Club Fatale, Pt. 9 by nightscribe

The private jet slowed and gradually pulled to a stop.

The whine of the twin engines swiftly dissipated. The door popped open and the Commodore emerged; he swiftly hobbled down the stairs. He greeted Emmanuelle first: a big hug. Then a handshake for Mr. Lloyd. And, finally one for myself.

“How are you, boy?” he asked. “So good of you to greet me!”

“Well, I appeared as requested. How was your business off-island, Commodore?”

“Oh, like business is, Evan,” he said, with a broad smile. “Bland and boring. It’s good to be back. Yes.” He took another look at me, and catching my mood, said: “I can sense something weighing heavily upon your mind, can’t I?”

“Kensington,” was my reply.

“You heard,” he said, softly. “A real tragedy. He was a good friend. One of my oldest; in fact, he was one of the founding members of the Club.”

“And quite wealthy,” I added.

He gave me a strange look, then, but shifted topics deftly.

“It’s fortuitous that you should be here, young man!”

“Any why is that, sir?”

The Commodore gestured as a woman appeared. Tall and brown-haired, in her early twenties, I estimated. She was trim in all the right places, but also with a distinct strength and vitality about her. The buoyant, barely contained breasts that stood out above washboard abs might very well have been the most perfect I had ever seen. The gorgeous creature sported a blue collar about her neck with a silver tag that bore a number: 47.

My number.

He gestured again and the young woman stepped down from the ramp and up to me, moving with athletic ease.

“I keep my promises, young man,” he said. “Charlie, this is Evan. He’s the one I told you about. Evan, Charlie. She is, quite possibly, the finest femme meat the Club Fatale has ever produced.”

“Hello,” the girl said and favored me with a hot look. “So handsome…”

“I told you he was, my dear,” the Commodore said to her.

I smiled as I drank in her exceptional lines. Her legs were long and luscious — she came nearly to eye-level with me.

“A fine specimen, sir. Definitely worthy of the title: Queen.” I took her hand and kissed it.

“Isn’t she just, Mr. Anderson?”

I watched as Mr. Lloyd helped a second woman down the stairs. Shorter and more slender than Charlie, she was bound, her features and body concealed by latex. She moved slowly, blindly. All that was visible was a mane of silky black hair. I threw a questioning look at the Commodore.

“For your final test,” the Commodore told me, seriously for once. “I have decided that it will be tomorrow.”

I stared at the girl, wondering, for a long moment. She seemed a bit smaller in the chest than I preferred, but her slender legs and unmistakable youthful air made my cock twitch in anticipation.

“How exciting,” Charlie said, “and mysterious.”

—

The lonesome stretch of beach was bathed in darkness under a moonless sky, making it nearly impossible to see anything.

I felt rather than heard the sound of feet approaching in the sand.

“I’m glad that you showed, Evan.” It was a soft, but recognizable, voice.

“Donna,” I said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

The nearly invisible brunette moved to stand beside me. Her presence, her silence, I found suddenly alluring. I wanted nothing more than to take her — to violate her right there. “Sometimes, I come out here for nightswimming. Just myself and the waves. It’s dangerous out there in the darkness, just as it’s dangerous where you are, Evan.”

“What danger are you referring to?”

“The kind that arrives in beautiful packages. The kind that you don’t pick up on until it’s too late…”

I was silent.

“Do you understand, Evan?”

“Not quite. I don’t understand why.”

“You showed me mercy where none was shown before, Evan. It made me feel… well, it was more than I could have hoped for. I don’t expect you to understand what that means to me. I only want to return the favor. That’s all.”

Donna kissed my chest, warm lips against my cool skin. I felt her brush against me, and realized then that she was nude. I felt her hot breath upon me, felt it drift down my chest, as she knelt in the sand — felt it heat my cock as her lips engulfed my hard shaft.

My mouth fell open.

