could get. Where had Abby's bashfulness gone? Had his words pushed her to bring the grander truth to light? That couldn't be it; as important as his explanation had been, there was no possible way that it could have inspired her so powerfully. She wouldn't let Lady Sparrow out now; it was more crucial for her to maintain her prudish disguise in front of her roommate. And yet, the claw on his shoulder refused to relent its iron grip.

"You know what you need, Carly?" she asked, her gaze still affixed to the dumbfounded expression beneath her.

"What do I need, Abby?" her roommate casually replied.

"You need to get yourself a slut like I did. A weak and malleable slut that'll do everything you tell him."

The claw twisted into Drew's shirt and yanked him to the floor. The gasp that climbed up this throat was stifled as Abby pulled his head forward to smother him against her clothed vulva. He couldn't help but struggle against her. He had to be normal! She told him to be normal! He couldn't let the slut at his core emerge now, he couldn't let himself be seen.

"Stop squirming, bitch, you know you love it," Abby growled.

Carly's eyes grew in size as she witnessed the fight leave the boy's body. Her roommate relaxed her arm and let him kiss her of his own free will. He happily buried his face in her, lost once more in the familiar hypnosis. Fear and shame vanished underneath his lust, the slut's most primal concern. Carly observed the famished way his lips crashed against her, as if he thought he could taste her wetness through the thin layer of fabric that encased her.

"Shit," she murmured.

"See what I'm talking about? I'm the only thing he wants. He'd do anything for me."

She pushed his head back with a finger and cooed when she saw the blissful haze had fallen upon him again. She pinched his chin and twisted him so Carly could see it as well.

"Tell her the whole truth this time, pet."

Some part of Drew still wondered what the hell was going on, but his thoughts had degenerated into incoherency. The only thing that came through clearly was his mistress's voice. The embarrassment tingled in his stomach but failed to hold him back.

He giggled, "I'm her slut, Carly. I would do anything for Lady Sparrow."

"For what now?" she responded, puzzled.

Lady Sparrow chimed in, "I forgot to mention, he doesn't get to call me by my name."

"So then why-"

"Because it sounds better than Lady Heyman. God, if I had your last name though I would definitely use it."

"My name isn't that cool, I don't know why you always say that."

"Here, listen."

Lady Sparrow cuffed Drew's cheek with the back of her hand to reclaim his focus.

"Tell Lady Holiday she looks pretty today."

Drew turned back around and repeated, "You look very pretty today, Lady Holiday."

"Thank you, that's so nice of you to say," she beamed.

To Lady Sparrow, she said, "okay, I see what you mean; that does sound kinda cool."

"I tend to be right about these sorts of things. Wouldn't you agree, pet?"

"Yes Lady Sparrow, you're always right," he agreed.

She patted his head lovingly and permitted him to nuzzle her thigh.

The commentary track continued, "this is a lot cuter than I was expecting, honestly."

"I told you he was a sweet boy at heart," Lady Sparrow said lovingly. "He just makes more mistakes than I would like."

The nuzzling paused; Drew's ears perked up, alert to a new danger rustling nearby. He tested the resistance of the hand on his head and found it was holding him in place.

"Well, everybody makes mistakes," Carly reasoned.

"Yeah, that's what I told him. Mistakes are a natural part of being human. They represent opportunities for learning and personal growth."

The statement should have brought peace to his heightened awareness of danger, but the forceful hand that denied his exit signaled no peace to come.

"But you're not a human being, are you, pet?"

The darkness of her spirit extruded through her sharp magenta nails, now digging their way into Drew's skull. His struggles became visible, pushing back into her claws in a frantic search for escape.

"No, you're not," she answered for him. "You're a dog, at best. At worst, you're nothing. A fucking worthless worm under my foot."

Finally, his escape was granted. Lady Sparrow pushed him off to the side, and when he wearily picked himself up off the floor, he found himself mere inches away from Carly's long brown legs. She smiled in her friendly way before uncrossing her knees and parting slightly. Drew caught a small glimpse up her polkadotted pajama shorts - enough for her glimmering pussy to wink at him slyly - and then it was gone, retreating behind the crossed knees once more. He gazed up at her lilac smile, but the neediness in his eyes reverted into fear when he heard the footsteps coming in his direction.

