Aurora isn’t the most helpful at coming up with ideas. She makes the absolutely cutest whining, squealing, and gurgling sounds . . . but she couldn’t say a verb to save her life. That’s what I’m here for I guess, but it would be nice if she could just randomly chime in with useful tidbits.

The sooner she starts talking the sooner she’ll just start saying stuff like “no,” “now,” and “I want a bigger allowance.” Silly girl, you’re just a baby! No thinking like that yet.

I keep feeling like I’m forgetting something. It might be because my brain doesn’t work all that good with it dyed all blonde and stuff . . . if that’s why then it can’t be a bad thing. “Everything going right-o as rain and such?” Oh! I totally forgot about Pink waiting in the limo! I mean, I remembered that I have to get Olivia and Dust down to the limo, and I remembered I was doing it for Pink, but I totally didn’t remember that she was like out in the limo waiting for me. That definitely makes me dragging my feet extra no fun.

Pink peeks into the room, looking all bright and cheery and happy with her hair in extra pretty pigtails and her eyes go wide. I wonder why? Really, I do! “Oh . . . Baby! Fuck damn!” She smacks herself really hard on the head in a way that looks like it hurts, and I wince. “Totally forgot.”

Whatever color silver is when you cover it with just a little white out? I can feel my face turning that color. I feel really scared and stomach-twisty uncomfortable in a way I really, really don’t like feeling. Last time I really remember feeling like this I passed out in a diner and woke up in a hospital. Jade didn’t really make me too happy holding an arrow in her bow all pointed at my head, but I don’t think she woulda let go. That would have really hurt!

Still, Pink is looking at Aurora, and she really doesn’t look happy. Doesn’t she see how adorable and cute she is? Shouldn’t that like, make her feel all maternal and clingy? We could have some cuddle time before we got back to work! There’s always time for cuddle fuck time, if like, she wants there to be. I totally wouldn’t be opposed to it.

My body feels kinda tense and tight, so I try to pet Aurora’s hair to calm down and calm her down. I don’t want her to start crying. I hate it when Aurora cries. It feels like I’m crying only worse.

A spark kiss would totally cheer Pink up, but it would probably make her really upset. People who teach me good ways to think don’t like want me to be making them feel all fuzzy. I should be a good girl and respect that. Good girls make their owners happy. Pink recruited me, so I’m hers! See, it makes sense!

“I-I-I-I-I should have said something, really sorry . . .” Making sense doesn’t make my stomach quiet down though, it just makes it a lot worse. Maybe this was better before I opened my silly silver lips. “I already called a sitter! We can just drop her off, she won’t mind! We can be in and out, and that’ll take care of that, Aurora’ll be fine, we’ll be fine, everyone will be fine . . . So will you!”

For some reason, that doesn’t make Pink look any happier. She actually looks a little frustrated and upset. Why would she be upset? I thought out the situation, without really thinking too much! I was a good girl! Got brains? Nope! Got helpfulness? Check!

Pink sighs. “Crap . . . You called someone . . . We’re gonna have to run collection on them, too. Bring the baby to the limo. We’ll let The Lady deal with her. We’ll pick up whoever you were gonna drop her off at too . . .” Pink wraps her arms around herself, frustrated, boosting up her boobs and staring at nothing in particular. How does she do that? I really wish I knew how she could just stare but look like she’s staring at the air between her and anything else. It makes her look so vacant and hot. “Loose ends. Lady hates loose ends . . . Set her down, and help me drag Olivia. She’s heavy as sin.”

“But but but!” Whimpering I hold Aurora a little tighter, biting on my lip and looking down at the crib and then at Pink’s face. I really don’t want to put her down. I really don’t want to have to worry and stuff! Giggles, brainless, tits, that’s all I’m supposed to be, not stupid thinky, not . . .