“Fuck,” I groaned as she slid up and down, taking an additional inch of me with every stroke until I was all the way inside. She pulled up, lips on the very tip of my cock, and ran her tongue in swirling strokes over the head.

I couldn’t see her, but I felt every move she made.

Back down upon me, she took me in deep, owning me in her feminine but very controlling manner. A long minute passed, as her tongue, mouth and throat worked around me. And then she pulled back, aspirating upon me — a hot breath flecked with saliva.

Reaching down, I gripped her hair and pulled her head back.

My cock slapped upon her chin and I rubbed the head over her lips. I thrust forward as I pushed her down, taking her throat completely. I shafted her aggressively for long minutes, thrusting and holding, thrusting and holding, then thrusting some more, until finally I erupted in her mouth. I pulled out and heard her gasp and pant around my semen.

Overbearing her, I forced her into the sand and lay atop her slim body.

“His spies are everywhere…” she whispered.

“Would you choose me over him?” I asked, softly.

She hesitated, drawling in a sharp breath. I could hear the fear in her voice as she panted. “I don’t want… I can’t make that decision, Evan,” she said. “Please, don’t…”

“Would you choose me?” I demanded.

There was silence for a time, until: “Yes.”

I ran my hands down the sides of her face, kissed her lips. I kissed deeply, dueling with her tongue, long and passionate. Then I moved inside of her and for a long time brought cries of passion to her lips.

Chapter Nineteen – Spy Snuffing

Charlie cried out as I thrust deeply inside her and emptied myself.

“Oh, god!” she said as she came down. “Oh, fucking god! Oh, fuck, you’re unbelievable, sir! Oh, yes… fuck yes…”

I rolled off of her and she turned onto her side — laid one fabulous leg over mine. Her perfect breasts heaved after our exertion. Smiling, she played with my chest hairs as she slid the leg up and down my body. Up and down. Up and down.

Her eyes penetrated mine.

“Umm, nice…” she cooed. Up and down her leg moved.

She waited until my hand rested on her leg, then: “God, I’m thirsty!” she said. “Are you?”

“Mmm,” I murmured.

She leaned over and kissed my lips. “Stay here. I’ll get us something, baby.” She stood, paused for a moment — silhouetted in the door — then left.

I stared at the dim light on the ceiling, then —

Silently, I followed her into the kitchen and watched as she prepared two drinks. She removed a vial from behind the wine rack and opened it. She dropped a few drops into the glass and then stoppered the vial.

“A masterful role,” I said, from behind her, “I must admit.”

Charlie jumped and spun. “Oh, god, Evan! You startled me!” She tried to hide it behind her back, but I reached down and tore the vial from her grasp.

“Suspicion is a unique ally,” I said. “It makes one see clearly what would otherwise be hidden.”

I tensed and Charlie spun, reaching for a carving knife. I grasped her by the hair and wrist, slammed her into the counter and fell to the floor on top of her. Twisting the knife from her tight grip, I punched her in the face: a stunning blow. I then reversed the knife and thrust it into her side.

Charlie howled, penetrated by my blade.

Wrenching it out, I hurled it across the kitchen in a spray of blood.

Charlie cried out: “Oh, god! God, please! I’m sorry, Evan! Please, let me explain?” Writhing upon the floor in agony, she pleaded for her life.

“That’s right,” I said. “I am your fucking god! But begging won’t help you, bitch.”

I slapped her, snapping her head back. Gripping her hair, I pulled it back further. I punched her in the throat.

Charlie gagged and gasped for air.

Snatching a towel from the counter, I twisted and wrapped it about her neck. Tangling the ends about each other, I cut off her breathing. Looking up at me, her eyes showed desperation at her predicament, and horror at her presumed fate. I felt her nails bite as she tore desperately at my arms and neck, but I held tight as she slowly weakened and finally passed out.

She was limp against me and I realized that I was hard again.