"Worse still, you haven't learned or grown at all. Except for that useless cock, maybe," Lady Sparrow scolded.

She appeared beside Carly, arms folded with an icy glare hailing down on him. Drew looked down at the floor, trembling softly.

"You mind telling your mistresses what your big mistake was? I know you haven't forgotten, because I certainly haven't forgotten."

Drew opened his mouth to answer, but Lady Sparrow stamped her foot on the ground, eliciting a startled jump from everyone in the room apart from her.

"Look at me when you're speaking to me, you miserable shit!" she roared.

They could feel the breeze from the sudden raise of his terrified face. It tickled Lady Sparrow's skin.

"I came without your permission, but I won't do it ever again, I promise! I've learned!" he cried.

"You hear that, Lady Holiday? I was being nothing but merciful with my pet, stroking his cock for serving me so well, and without any consideration or respect for me, this ungrateful piece of work creams himself like a Goddamn pubescent boy."

Lady Holiday glanced down at the pitiful wretch and remarked, "you couldn't hold off for the twenty seconds it would take to ask?"

"I just... it was so good and Lady Sparrow feels so good and I co-couldn't stop myself even though I know I-"

"I think he's getting hard," Lady Holiday interrupted.

He paused, unaware that such a change had transpired. In a subtle move that everyone saw, he brushed his hand against his groin and felt himself rigid. He brought his legs together to hide his shame, but it was too late to save himself.

"Is that so?" Lady Sparrow cooed smoothly. "Stand up and show us."

He rose from the floor, but his eyes stayed fixated upon it. He couldn't bear to meet the carnivorous looks of his audience, creeping like spiders along his hands as they slowly unfastened his belt, unbuttoned his pants, pulled down the zipper. Every motion was meticulous, anxious to delay the reveal for as long as possible. The Ladies didn't mind; he could take as long as he wanted, but in the end, there was only one option for him. Nothing could protect him from it.

He remembered the earlier striptease in the bathroom, how enthusiastic he had been in front of an imaginary audience and how badly he wanted the real thing. Now it was here, in the form of his scorned mistress and this new stranger who was gleefully drinking in his dirtiest secrets. It became immediately apparent that he was only bold alone; the sensual hip-swaying in theory was a shaky peeling in reality. The pants slid down to his ankles, freeing his cock from the tight restraints of denim. The cotton of his boxer briefs were as helpless as he was to hold back his furious lust.

"My point exactly," Lady Sparrow said. "Your prick should be shriveling in fear of me, but it's still solely focused on the next time someone's gonna drain it."

She stepped forward. Instinctively, Drew bowed his head and shrank, a silent plea for mercy. What he got instead was a stiff finger to the sternum that tangled his feet in his jeans and knocked him on his rear. Lady Sparrow placed a foot on his chest and pinned him to the floor.

"Do you have any idea how good you have it? Another mistress would've put you in chastity for that bullshit. She might even introduce you to a little CBT. You know what CBT is?"

He didn't know. Carly didn't know either. Neither of them asked.

She pressed on, "you have no idea how horrible your pathetic life could be. I could make you wear dresses and makeup every day. I could tattoo my name across your forehead. I could keep your dick in a mason jar under the sink."

"No! Please no!" he cried, eyes wide with the fear she desired.

"Give me a reason not to!"

"Because I'm sorry! Because I want to be better, please just give me a chance!"

"Why do you deserve a chance?"

"I don't! I don't deserve a chance, but I'm begging you, please Lady Sparrow, please let me redeem myself!"

She held her glare for a moment, contemplating his answers, then she raised her foot. He had sense enough to know he was undeserving of mercy, which pleased her but also annoyed her at the same time. It made it harder for her to hold on to the anger guiding her current exhibition, but being the professional that she was, she readjusted herself and proceeded with her plan of vengeance.

