Kallie Takes the Lead Pt. 04

The concrete of the tunnel is cold against the exposed skin of my ass, but my short legs barely respond after collapsing upon my meaty cheeks. The tremors in my thighs continue long after I sit down, and I have to concentrate to feel the vibrations of the approaching train in my bones. I know that all I have to do is stand, climb aboard and switch trains at the hub. I can't make myself get up from the ground and it's taking more than just a minute to gather my wits in the small alcove right off the main subway line: a Breakdown Station.

I haven't been the property of my master for very long. Since he opened my eyes to reality I've spent most of that time training with my new daddy to be the best slave and whore for him that I can be. Most of my training has been at his feet, or in my dungeon. I don't know all the secrets that someone born into this world would know, and I get lost a lot in the outside.

My master showed me places like this, where a person like me can catch a ride to the majority of undergovernment offices spread throughout the subway system. In an emergency, I can get most of the way back to the passages that connect to his house and my dungeon. These stations only operate when a rider is present, otherwise even as thick as ordinary people are, the use of them would come under scrutiny. In the eyes of the sleepwalking the subway appears to break down, allowing a rider to board or disembark the train.

The train stops and exhausted, I step aboard. It's a short ride to the hub, where I can disappear in the crush of people moving from place to place.

I step gingerly, not just because my dress is for lack of better words, a mobile bondage apparatus, between my legs, shoved deep inside my gash a silver egg sex toy sits rocking against my honey spot. The egg is enchanted of course, like many of the gifts my new daddy, my master, has given me. This passive sex toy activates in the proximity of a special soul we refer to as a potential. The closer the potential is more intensely the egg vibrates, with the acquisition of a rare and valuable soul, the vibration will not stop until physical contact is made.

The possibility of maddeningly powerful orgasms that will not stop, is a powerful inspiration to find the target. This damn thing wrung orgasm after orgasm from my dripping twat while I was sucking my father's fat stinking cock. It rapped against my g-spot forcing my body to betray me, and the enchantment wasn't even active then!

The egg began to buzz around inside me, sharp fast pulses to get my attention, then varying in intensity as I moved toward or away from my target.

I see her, the potential, standing in the crowd, she's traveling to or from work, dressed in a kinda, "I barely manage to function" goth style. She's got a name tag from a local cheesy porn store chain pinned off kilter to her blouse, "My name is Erica, ask me if I care?" I made a note of her as I walked passed the turnstiles and changed trains, it was one of only a very few of those kinds of shops in this part of town. As long as she didn't approach any closer, the vibrating of the egg against my g-spot, should be bearable.

She turned, and stared at me, startled for a second, then her eyes relaxed and passed around me. She must have seen and then disbelieved what she had seen, my pale harnessed tits and body, bulging in my new tight black leather strap hobble dress.

I lose sight of her in the crowd, but the egg in my pussy continues to buzz so I know she's nearby. I smile for her and those blessed few like her, living free, but on the edge of a new world.

The train car is not very crowded, and I continue to give the sleepwalkers the impression of me as a frumpy woman in a no nonsense pair of shoes and a well worn overcoat. As long as I can control my squirming and moaning, I won't attract attention, and I can relax a little.

Once I'm out of the crowd, I can breathe. The buzzing of the egg takes a backseat to the thoughts I have been avoiding, what happened to me outside the licensing bureau comes back to me in waves, the way my father stunned my legs with his taser. How his fingers tangled at the back of my neck, as he sat on my face. How he forced his cock into my mouth, his taste and smell, the words he said to me, and that he has bigger plans for me.

That someone else owns me, literally body and soul did nothing to deter him. The fact that he is my actual father seemed to both turn him on, and make him loathe me at the same time. Maybe I'm projecting.

I obeyed.

I sucked his cock like I would my own Master because he ordered me to do so. In the shameful core of me, I know I *liked* sucking his cock like I would my own Master.

I'm such a whore.

"You did very well, obeying like you did."

I spun around as quickly as possible given my dress. No one in the train was close enough to me to be the owner of that voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you can't see me now. Just a second, this might take me a little effort to make this happen."