Pulling up her empurpled face by the neck and holding her head against the cabinets, I thrust my cock between her lips, all the way back into her throat. Gasping in pleasure, I thrust in deeper. Releasing the towel, I held Charlie up by her delicious brown hair and fucked her face with wild, passionate rage. At the squishy sounds her head made, the soft gasps that escaped from between her lips, I grew harder than I had been all night. Looking down at Charlie, I watched her unconscious head take my cock in all the way. The feel of an unconscious head and throat brought me to the brink. Grunting, I came inside her.

I held her for a several minutes.

Pulling out, I looked at her — turned her head this way and that. It was time for some serious fun, I thought.

Hefting her into my arms, I headed to the bathroom.

From the balcony above, Devon watched me like a silent sentinel. I paused for a moment to stare up at her. As always, she was nude, proud breasts bared to the world.

“You’re loyal to me, aren’t you, Devon?” I said, after a moment.

She looked at me, resigned but earnest. “Yes, master, I am… to the death…”

I pointed. “Retrieve the knife, my love.”

As she moved to comply, I carried Charlie to the bathroom.

Searching through the medicine cabinet, I found some first aid tape and bound Charlie’s wrists and ankles with it. I shoved a wad of medical gauze into her mouth and wrapped the tape around her head a dozen times.

Then I ran the water in the bathtub.

Devon entered; stepped up beside me. She set the bloody knife on the counter.

“You will do everything I order you to, won’t you, Devon?” I asked, and stared at her hard.

“Yes,” she said, almost too low to hear.

I reached down and pulled Charlie up by her long brown hair. I tossed her into the tub.

Immediately, she roused, shook her head to clear it and winced in pain at her side. Her eyes blinked and focused on me.

I picked up the knife. “You tried to murder me at the Commodore’s behest.”

She shook her head, vigorously, back and forth, making protesting sounds deep in her pretty throat.

I looked to Devon, standing stock still. “I told you once what the penalty would be for spying upon me, didn’t I, Devon?”

Devon was speechless, heart thumping, face white as a ghost.

“Tell her,” I ordered.

“Fuck my eyes…” Devon managed, voice cracking.

“What was that, my sweet?”

Devon licked her lips, suddenly short of breath, and panted: “You said you’d cut out my eyes and fuck my brains through my skull...”

The girl went as white as Devon, head shaking back and forth in disbelief.

“Get in, Devon,” I said. “Get behind her and hold her.”

The older brunette looked like she was going to pass out, but, to my surprise, did as ordered without complaint.

I stepped into the tub as well, gripped Charlie’s head firmly and started. There was a mighty struggle, a full-throated scream muffled by the improvised gag, and then I held a wet sphere in my hand.

I dropped it into the water behind me. PLOP.

My cock hardened as I went back for the second. I braced myself against the struggle. It came out just as easily.

I rubbed the bloody orb up and down my cock, wetting myself in preparation for the coming intrusion, smearing bright blood over my already engorged manhood.

I dropped it over my shoulder to join its twin.

PLOP.

My blood raged and hissed, pounding through my veins. My cock was a piece of iron, I was so aroused. I shivered. “Now, hold her, my sweet,” I whispered to Devon, as I thrust inside Charlie.

I was close to Devon, staring into her horrified eyes. I squeezed her tits as I fucked. Kissed her mouth. Whispered into her face — into her soul. We shared breaths as I went about my pleasure.

“Hold her…” I breathed, aroused beyond anything in my life. “Hold her… oh, fuck… yes… hold her tight… oh, fuck, I’m inside… oh, fuck… you simply can’t believe how she feels… I’ve never been so tight… I’ve never been so deep… I’ve never been in there… oh, god… she moves… oh, god, how she moves…”

Charlie writhed against my penetration. She gasped hard, raggedly, far too out of breath to be able to scream from the pain. And through it all, Devon floated before my vision. She was so sweet, to hold Charlie steady for me like that. She was such a lady to understand my desires the way she did.