With a sigh I put Aurora down and slouch just a little. I feel really stupid, but I mean, that’s what happens when you don’t have a brain. You do really, really stupid things. “Be a good girl, okay Aurora . . .? Mommy has lots of work to do!” My voice sounds cheery and too high pitched, but my stomach feels like a little bit of a volcano inside. It’s all confusing. Shouldn’t I be all brainless brain fucked obedient and stuff? Maybe if I bounce a little then it’ll be a lot easier for me to get all of this done. Once it’s all done we can be one big happy family again, I just know it! “If we woke her up she could go all fleshy . . .? I dunno if five of us could carry her like this . . .”

As soon as I turn away to try and wake Livie up, my little girl starts to whimper, and then cry. It’s not loud as she usually is because she’s not really doing so perfect, but it’s so sad and pitiful and it hurts and makes me want to curl up and die.

Not even really noticing, or even really reacting, Pink just shrugs. “Yeah. Wake the gold slut up and we’ll get her fleshy, and drag her ass to the limo.”

My eyes start to well up, but I try really hard to not shake or whimper or stiffen up or anything. “Aurora . . . be good for mommy, pleeeease . . .?” It’s really hard to focus on being a good silly bimbo slut slave when your baby is crying. Maybe I should tell Pink, get reinforced some more . . .

But Pink isn’t acting nice like I remember. The Lady told me a loooong time ago that she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed, but I didn’t think she was like, mean. She was sweet and cute, or at least she acted like it! Then she would go and pink you up and make it so you couldn’t really think too well about anything, but that was after and by then you really didn’t care so it was kinda okay. Why can’t she be like that again? That would make it like, a lot easier.

Being really careful not to fall over with my legs shaking so much I kneel down beside Olivia and press a finger to the back of her head. If I focus on it, I can like, reverse the . . . polarity or something . . . of the sparks, and use ‘em to wake her up. Hopefully it’ll work. It’s worked before!

“God . . . She’s annoying.” Aurora starts to cry even louder, and Pink just shuts the door to her room. The sound gets a lot quieter when the door closes. I hoped that would make the feeling better, but it just makes it worse. It makes it a lot, a lot worse. “That’s better . . . Maybe we should just leave her here!” Her voice sounds so happy, like she just thought up the quickest and easiest way to deal with a problem in the whole wide world.

It makes my eye twitch, just one of them, in a way that makes my whole face feel like it’s twisting up. “She’s my little Aurora . . .” My voice sounds angry and sad, really hurt and painful, but I really can’t help it. She’s just being so . . . Got brains? No! mean . . .

“Fine, fine, we can bring her . . .” I try not to focus on Pink. Gotta be a good pink bimbo slave! Gotta just keep trying to spark Olivia awake, but she just won’t wake up! She won’t wake up, and if she doesn’t wake up, then I can’t leave, and if I can’t leave then I’ll be stuck here forever while Aurora cries and Pink just makes fun of her and makes a part of me feel dead inside and horrible and awful . . . “Is she going to cry like that the whole time? Don’t worry though, I’m sure The Lady will give her to an adoption agency or something.”

When I look up at Pink, just for a second, she’s running her hands a little through her fluffy pink hair. She looks way more concerned about making Olivia all peachy again than Aurora . . .

I can’t help it! I really want to, but I just start shaking and sniffling. I try to boun-No!-ce, I try to gig-NO!-gle, and I – NO NO NO! – try to wake Olivia up, but that’s not – No brains, no brains, I don’t want to have any brains, I want to fuck them quiet! – working at all. “Come on Liv . . . Livy . . . Liv Liv . . .” I try to make a really big one of the not as nice sparkies, but it just won’t work . . . “Pleeeease wake up ‘Livia . . .”

My body starts shaking and I can’t stay still! I don’t wanna cry, don’t wanna break, try so hard not to show it, not to be a miserable shattery little girl, but it isn’t working, won’t work . . . Whimpering and shaking and making dry crying sounds is gonna, it’s gonna make her look at me, gonna . . .