"Last chance begins now. Up on your feet."

Drew clambered up the nearby chair and set himself upright. His head remained slightly bowed; his hands clasped behind his back, and his bare thighs pushed together. Obedience reclaimed his cock and quelled the aggressive swell. Carly noted the grand changes in his demeanor, amazed at what Abby had done to him. Peering into his eyes made it clear that the spirit she had summoned had now completely possessed her plaything. This newer creature bore no similarity to the human being that had so recently tripped into the dining room. It didn't speak, it only responded. It didn't move, only followed. Didn't think, only heard.

"Now, take the rest of your clothes off."

She pinched his earlobe and brought him close to her mouth.

Over his pained whimpers, she added, "make it sexy for us, hun."

And so, Drew found himself trapped in center stage once more. Unsure of what it meant to be sexy, he started to bob his hips up and down to some imaginary song in the background. A giggle from Carly and a smirk from Lady Sparrow encouraged him, and the introduction of his hands into the act came quite naturally. They traveled through his hair, down his shirt, and over his ass and thighs; everywhere they went, the eyes of his audience followed.

Silent delight poured through him when he realized he had the power to captivate. The dramatic way he teased the hem of his shirt before casting it off elicited a chorus of enthralled laughter that urged him to go further. There was nothing sexy about the way he plucked his socks off with his toes, but he recaptured their attention when he dropped to the floor and crawled to Lady Holiday's feet. He sat back on his heels and trailed a finger down his bare chest, then made it disappear behind the waistband of his boxers. The magic trick dropped her jaw, and she watched on in a daze as the finger moved eagerly behind the screen.

He placed his hands on her thighs and began to climb. Again and again, his fingers curled around parts of her body and brought him closer to her face. She felt the purposeful way he showed off his erection, letting it glide up her calf and rest on her thigh as he straddled her. His arms draped lightly around her neck, and the heat of his breath so close to her face beckoned her to leap forward and kiss this irresistible incubus. Their eyes locked, the focus mutual and intense, and Carly opened her legs for him.

"You could have him, if you wanted," The Devil whispered in her ear.

The focus broken, Carly turned to find her roommate crouched beside her, grinning. She then stood and pulled the stripper off by the waistband, dragging him back into center stage. Carly bit her lip as she watched him go.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, my darlings, but it was starting to look like my pet was losing sight of the task at hand," Lady Sparrow explained.

She turned back to Carly and twirled her finger on the clothed head of the boy's cock, amused at the frustration on her face.

"Not that I can blame him for it. I'm just glad to see that you two have taken such a liking to each other."

Once she heard the quiet panting behind her, she turned it into a yelp with a flick to his tip before pushing him aside. She set his chair perpendicular to Carly and took her seat.

"Lay across my lap," Lady Sparrow called.

The time for play was over. Hesitation returned to Drew's movements as he walked forward and bent over her legs. He balanced on shaky toes and glanced up at Carly. His eyes didn't bother to plead; he knew that this was unavoidable. More important than that, it was for his own good.

"One day, I'll give you the ruler, just the way you dreamt about. Until then, you have to crawl before you can walk, and there's nothing I like better than watching you crawl."

The boxers fell to his ankles. The dark magenta nails traced the untrodden flesh of his ass and savored his anticipatory tremble.

"Carly, would you be a dear and keep count for us?" Lady Sparrow asked pleasantly.

Still transfixed on the hopeless creature before her, all she managed was an affirmative nod. She held her breath in solidarity with the doomed boy, knuckles whitening in the eerie stillness that reminded her of the vacancy of sound that horror movies employ right before the loud crash of a jump scare.

And then, the loud crash fell upon him. No amount of fantasizing about spankings could prepare Drew for the way that reality would burn and boil on his backside. The imaginary ruler had been kind to him in retrospect; with one swift and determined hand, Lady Sparrow had left a lasting imprint on the skin, nerves, and mind of her troublesome slave.

In a soft voice, someone far away announced, "one."