No, she didn’t just understand them. She shared them. I couldn’t help but imagine her in Charlie’s place. Were she, I knew, she would do her best to pleasure me. My dear and sweet Devon would never be such a fucking bitch about it.

I pulled out — slid into the next socket.

“Fuck yes…” I said as I went in deep. There was no movement this time — just the warm, unbelievable tightness.

“Push…” I grunted to Devon. “Push… Give her to me… Fuck her brains onto me…!”

Devon did as she was told, blinking away tears. In the coming years, I would remember it as the last time she ever cried.

Together, we took Charlie between us. Devon pushed hard — slid and twisted — ground Charlie upon me, sending waves of pleasure rocketing through me. We stared at each other in lust, and I cried out — and came hard.

For a long moment after, all I could see were Devon’s beautiful eyes and the last soft tear rolling away.

I reached down and grabbed the hair, took the head from Devon and dropped the expended girl. I stepped out and extended my hand. Devon took it and I helped her out of the tub. She stood before me — a slim goddess — a ravishing lady of beauty, refinement and taste. I had never before seen her like.

“Kneel, slave,” I ordered, harshly, “and suck my cock clean.”

Without complaint, she complied, and for several long minutes I watched as her beautiful eyes and bloody mouth caressed me.

And when she was finished, every spot of blood, every streak of come, every fleck of brains on my cock went into Devon’s mouth and down her throat.

When I was cleaned she gave voice to throaty words:

“Please… how shall I please you now, master?”

I held fast to her black tresses, brushed the head of my cock upon her red lips. “Ready her for disposal. I’ll return soon.”

—

Silently, I entered the darkened chamber, watched as my prey turned out the lights, extinguishing all illumination but the candles scattered about the room.

The raven-haired woman was dressed in her best black corset and fishnets, spiked high-heels and choker necklace. Her heels clicked on the floor. Her breasts jiggled and the silver choker looked very inviting around her slender neck.

I stalked her slowly, coming up behind her silently and seizing her.

I threw Angelique to the table, pulled her hands behind her and secured them with plastic flexcuffs. She struggled, but I held her.

Her eyes swiveled up to mine.

“Evan,” she breathed.

“Angelique,” I said.

“You startled me,” she continued, “If you want to play games I can always find someone to entertain us.”

“Oh, there’s no need for that, my sweet. Soon you’ll have all the entertainment you can stand.”

There was a sudden look in her eyes, one I had never seen before. Fear.

“You’ve been naughty, my Angel.”

“I’ve done nothing wrong, Evan,” she protested.

I pressed against her. I rubbed her face. “We both know the truth, my tutor. Don’t worry. I’ll give you every honor that you deserve.”

I pulled her up to face me.

“Please, Evan. We share a connection. We have a bond, I know it. I know what you feel for me, baby. I can see it. I can feel it in me when you take me. You love me and I adore you. I want you, more than anything.”

She was close, so close, to me.

I hesitated. Could I do it, with the feelings that I had developed for her? Could I end her, after all that we had shared?

“In that case…” I said.

“One more screw, my dear!” My hand went to Angelique’s hair and I slammed her backwards onto the table, cracking her skull against the hard wood. I tore her panties from her, ripped her corset away. Unzipping my pants, I thrust into her: rammed her pussy with my hard, vengeful cock. Driving deep, I fucked her hard and fast. I knew that this would be the last time we had together.

My eyes closed and I luxuriated in the feel of her magnificent body. I pounded in and out of her, struggling to experience her fully and etch the moment indelibly into my memory forever.

Suddenly, I was on the verge. I pulled out.

She would have my last come, but she would have it more intimately.

I pulled Angelique to her feet before me. I held her with a hand upon her throat. I picked up a knife — the blade that she had taught me to master. I held it firmly in my hand, not tight or loose, just firm…

I felt the savage thrill of life and death: the power in my hand, the anticipation raging through me.