“Tanda . . . What’s wrong . . .?” Pink sounds so confused . . . but why would she be all confused? Shouldn’t it all make like, much better sense to her? She’s the extra smart one, teaching me how to bounce and talk in my head and dying my hair pretty bleach blonde and all sorts of stuff . . . She was probably The Lady’s first like, recruiter and everything. She should know like everything. The Lady knows about everything so she should know like half of about everything, or something.

My head starts to hurt. It starts to really hurt. Between my eyes feels really bright and painful, like someone shining a spotlight right into both of my eyes, but my like, high light vision isn’t kicking in. I still can’t see, like, barely at all. I can see the inside of light bulbs, this totally shouldn’t be happening!

All kinds of shapes and colors and feelings keep pounding into me from that spot, that painful spot right in the middle of absolutely everything. It’s like super bright, wrapping all around me and making everything turn into white fuzzy light, like some kind of mist or fog or something, something that makes everything go away, something that makes me all alone, more alone than I’ve ever felt before, just . . . me.

“Mrrrrnnnn . . .” I try to squint my eyes, but the light doesn’t get any dimmer. It’s almost like it’s not real light. I can’t place what it is, or where I knew it before, but I know I’ve felt it. I know it’s been around me a lot, maybe not lately, but still a lot. It makes me think of Dust, and Pink, and The Lady, and Caress, and Aura, and Glimmer, and Whisper, and Mind Bore, and Savor, and more and more and more people until it feels like I’m going to pass out from every memory of everyone whose ever been in my head stabbing me like a pickaxe in both of my temples at once and right between.

It’s not fun anymore . . .

The words flow around me, flow through me like music. They make the white bright light shimmer silver for just a second, but I can’t figure out why. It sounds like a voice, like a voice I know really, really well, but I just can’t really place it. It doesn’t make any sense. What is the voice trying to say . . .?

“Of course it’s not fun anymore . . .” Tears keep building up in my eyes and I sniffle, looking around, trying to find that silver light. “I missed Pink and The Lady but I . . . I don’t wanna hurt Olivia or lose Aurora or-or-or . . . but I . . . I don’t know what to do . . .”

It’s not fun . . . So stop playing.

It feels like . . . like the words touch my cheek, that silver flashing, a white light, a silver flash . . . It feels like a hand I know, a hand I’ve felt, a hand I’ve always felt . . . I can almost feel the source of it, but where I feel it from doesn’t make any sense at all so I ignore it. It’s just so strange. None of this can be real, but I feel it more than anything, more than anything I’ve ever felt in my life. It’s just a truth, just a solid knowledge, facts, words . . .

But it doesn’t make any sense, and I hate it when things don’t make any sense. It’s not any fun when things don’t make any sense. I can’t know the rules of the game, I can’t be better, I can’t be a good girl and just let it all go away! “Stop . . . playing . . .?”

I can almost make out something in the fog, eyes, lips, something . . . but it’s still too bright, and it hurts to look at too precisely, to try and squint at or imagine I know what’s there, but if I just . . . if I just . . .

Yes . . . Can’t you feel it . . .? Here, inside . . .? The fact that you’re still whole . . . That even after countless calories of pink lollies . . . Thousands of dusters worth of dust . . . So many cotton pink legs . . . All of Mind Bore’s toys . . . You can still think . . . You still have your mind . . . Do you remember how no one, no one could understand why you woke up again after that orange haired witch broke your mind over her knee?

“I . . . I . . . I . . .” It’s just so . . . so confusing! It’s so scary! I’m not this kind of person, I’m simple, I’m a little bimbo slut, this isn’t making any sense, it’s not supposed to make any sense, it can’t make any sense, because it can’t be real! It’s just not right, it’s not who I am, it’s not what I am, it’s . . . it’s . . . “I . . . I . . . just make me stop playing . . . Can’t think about this, don’t wanna, scary, scared, worried, don’t have time to think like this!”

