Bad Medicine Chronicles Ch. 04

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.

***

“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 poker oyna 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.”

Her befuddled expression shifted.

With lustful eyes, she canlı poker oyna shuffled closer.

With concern, he impulsively stepped back, and his grin faded.

Still maintaining that passionate glare, Opal exclaimed, “Do I look fine and dandy to you? The bitch drugged me with that freakish sex drug! She then sent me on a wild goose chase. You call these people allies?”

Stepping closer, she proceeded to pop the top button of her blouse.

“Opal—stop…” he stuttered.

She pressed him back against the wall.

Now distressed, he said, “Snap out of it. This isn’t you, it’s that damn concoction.”

Looking directly into his blue eyes, she breathlessly muttered, “Maybe—maybe not.” She then sniffed his shirt and shivered.

Vincent heatedly whispered out to no one in particular, “That manipulating woman. I’m your test.”

Hearing his words, she pulled back from him. “Test? I’m not a teeny bopper with a daddy crush. Yes, it fucken makes me horny. I’m emotional and it hurts. It doesn’t make me stupid.”

Relieved that she had distanced herself and was speaking normally, he smiled once again and then reached out to grapple her in a hug. “I was worried. Seems you’re immune after all.”

Suddenly, she maneuvered her arms between them and flicked him hard against the wall.

As he gasped for breath, she grasped his hair and tilted his head down.

Immediately following, she raised up on her tiptoes and immobilized him with a passionate kiss.

Although Vincent could have easily broken her clasp, he was dazed by her fervor and reluctantly reciprocated with a wagging tongue.

She broke the smooch and then frantically worked the buckle on his trousers.

He said, “Opal, stop. The drug’s influencing you to do this. I’m old enough to be your father.”

Her hand froze on the clasp.

Furrowing her brow while angling her head to look at him, she loudly said, “You’re not dense. This isn’t the fucken drug. This is the real me. This is your test, not mine. You’ve failed miserably.”

“You’re confused. I can see that,” he said.

“I’m not your fucken daughter. I’ve always desired you. You made that my weakness, you bastard. I’m a grown woman with needs as any other!”

Vincent gulped.

After unclasping his belt, she leaned in and grasped the zipper. With a snort, she jerked it downward and then said, “Are you awake now?”

Immediately following, she thrust his trousers along with his underwear down to his knees.

She goggled his displayed member and then panted.

He stood frigid and indecisive.

Widening her eyes, she said, “I can’t be hallucinating. That’s a fucken huge cock. I find it funny that you keep saying you’re an old fuck like a father, but you’re already rock-hard for your daughter. You’ve fooled yourself. There’s no doubt, you want to fuck me.”

Tilting her head up, she then hesitantly questioned, “I’m not imagining it—am I?”

His mouth crimped tight from nervousness. He silently answered with an awkward twist of his head and his eyes fixed on a wall.

She gave him a mischievous smile and then said, “That’s pretty much the response I expected. All this time, I bet you’ve had a hardon for me. What held you back?”

“I raised you. I see you as a—” he replied before she abruptly thrust his hips backward and drove his rump hard against the wall.

She said, “Bullshit, same broken record. There’s a reason you’ve avoided touching me intimately. You fear someone. Who and why?”

Following that statement, she kneeled before him.

Vincent exhaled a deep breath and then said, “Opal, no. You don’t have to do this.”

Awed by the tubular spectacle pointed towards her face, she smiled and then glanced up at him. “You still don’t get it. I want to. Stop with that sorrowful look, my passion is legit.”

Returning to ogle the robust shank, she became giddy. She’d never seen a dong with so much mass. It had to be at least eight inches. It was hard, veiny and meaty thick. Its bulbous head was plump and purple.

The gland and hefty balls dangling below it were moist with sweat. The aroma was musky but pleasant and it made her wet.

To Opal, the entire package was an arousing combination.

Whether compelled by natural lust or driven by the drug, she didn’t care. Feeling a craving, she lunged forward to frolic her tongue along its length. Any lustful woman would be duty-bound to pleasure this magnificent phallus.

For the first time, Vincent’s training failed him. He was derailed like a train by her vivacious licking organ. The instant he groaned from pleasure, it became impossible to put it back on the track.

He watched the blonde pixie dive upon his shaft with an open mouth. The instant she looked up at him, his dick twitched and became hardener. Her eyes shined with amusement.

This was the girl he had raised since the age of six. Now a woman at the age of 26, she had his cock in her mouth. If not for the tingling sensations that tempered the queasiness and creepy chills, he would internet casino have become ill.