“Please, my love,” Angelique said, painting, breathless. “Don’t let it be you! It’s not right! Don’t do it!”

I steeled myself against what I was about to do. My feelings were conflicted and I realized that to do what I wanted, I had to hate her and love her at the same time.

I thrust in, hard. My blade went deep and Angelique gasped and looked down. The knife was embedded in her, below the breast, straight between two ribs. Rather than the heart, it had pierced Angelique’s left lung.

My brunette lover opened her mouth to speak and blood dripped from her lips.

“You… missed…” she gasped.

“No, my love,” I said calmly. “I didn’t… It was you who taught me that the kill must be savored…”

I touched her face, kissed the lips that trickled blood. I pushed her to her knees.

“Now, Angelique, suck my cock with your dying breaths!” And I forced my cock past her lips and down her throat.

I throatfucked her long and hard. I held her upon me for long moments as she gasped and coughed. I counted to thirty. When I pulled back there was blood and saliva on my cock. I watched as Angelique coughed up a mouthful. I moved her mouth to my cock. She spit weakly and her blood ran over my cock in rivulets.

“Please…” she gasped weakly.

I grabbed her hair, pulled her head back. I twisted the knife in her chest, just a bit, just enough for a scream. It felt so fine, like my cock inside her.

“The dying mistress pleads!” I taunted her. “What is it that the mistress of death wishes?”

“Please,” she gasped, searching for the words or the breath. “Please, use me for your pleasure, master…”

I smiled. Indeed she would die with honor.

I placed Angelique’s head upon my cock again and facefucked her. Her mouth was a squishy mass of blood and saliva and I luxuriated in it. For long minutes, I skullfucked her and watched her grow weaker as the blood poured from her body. Finally, I pulled her off me again and looked at her bloodied face.

“Do you love me, Evan?” she asked in a weak voice. Her face was ashen and she had but moments left. “Would you grant me a last request?”

I was touched. I held her bloodied face close to my cock. “Anything, my love. Name it and I will see it done.”

I rubbed myself across her chin and jaw.

She whispered, weakly, and I leaned forward to catch her last words. They were but a gasp, pitched low.

I blinked away tears as Angelique looked at me, pleading with her eyes.

Just what did I feel for her? I couldn’t say.

“I promise, my love…” I said. “You will have your pyre.”

I adjusted my grip in her hair, pulled at her head roughly. I thrust my cock forward and penetrated her mouth one last time, all the way down into the depths of what was her. I felt her lips tighten around me, her teeth scraping my cock. I cried out and came in her dying throat. I grabbed the hilt of the knife and twisted. Her lips tightened on me, again, as she tried to scream. No sound came out, just a shutter and a horrible gagging on my semen. I twisted again. Again, I felt that erotic shutter. This time a short gasp seeped out between her lips and my cock. It was a sad sound, almost a whimper. I twisted a third time and there was no response. She was limp on my cock — blood poured out between her lips.

Blood mixed with my semen.

I pulled Angelique’s corpse off of me. Her face was pale and white, covered in her crimson blood. I slid the knife out from between her ribs and held her up by the hair. I sawed at her mane, sliced off her black ponytail. I let her fall to the ground like a broken doll. I knelt overtop her. The knife went into Angelique’s breast and I cut deep. I sawed at flesh and bone until I held her heart in my hand.

I looked down at my prizes. The hair I would keep as a memento.

The heart, I would consume.

The rest of her would disappear into the waves, along with Charlie’s remains. I would weigh the corpses and cast them into the bay on the far side of the island, where no one would find them in time.

By then, my plans would be complete.

Chapter Twenty – Full Circle

The Testing Chamber was filled with Clubmen and Femmes. The Commodore and Emmanuelle where there, seated near the stage, and many others: Jacob Nelson, Cooper Ellington, Mr. Lloyd and so on.

But not my friend, Adrian Kensington.