Sarah!

Slap! That’s what the voice feels like, slamming across my face ethereally, like pure energy slamming into me, but it doesn’t hurt. It just feels like it pushes me back, shoves me back, makes me weak and powerless and unable to stand and . . .

Sarah . . . It’s an addiction. Unlike most people, your mind . . . Resilient . . . Some people, some methods, they don’t get to come back. Remove a bit of their brain. Cast the right spell . . . Condition them long enough . . . and conditioning . . . it works on you but . . . it’s an addiction, not e necessity. It feels like love, I know how much it feels like love, better than love, so much easier, simpler, no responsibilities or remorse, just lust and obedience . . . but at some point . . . you have to grow up.

It feels sad, but it doesn’t feel like I’m hearing the sadness in it . . . it feels like I’m feeling the sadness in it, as if it’s somehow . . . as if it’s . . . I don’t have . . . do I have . . . can I have words for this?

Or well . . . no you don’t . . . No, lust can always be chosen over love . . . Following over leading . . . Not everyone grows up. Not everyone has to . . .

Can it really be true . . .? Can any of it actually be true . . .? I don’t believe it . . . I want to, I want to so much, it would explain so much, it would be perfect, it would be wonderful, if I could . . . If I . . . Oh, it makes me think of the hose, of the lovely feelings Mind Bore gave me, that Ambrosia, all of that love, all of that bliss . . . I sold Jade out for an addiction, if it’s true and I . . . a part of me knows I don’t want to believe it so I don’t have to accept it, so I don’t have to . . .

“Stop!”

Everything makes me feel so exhausted, so tired, just so worn out and hung out to dry, dripping and stretched too thin, worn by a thousand people a little bit too tall or too large. I can feel it tearing at my seams . . . shaking me . . . rocking me . . . it doesn’t feel good, doesn’t feel nice . . .

Nobody is going to take my baby away from me! Even if it’s real, or if it’s fake, the light, the voice, the thing, everything, anything, I can’t let anybody do this to me! Not to Olivia, not to Dust, not to . . . not to anyone!

Good luck . . .

I can feel a tear, just a single tear, dropping down onto the middle of my forehead, feeling . . . feeling a light, a fire, a white hot silver shining beacon of hope or north or centering or . . . it’s inside, the tear doesn’t fall on my forehead, it expands from my forehead, drops over me, silver coating me, silver shining so deep and bright inside of me . . . I love it so much, makes me feel so safe makes me feel so . . .

“NO!” Pink doesn’t even have time to react when I reach out with my hand and send a spark into her from every finger tip. The first two go into her legs, and her thighs clench harder than any pair of thighs I’ve ever seen in my life. Two shoot into her breasts, going perfectly into her nipples, making them pop so visibly even against the white and pink clothing, looking so much like bimbo slut candy even if her tits aren’t all that big. The last spark from my middle finger slides right between her eyes, making those pretty crystal blues shine a bright silver before it dives in.

It’s not like with Dust where she was stuck standing upright with every part of her body being helplessly shuddered and fried by a thousand watts of obedience each and every second. It’s different. Her mouth twists wide open, and she falls helplessly onto her back with her legs spread, and her hands grasping to knead the sparks in her breasts.

She hits the ground before the scream of pleasure or the orgasm can even really hit, and she doesn’t stop shaking until there’s a new wet spot on the carpet.

The bright feeling, the pain, the confusion, the bimbo fuzz that Pink tried to smear onto me . . . It’s all fading. There’s no time to worry about it. There’s no time to think about it, to care if it’s real or not. I move down closer to her and pull up my skirt, kneeling down to grind my pussy into her mouth, and I spark for all that I’m worth. She screams against me, feeling so good, and looking so good with the silver in her eyes as she quivers and shakes.

Her hands try to grab at me, my ass, my thighs, anything, and I groan when they manage it and grasp tight as they can just as her lips do. I fuck her face, grinding and sparking, rubbing myself on her like Olivia against the floor, only her moans are much louder than mine, and hers are even muffled.