Unnerved by the memory of her as a little girl, he exclaimed, “Opal, stop. We can’t do this. Richard will kill me.”

She immediately pivoted her eyes up to give him a non-verbal expression that conveyed, you’re fucken kidding me, with a bold exclamation defined by a downward furrowing of her brow.

She followed that dramatic communication by pulling her mouth off his prick.

Still jerking his cock to keep him hard, she glared up at him and angrily said, “Who the fuck is Richard?”

With a name, he’d said too much and stayed mute.

She squeezed his dick tight and then sighed. “Whoever he is, I doubt he’ll murder you for screwing me. Just don’t tell the fucker.”

Vincent replied, “Probably not, but he’ll make an example of me. Damn—okay, it’s time you knew. He’s our boss and your father.”

Although slightly stunned by the disclosure, Opal stood and began removing her clothes.

She exclaimed, “He’s not my fucken daddy. The man’s never been in my life. Don’t know him and frankly, I don’t care to. As you keep reminding me, you raised me. Why wait to tell me?”

Vincent stuttered out a retort that ended abruptly when Opal’s jeans and underwear dropped to the floor. Following that she popped the front of her blouse and ripped the sports bra from her chest.

He’d seen her naked as a child, but never once had an impure thought. Against the intended plan, he had assumed the role of father and viewed the relationship as a parent and teacher. Immoral curiosity often ended with a turn his head. Although awkwardly defined, being a brutal killer didn’t exclude having a moral code.

Frustrated, Opal said, “I’m naked, look at me. I’m not your real daughter. Get that idea out of your head. Didn’t you just tell me so? I’m a grown woman, not a kid.”

Pressed by inevitability, Vincent couldn’t elude temptation. He turned to stare at her curvy form.

Trained in seduction meant to entice her mark, the short haired blonde smiled and flaunted her small stature.

As her body swayed, her hands rose to her perky plump breasts. She tilted her head and raised a boob to lick a hard nipple. The sensation produced from that action was so incredibly pleasurable that she quickly raised the other. Greedily sucking on both with fixation, she moaned from joy like she gobbled something sweet.

That fevered display of self-gratification moved Vincent to impulsively reach for his dick. The instant he felt the tug, he quipped in frustration and moved to slap his leg instead.

Having increased her passion, Opal felt driven to touch herself. Although trained as a method to deceive the mark, it never went that far. This action was meant for actual pleasure and intended to encourage her man to give in to temptation.

She moved slowly to draw his gaze. Once his goggled eyes followed both hands, she proceeded by glide her fingers across her tummy and descend. Driving his stare downward, she dove her hands to prick her cream-colored bush of pubic hair.

In that instant, his mind bubbled with impure thoughts. He became so focused to quash them that his jaw dropped.

She smiled and then rummaged through the grassy mound to part her predominate cleft. Gaping it, she teased him with an exhibition to harden his dick. Taunting him with denial, she swiveled slowly to display her shapely derriere.

Although awed by her sensuous beauty, he said, “I’m a fifty-year-old man. Seriously, you don’t have a problem with this?”

Opal sighed and then heatedly replied, “Ah—I just sucked your damn cock—take off your fucken clothes.”

So close to something erotic, yet he ruined it with a stupid question, she remarked with an intense stare.

She was both amused and infuriated by his reluctance. Why is he fighting it?

Men often shivered or wet themselves with anticipation just before she sliced their throat. Vincent had the same posture and it annoyed her.

“For Christ sake, fucken relax. You’ve made yourself go limp,” she said.

She shook her head while watching him stumble to remove his clothes. “Jesus, you look like a clumsy adolescent having a growth spurt.”

He returned a blank look and then shrugged.

In a tizzy, she scampered forward to help and then pressed up against him.

Reaching down, she caressed his cock back to hardness while her other hand reached to tilt his head down. She lunged in to feign a kiss and shifted her mouth to his ear.

She whispered harshly, “Are you a fifty-year-old virgin? Fondle—the—fuck out of me.”

When he didn’t react, she shifted her hands to clasp his and then maneuvered them down the curve of her back until they firmly cupped her butt cheeks.

“That’s it, just like that. Fucken man-handle my ass.”

He replied, “This isn’t a good idea for many reasons.”

“Vincent shut the hell up and treat me like a whore. I’m horny and your big daddy cock is going up my tight girl pussy whether you want it or not.”

She followed that statement by interlocking her hands behind his neck and jumping upward to scissor both legs behind his waist.

The sudden shift of weight and momentum pushed Vincent’s shoulders against the wall.