I glared at the Commodore as he approached.

“Welcome, my boy,” the Commodore greeted me. “And how was Charlie? Did she treat you well last night?”

He seemed none too pleased to see me. I couldn’t imagine why.

“She was… wonderful… Commodore,” I said. “What we shared together was truly a first for us both.”

“Well… good… good, then,” he said.

I held his eyes for a moment.

“Strange that Angelique isn’t present,” he continued, seeming a bit flustered. “She isn’t to be found anywhere.”

“I’m sure she’ll show up, sir.”

“Indeed…” he mused. “Are we ready to get this show on the road, then?”

I took a deep breath. Nodded.

He gestured and I mounted the stage. Gallows and guillotine were uncovered, as well as the table of torture implements.

The Commodore called for silence.

“Friends and Clubmen, we are gathered here today to test our would-be brother, Evan Anderson, in the methods and temperament of the Club Fatale, in preparation for his entrance and full membership into our most illustrious brotherhood. To gain this honor he must be bound to us in blood, he must show no mercy, no hesitance. He must entertain us all even as he gratifies himself. He must honor us with the final moments of a chosen woman. If he does not, then he can never be one of us…”

There was the sharp hint of danger in his voice.

At his gesture, a woman was brought out. The same woman that arrived with the Commodore yesterday, I assumed, though I couldn’t be sure, as her features were concealed by the latex hood and bodysuit.

I watched as she was shackled to the restraining pole.

“Evan,” the Commodore said, “you must satisfy us all. You must give this woman to us. You must not stay your hand. To comply is to gain the acceptance of the brotherhood. To fail is to gain only our enmity.”

And he sat, leaving the stage to me.

I turned to the woman. Slowly, I started towards her. I walked past her, touching her once on the ass.

She jumped and fidgeted.

Soft as silk, I thought.

This woman was untrained by the club. Fresh meet.

I surveyed the implements on the table. All were equally appropriate for the moment. Finally, I selected the knife and the whip.

I returned to the woman. Slowly, my hand caressed her neck and she tensed. Her blue eyes were wide with anticipation. Her body quivered at my touch. She was for me. All for me. That was her sole purpose in life. That was why she had been created.

My finger slid between the latex and her skin and I pressed the knife in, sliced…

The body suit parted down the middle — revealing creamy, untouched flesh beneath. I peeled it from her slender form. Her flesh was warm and resilient. She was youthful, whoever she was — probably not much more than a girl.

Excellent. The thrill of the kill was even more intense when the prey was inexperienced or even underage. How wonderful it would be to take everything away from this girl. She probably hadn’t ever been with a man before.

I would be her first.

I thrust the knife into the wooden pole — leaving it quivering like my victim.

Flipping the whip through a figure eight, I struck — slicing into the small of her back, just above the buttocks. She stood on her tip-toes and screamed through the gag — a muffled, high-pitched sound, glorious to my ears.

Again and again I struck, drawing welt after welt across the tender flesh of the girl’s back and shoulders. I put every ounce of the skill that Angelique had taught me into it. The girl responded like a fine instrument, giving voice to a rising song of pain in which I heard love, lust and adoration.

Yes. She adored me. I was her master, her whole world. Her dominator and slayer.

I continued, striking at buttock, calf and thigh in rapid succession. First one leg, then the next. My strikes grew random, leaving the girl no way to anticipate the location of the next lash. On and on, I struck, until the girl grew horse from screaming and her head and body hung in her bonds — and her back oozed blood from every pore.

Quick glances told me that my show was well-received.

Several Clubmen were jacking off or being serviced by Femmes. Emmanuelle’s head was in the Commodore’s lap — lips locked about his hard cock — while he pushed her down violently, raping her throat.

It was time for a break. For me, anyway. The girl’s torment would only end in death.

I returned the whip to its place and took up the cord garrote.

I touched the girl on the shoulder, eliciting a cry of pain.