For the next time, Lady Sparrow gave her attention to the left cheek, closer to her. Her palm bounced against the fresh canvas to scrawl a message in red. Her pet wailed, pain radiating from both sides of his ass now. It took a forearm pressed down on his spine to keep him from jittering off of his owner's lap; she could've told him to lay still, but something about the futile way he squirmed under her arm excited her.

Again, Carly announced, "two."

Returning to the right cheek, Lady Sparrow made certain to line up her hand within its original print. She wanted the agony to concentrate in a single spot, her wrath narrowing like sunlight through a magnifying glass. The sharp gasp at contact tapered off into strained breathing as the sensation simmered. His hands opened and closed around nothing.

Quietly, "three."

She replicated her precision on the other side, then grabbed a handful of his ass to dig her palm into the wound. Carly gaped at the morbid duet of the boy's anguished cries and her best friend's gleeful laughter. Lady Sparrow cupped her other hand over the boy's mouth and smacked him twice more on the right cheek. The feeling of choking him on own his pathetic pleas turned the laughter maniacal.

"Isn't it fun to be disobedient?! Isn't it fun when you piss me off?!" she thundered.

Drew tried in vain to spit out a coherent response - another desperate grasp for a shred of her mercy. The unintelligible mush that oozed out between Lady Sparrow's fingers made Carly's heart weep for him, but she couldn't do a thing to save him.

All she could do was tell him, "that's six."

Lady Sparrow released her hold on his mouth and permitted his head to drop. She wiped the spittle on his back, heaving and descending with rapid breath, and tapped her fingers on the Martian surface of his backside. Even the light press of her pads registered a biblical pain for the beaten boy, though he was too weak to acknowledge it with anything besides a quiver and whimper.

"How do you feel, pet?" Lady Sparrow whispered.

In a weary voice he told her, "my butt hurts."

"I know, baby, I know."

She stroked his nape lovingly, and the rapid breaths calmed into a gentle purr.

"This is what happens to bad little whores, you see that, right? You know that you got what you deserved."

"Yes Lady Sparrow, I was very bad but I'm not gonna be bad again," he said, hardly able to rise above a murmur.

"Of course not, dear. You took your punishment so well, I'm very proud of you."

Now his nape received a kiss. For a moment, the searing agony of his butt fell away, succumbing to a rush of opioid relief.

Then she told him, "I'm going to give you one more. You're gonna take it and thank me for it. Is that understood?"

The agony returned. Drew's ass couldn't bear the touch of her smallest fingertip, much less the brutal meteor strike of her splayed palm. Lady Sparrow felt his body tense, counted the seconds of his hesitation and wondered whether the stubborn bitch would accept this mercy or force her hand even further.

"Please Lady Sparrow, give me as many as I deserve."

Perhaps a lesson had been learned after all. His mistress smiled down at him, then raised it up to Carly. The curious wonder had drained from her face, leaving her with what could only be described as reluctant fascination. Although she ached to reach out and console the suffering boy, the power of her roommate's presence kept her pinned to her seat. Abby's tantalizing descriptions of her sexual persona had not been adequate preparation for the vicious, effectual way she handled her plaything.

Carly watched the hand rise. She followed its plunge back to Earth and gritted her teeth against the horrible cacophony of flesh on flesh, of blood-curdling outcries, of toes stomping into the hardwood floor. Lady Sparrow gave out a sigh and kissed her pet once more.

Somehow, he mumbled, "thank you, Lady Sparrow."

Her expectant eyes flashed upward to Carly.

"Seven," she replied.

Lady Sparrow gave a slight nod and lifted Drew off of her lap by his shoulder. She rose from the chair and guided him across the floor to rest at Carly's feet once more. There he knelt, ass hovering above his heels, petrified of the pain of sitting down. He was still trembling, and Carly's hand flexed as if yearning to reach out to him.

"Do you want her to touch you, pet?" Lady Sparrow asked.

He nodded, and Carly leaned down to caress his face. In her palm, the quivering slowed and a small smile began to bloom.