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I want those drugsyou've been giving your daughter to make her smaller and more girlie andalso the one that changed her DNA to match yours. Make me one to changemy son to look like my little girl"."Agreed", laughed the Queen.Emma got to work running the programme she had reluctantly worked on andthen pressed "GO"Missy screamed and was told to shut up by the Queen which she obeyed.On the big plasma screen the Queen and Emma looked at the images beingbeamed into Missy's mind and subconscious. Gruesome images of torture,and abuse."Missy", spoke the Queen. "Each of these images makes you feel happy. Infact Emma make her feel even more horny than she does right now".Emma pressed a few buttons and quite visibly more precum started cummingout of Missy."You can do better, more horny!" exclaimed the Queen. "1 million timesmore"Emma typed some more.Missy began to groan. "Please let me cum mistress!" she exclaimed."Missy", replied the Queen. "I'm never going to let you cum so never askagain. I. And what if I drank too much? What if I lost control again and bit her somewhere else? What if I went for her throat?The idea was unforgivable.And I certainly didn’t want to hurt her and cause her pain for my own benefit.Glancing over at the dead body, I wished that was an option instead, but the blood had already coagulated quite a bit, not to mention no heartbeat meant no blood pressure to push the blood out of the body, even if it was still drinkable.Gabriella looked over too. “Can you drink his blood?” she wondered. “Will that work?”I shook my head, coughing. “No, he’s been dead too long.” I then glanced over at Nick. “Just pull them out. I can try to go track down a deer or something afterward.”Gabriella was skeptical. “But will animal blood even do it? Kai, look at me.” She waited until I did. “Do you know for a fact that animal blood will help you heal?”When I didn’t have an answer, she held her forearm up to my mouth again, pressing her skin against my lips. Except, this time.
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As she approached, he rose to meet her, a gentleman’s gesture, and it was apparent they were each one half of an ancient union, with the easy familiarity that decades of living together instills. My book of Bukowski rants was reduced to being a simple prop, behind which I hid as I observed this slice of marital life unfold before me. She started talking before she was even seated, with a theatrical boom and swell to her voice that seemed To echo off the trees and sidewalks of Central Park. She had a truly thick New Yorker accent, her lineage was possibly middle European, I guessed, but there was no doubt English was her second language. He took her hand and assisted her in sitting next to him, while she intoned uninterrupted on the dirtiness of the subway, the perverts who inhabited their neighborhood, the gossiping neighbors, the gossiping relatives, the intransigence of their rabbi, the injustices of the modern world and the frustrations of old age. A particularly striking redhead.

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