I twisted the garrote about her neck and slowly tightened it as I entered her. She was as tight as I had ever felt in a woman. And warm. She gripped my cock as I probed her. Then, suddenly, I popped her virgin cherry — eliciting a second cry. It was almost enough to make me come, but I paused and regained my control.

I started pumping, fucking the newly-minted woman in truth. Her flesh sucked me in, trying to milk me. I ravaged her with long strokes. Every dozen or so, I would give the garrote a twist, feeding my passion through her own agony. In no time the girl was bucking against me, gasping hard in an attempt take in life-giving breaths. I knew that I should release the twist, but the tighter her neck grew the tighter her cunt became. I found myself taking her just one twist more — and just one more — and one more…

And so on, until her face was empurpled. I took her right to the edge of unconsciousness, holding her for nearly a minute — cock extended inside her — rope wound tight — free hand fondling perky tits and tweaking erect nipples.

Suddenly, she gave an agonized cough and thrashed with the last of her strength. I could feel it. She was right there — on the edge of death.

I whispered into her ear. “You’re a true snuff slut, aren’t you cunt?” I ventured. “You know your life ends today and you can’t wait for it to happen, can you? You’ve dreamed of this for your whole life, eh? You’ve wanted it? You’ve prayed for it?”

“Well, let’s get on with it…”

“Remove her hood and gag, Evan,” the Commodore said. I could see that his cock was wet, though still erect — and Emmanuelle was licking her lips.

I turned back to the girl and did as I was told.

“Daddy…! Oh, god, please, daddy…!”

Jacqueline was a vision as she stood there in her sweat-slicked nudity, her tousled black mane dripping almost to her waist. Slender legs and firm thighs, trim waist and swelling breasts. Her welted body called to me and I stared admiringly at the blood dripping from her shoulders and back.

As I stared into my daughter’s eyes, I felt my heart twist in my chest. So, the day was finally here. The day that I had dreamed about — and had nightmares about — all my life. The path I had embarked upon had led me to this day, to this very moment when everything would change… forever.

Full circle.

My hand found my daughter’s face and I softly wiped away her tears.

“You understand, now, don’t you, baby?” I asked. “You know what I need from you? Don’t you? I always told you that you had a purpose, didn’t I? From the time you were little, remember? What did I tell you?”

Jacqueline sniffled.

“You said… that I lived for you…”

“And you know what that means, now, don’t you, baby?”

She bit her lip, nodded.

I smiled at Jacqueline, my heart soaring. My lips met hers and we shared a passionate, incestuous kiss filled with wanting and heartbreak. She kissed me desperately, with a passion I couldn’t have imagined.

She pulled back for a bare moment, enough to gasp: “You can’t imagine how much I wanted you, daddy… every day…”

Our lips met again and I lost myself inside her. Everything else just ceased to exist. There was only myself and my daughter — my sweet baby.

And then, there was only me.

I pulled the knife from the pole and cut her free — but left her hands tied. Jacqueline cried softly in my arms as I led her to the guillotine. I pushed her softly against the bascule and pivoted her down into place. I slid her forward through the riser and locked the lunette into place — about her slender neck.

I moved across from her, my cock close to her face.

My fingers touched the trigger, but I removed them after a moment.

“Put your lips on me, baby.”

Slowly, reluctantly, my daughter’s lips pressed over the head of my cock.

“Take me deep, baby,” I ordered. “Show me what you know of pleasuring a man.”

Jacqueline engulfed me with her mouth and struggled to go deep. I aided her — thrusting forward into her deepest recesses — and found myself balls deep in her mouth and throat: my little baby’s throat. I rocked back and forth, gaining speed, until I was going all out, skullfucking my daughter on the bascule of a fucking guillotine! I pressed forward, grinding hard, and trapped her head between my hips and the lunette, holding her there tight, restrained… dominated. She coughed and spit bubbled out around my cock, dribbled from her lips to stain the stage where her lifeblood would soon follow.