Lounging slobbily across three seats sat a tall, well muscled, obscenely busty, punk rocker in her late teens. She wore threadbare overlapping concert shirts, shredded fishnets, and a leopard print miniskirt so short it barely registered in Kallie's mind as clothing. Her legs stretched out across three seats, crossed at the knee letting more than a little ass hanging out. A wry smile played about her lips, as she slouched professionally.

"How do I look?"

A spike of pain shot right through my head. I grabbed my face directly over my right eye, and had to turn away.

"You're lying! How are you lying? It hurts!"

White crowded the edges of my vision, tunneling down to almost nothing in moments.

"Oh Gods, that's some deal he made."

Her hands, smooth and cool touched my head from behind on both sides above my ears.

"You can look now, it should be fine."

I opened my eyes, hesitant to look at her again. Sitting behind me, way taller and even more curvy, was a light red skinned girl dressed in the same clothes, now stretched to the point of ripping. She was pleasant looking, with a pair of rings pierced on both sides through her lower lip, and short horns poking out from her forehead.

"Are you a succubus?"

"Nope, not even a devil. I'm an Oni, pronounced Oh-ne we're in the ogre family."

"Like a troll?"

Moving so fast I thought she was going to punch my life out, she jabbed her finger into my face. The muscles of her forearm corded as she held her index finger like a lethal weapon.

"No, not like a stinking troll! Do,*you* have troll in your family? I saw *your* father, he's at least half troll!"

I flattened myself against the seat and wall of the train flinching away from her wrath.

"I'm sorry! I don't want to be insulting, I'm just not up on my fantasy biology."

"There you go again, ignorant talking, do these look like fantasy biology to you?"

She planted her long legs about four feet apart and pulled herself to her full height of over seven feet tall, and grabbed both of her proportionally gigantic tits.

I burst into laughter.

"Yes, yes they do!"

She looked at me like I'd slapped her, and then she smiled. I asked her,

"Are you following me?"

"Well, yes, but it's not creepy or anything."

"A seven foot tall invisible giantess follows me onto the train, and that's not creepy?"

She put her hands on her magnificent hips, and put on an Olympic quality pout.

"First, it's ogress, and second, it's my job to follow you, I'm assigned to your protection by our Master. Invisibility is just a helpful tool for moving around the straights. I'm sorry about the headache. I didn't know your contract had a truth clause, that must have hurt seeing me looking like a human."

"It wasn't all that terrible, except for the pain, you were pretty cute."

"Were?"

I smiled. Now that I could see the truth of her, the pain in my head rapidly disappeared. She was so very hot.

"So, tall stacked and red, what's your name?"

"Ah, names are tricky things for Oni, if you knew my true name you could command me, so... I'll answer to just about any name you give me."

"Alright, Gertrude."

"Any name but Gertrude."

"You look to me like a Roxie, buff and built like a brick wall."

"I like it. Roxie will do for now."

She fondled the end of the iron club she had slung over her shoulder.

"What's with the bat?"

"It's an Oni thing."

"Gotcha. So... If you're here to protect me, why didn't you stop that slug of a cop from mouth raping me?"

"Well, stunning you didn't hurt you, and your dad didn't act outside the conditions that meant that I would have had to break his face. He didn't take anything, he asked. Forcefully, and you obeyed your instructions. So that."

I dropped my head.

"You know who he is then?"

"I've been present the entire time since the Master first made contact with you. I've heard every conversation..." she licked her lips, "seen every encounter."

A very real sense of shame penetrated my body. It filled the place left vacant by my soul.

"Yeah, he's my father. Fucked up, I know. So why pop in on me now?

"I was bored."

She checked the seams of her badly stretched shirts, her transformation into her true form had almost destroyed them at the bust line, while exposing the piercings at her midriff. Her miniskirt was if anything, more mini, since now she was at least two feet taller than the first version of her I saw, and her fishnets if they ever existed, disappeared. Her boots suited her perfectly, battered and worn, the rubber soles worn smooth from use.

"You were bored?"

"Well, being invisible doesn't actually lend itself to any pass times. That and watching you suck down all that massive cock was getting me hot, I mean, look at me, I'm all red! So I figured, if I'm going to have to follow you around, then we might as well be pals or something. Master never specified that you weren't supposed to know of my presence, so why not?"