I closed my eyes, luxuriating in the feel of my daughter’s raped throat tight around my manhood.

I pulled back — then thrust forward violently, taking her with a swift stroke, feeling her retch and struggle. Another, and another, I gave her. My gaze went to the watchers as I gave my own daughter a skullfucking for the ages.

Emmanuelle was mounted on the Commodore’s cock, bouncing high with each stroke. But her eyes — those eyes that held such an emotional and passionate look of sympathy — were for me, alone.

I gave her a dark smile and watched as she shuttered.

It was time, I knew — the moment.

I pulled back from Jacqueline’s throat but left the head pressed to her lips, smearing saliva across her face.

Her eyes lifted to me, to watch her father’s pronouncement.

I coiled her hair in one hand, held behind her head.

“I want you to know, sweet Jacqueline,” I said, “that I always loved you, so very much. You were my little princess, but this is how it has to be… this is how it’s supposed to be. You were always meant for me. I’ll never forget you and the pleasure you’ve given me… even now, baby… even now…”

And I threw the trigger.

I heard the mighty SWISH of the blade as the sledge descended, felt the CRUNCH through my cock — and the head came free in my hand.

Blood sprayed onto my legs and I stepped back, thrusting Jacqueline down upon me with both hands — all the way — until the head of my cock emerged from the stump of her neck. I cried out and came, spewing semen through Jacqueline’s neck — to shower on the stage before everyone.

As I did, blood spewed from her body and pooled at my feet.

I pulled out and turned the head up to me — slapped my cock upon Jacqueline’s face.

“Lick it, girl,” I said. “Pleasure me with your very last moments…”

Jacqueline blinked and her tongue moved on the undercarriage of my cock, struggling to obey my final command.

I sighed in deep ecstasy. The last bit of my come oozed out onto her face, just beneath her right eye as the very last glimmer of life went out of her and she became still.

The audience was as silent as a grave. Only my desperate breathing could be heard.

The Commodore sat astonished, as flabbergasted as the other onlookers. After a few long moments, he stood and began clapping.

He spoke softly at first, but gradually gained in intensity.

“My god, now I think that I have seen it all! How does a man get off so deeply at his own daughter’s demise? I didn’t think that you had it in you, Evan. Really, I didn’t. Who else but I would be capable of such a thing? None of these men has ever been asked to do what you did: to give so much. Others thought that I was crazy to demand it, but I was hopeful that you would prevail, Evan.”

I simply looked at him. Memories of my sweet daughter flashed through my head. I looked down at her in my hands. Her lips rested against the head of my cock.

“Now that it has been done,” the Commodore said, reluctantly, “I am proud to announce that Evan Anderson is a full and lasting member of this Club Fatale, with all the rights and privileges therein…”

He looked at me, and then quickly added:

“And, further, as evidence of my proclamation, I would grant him a boon. Ask for something and I will see it given. Perhaps an advance to Green? Or a pair of Femmes from the commissary, to replace what you have sacrificed?”

I thought for a moment, then shook my head.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t ask for what I desire, Commodore,” I said.

“Rubbish,” the older man said, incensed. “You can have anything that you want! Any woman that you wish! If she is owned, then I will trade with the man who owns her! You will have the woman that you desire to possess, I swear it!”

I nodded. “If you insist, Commodore,” I said, “then I’ll have one from your personal collection: Emmanuelle.”

I saw his face fall.

Emmanuelle gasped and her hands flew to her mouth. Her face, white with horror, suddenly colored as she blushed.

Silence. Every eye was upon the Commodore.

“I see,” he said.

There was a long pause as we studied each other from across the stage.

And then, finally, as a man who had been denied his heart’s desire, he said: “Then we have both lost something we cherish this day. She’s yours, as promised…”

“After all, sacrifice is the ultimate aphrodisiac.”