"So how did you get stuck serving Master?"

"He's a sorry researchy kind of bastard. Bloody bookworm, found my true name in a stack of old paper, summoned me. Locked me down with an enchanted circle, he put his mark on me, used my name, and I must obey him."

Shamelessly, she lifted up her miniskirt. Just above the cleft of her pussy was a mark exactly like mine, branded into her red flesh. I blushed almost as red as her, seeing all of that beautiful smooth hairless flesh. She was a mouth-watering hard body. Having only seen my mark upside down with my belly fat in the way, suddenly being able to see the same brand inches from my face, I couldn't help but to reach out and touch it.

The tail end of the brand, actually made contact with her clitoris, and I suspect mine did the same. She smelled so enticing to me, I couldn't help myself. As my fingers touched her brand, a jolt lanced through my fingers to the symbol on my cunt. My pussy clenched in micro-convulsive orgasm of a sort that threw me back into the seat, arching my back and curling my toes. Roxy doubled over as well, it looked like her pussy too was suffering the aftermath of an intense orgasm.

"What the bloody fuck was that?"

As I fought to find words, Roxy touched her own brand. Nothing seemed to happen. She touched my cheek, nothing. She ran her fingers down my breast, nothing. She ran her hands down my belly, hips , thighs, nothing. She set her open palm against my brand, and let her fingers lay over the slit my rapidly moistening cunt. Another bolt of sexual energy shot through our bodies, powerful, but less devastating than the first one. She pulled my body to hers as her two long fingers curled deep inside me.

"Oh my gods," Roxy exclaimed! "Its resonant power. The echo of the power you continually supply our master. I've never heard of it feeling so... good!"

She licked my juices from her fingers. On an impulse, I stood, and buried my tongue in Roxy's slit, lapping at her cunt and clit for all I was worth. I slipped my hand inside her pussy.

"Oh! oh gods, ah! Ah! Bloody hell, fuck. Suck my clit you soulless fat fuck meat!"

With her hands in my hair, she held my mouth on her clit, which thickened under the pressure of my lips and tongue, like a little cock in my mouth. The pulses of orgasmic energy rocked my body from my lips straight to my dripping cunt.

"Right there, little bitch, hold it... Right... There!"

My tongue slipped inside her, as I cast my eyes up between her tits, to look her right in the eyes as I mouth fucked her clit. The jolt felt on both ends, was one of the most mind blowing, pleasurable sensations I've ever had. Her juices ran from my chin into my cleavage, and down to my elbow as I breathed hard to recover.

"Your pussy tastes like cinnamon."

I looked up at her with my eyes glistening, dilated and fixed. The terrible feelings I had had just 15 minutes ago washed away by the thrum of an orgasm only second to the ones my master gave me. Her well muscled cunt fought to keep my hand as I straightened my fingers, and regretfully separated myself from her pussy. Roxie had begun to sway, spent from the orgasms. She sat on the floor of the subway train, and cradled my breasts to her face. We were practically eye to eye while she was sitting on the steel floor of the train.

"Oh my gods, you, you little bitch, you and I are going to be best friends. I've never come like that in 342 years, and I've had a giant's cock in me."

Still trying to catch my breath, I languished in her arms, allowing her to hold me up. It had been a while since I felt so safe in the arms of a woman.

"I think this is our stop, Kallie. I'll be invisible, but right behind you the whole time."

"Thank you, Roxie."

I felt empowered, armored, for having her. Not for the muscle, but now I was not alone. The thought had never crossed my mind that Master could or would have non-human servants. Did he fuck them? Had he fucked Roxie?

My mind tumbled back to poor Felix that I left paralyzed by my father at the licensing office. I wonder if he could move yet after being assaulted by that miserable taser jack.

I got off the train with all the other people, who went trotting off into the sunshine. I wonder if I still have to worry about sunburn, or other mundane concerns of my former life. It's another half mile to my next stop, and I have a lot of exposed skin. In my high heels and taking baby steps it's taking me close to an our and a half to get there. I am seriously worried about the shop being closed.

"I'm gonna be fucking late..."

"Take your time, Kallie, our kind of stores don't close like other places."

Roxie whispered in my ear, which sent chills through my entire body, echoes of the moments on the train.

"You're almost there."

Like most places connected to the real world, it wasn't quite what it appeared to be on the outside. The old neon sign, "Giovanni Appliance Repair," was rusting, but the lights still worked in places. Under the hum of laboring electrical, the front window while filthy, gave up an intermittent view of old soda machines, lawn mowers, and various scrap inside.

I couldn't imagine what Daddy wanted from a place like this. His instructions were clear, go to Giovanni appliance repair, find the oldest working soda machine, press the buttons in the following sequence, from top to bottom 5-3-3-4-1.

The space within the shop side was at a premium, the hoarders paradise within presented challenges to the bulk of my hips and tits. Moving around stacks and narrow walkways of crap, while trying to maintain my balance in fuck me heels, and take 8 inch steps because of my harness dress was a significant challenge to me. Right now, I wholeheartedly agreed with my master's assertion that my fat little body was only made for fucking, as I stepped over a typewriter in the path.

"Fuck!"

I snagged a strap of my dress on a stack of adding machines so old it took me a second to recognize what they were. The top of the stack looked to fall and bury me.

"Careful..."

My guardian Oni steadied the stack and un-snared me before the mass of payroll revenge could crush me. Roxie lifted me up by the waist, like I weighed nothing, set me back down with a saucy invisible hand that felt me up.

"Thank you..."

I whispered to her. Without a soul, I might be barred from nirvana, but I didn't want to start three hundred years of life with a reputation as a girl who talks to herself.

The oldest soda machine working stood in the corner, of the room. I pressed the buttons in order, 5-3-3-4-1.

Nothing happened.

"Did you put money in first?"

Kuh-chunk, it drops, 5-3-3-4-1. Change rolled out of the machine, an unfamiliar gold coin dropped onto the ground. It rolled across the cement floor, catching a groove and rolling into the space surrounding a large iron grate. Bright blue words ringed the circle, rising into the air with an expanding light.

"What are you waiting for girl? That's an invitation. Just leave a little room for me."

I stepped into the circle, minding my heels on the grate. There was a bright flash, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust. The room seemed the same, the structure and layout at least, although newer and brighter. The contents of the junk shop completely changed with the exception of the soda machine. The coin raced around the circumference of the grate, not seeming to slow down or even think about stopping.

"Step off the platform my dear."

An old woman standing behind a desk that was previously a junk pile adjusted the multiple filters of her jeweler's spectacles and gestured toward me.

"And you too, what ever you are, I know you are there. Might as well come on out."

Roxie's seven foot tall form materialized behind me, causing the old woman to take a step back.

"Oni!" She placed her hands on her hips, squinting at us behind her glasses. "Haven't seen one of your lot in over a hundred years."

Roxie gestured at me and ducked her head under one of the dangling lights. She waved her hand dismissively.

"Under contract , playing bodyguard, she's the customer."

My curiosity was getting the better of me at the moment.

"What exactly do you sell here?"

I couldn't help but gape at the changes in the space, and peer at the small assortment of random objects now on display.

"Yes, well, we specialize in psychometric impressions embedded onto items. Those impressions are added to our collection for one of two reasons, the strength of the impression, or the very specific person who left the impression. Our product is guaranteed, or twice your payment back."

An odd assortment of objects sat upon pedestals, small and large pieces from a variety of vocations and occupations, they covered the gamut of humanity.

"What is acceptable as payment?"

This had been nagging at me the entire trip, Daddy hadn't sent me out with much, and everything I had on me had a specific purpose.

"We'll accept an object with another psychometric impression of similar value and power, or a memory taken directly from the customer."

Roxie stood behind me.

"Master has authorized the use of the memories from your childhood."

My memories? How could memories be a form of currency? I'll never figure out everything in the real world.

"How is this done? Are there any side effects?"

The old woman must have been stunning in her youth, the signs of beauty lingered in her shape. The silk of her blouse shimmered semi-transparent, and her stiffened nipples still pointed forward, on what was still a full bosom.

"Depending on the quality of the memory used, you might find that your memory is sharper, and recollection clearer than before. Most individuals find this to be a boon, rather than a negative." She paused, reflective, "rarely repressed memory have surfaced, very rarely."