I don’t know how long I stay there, making her taste me, making myself flow over her to feel strong, to feel in control, to center myself, to feel safe . . . but when I do I fall forward . . . gasping and breathing for dear life as I feel her drool against me.

“I said . . . ‘No’ . . . Pink . . . I said ‘no’ . . .”

All that Pink can seem to do underneath me is jerk. She doesn’t really seem there and her eyes still look silver with little thin vines of energy running over and inside of them. Aurora and I are the only ones in the apartment currently able to think.

I stay there for a long time just clenching my thighs around her head, rubbing down more into her full pouty lips. It just feels good to feel myself able to tear away like that and when I stand my body feels far, far too shaky. I must have came just as hard as Pink did, or less or . . . I can feel it, feel the bliss, feel the strength of tearing away . . . and it was because of Aurora . . .

“No, no time for thinking . . . It’s time to truss up the bad guys.” Lucky for me, I keep around a lot of rope. Caress is the real reason I got good at knots, and Olivia kinda likes them too. We don’t do it a lot, but it’s enough to tie up Pink and Dust before grabbing Aurora back up into my arms. “Mommy is sorry . . . Mommy is so, so sorry . . .”

Aurora sniffles a little, but the more I bounce her and hold her close, with her all drugged up still from Dust, well, she’s not too whiny. All things considered, she is the best behaved little baby girl in the whole damned world. I love my little Aurora. The thought of losing her made me so angry, made me so afraid that it was all I could do to . . . was that how I got away from Yanta? Was that how The Domina got away from Yanuka? Did Yanuka give me back my sparks because of that, because I could defeat Quillspawn because of that, or . . .

There’s really no time for all of this speculation now, not with so much still going on. I keep rocking my poor little baby girl, hoping that dusting doesn’t have bad side effects on a child . . . and call up Val. Hopefully Olivia and my captives will wake up soon. The limo is probably still sitting outside, but leaving sounds like the best idea in the world, so, phone call it is.

“Y’ello . . .” Valerie really doesn’t sound all that happy. Her mood is probably in no small part because of my lovely bimbo-inspired earlier call, and likely knowing she’d have to take care of Aurora.

“. . . Yeah. Got mind fucked. Aurora might still need a babysitter, but you know I wouldn’t throw that kind of thing on you without a good reason . . . Thought I would call and you know, apologize. Long story short, and I mean a really fucking long story short . . . Do you know a good way to wash out industrial strength hair dye?” I bounce Aurora a little bit more to make her make more of those cute baby sounds, but I almost feel better as it is. I need to wash off the lipstick, all of it, get out of the top . . . get some panties on . . .

Fuck! They got hair dye on my uniform’s top. Who knows where the hell my boots are. I’m going to need to touch up my wardrobe after all of this is over.

“Uh . . . no? Bleach? I’ve never dyed my hair. If you’re suggesting I dye my hair, I know it’s an odd color, but . . .” She sighs and I really don’t blame her. This kind of thing doesn’t happen as often as it used to, but most people really don’t get used to it. Huh. “Should I be calling the police or something?”

“NO! Don’t call the police, really! Really don’t call the police right now. If everything ends up okay, you’ll hear about it on the news.” I pause just long enough to consider how bad that sounds. “No, let’s just say I don’t think I look good as a blonde. Aurora might disagree. Olivia is a wee bit passed out. I’m kinda tempted to ask you to swing by and grab up Aurora and get out of Midas. I can’t really leave at the moment, I have . . . Prisoners.”

I pause, and Aurora and I share a long, meaningful moment of eye contact.

“I just realized all of this finally stopped feeling all that weird. The last little ounce of my normality just dripped away, because I swear, Aurora looked like she agreed with me.” She almost seems to nod, but I know I can’t be seeing that right.

“All of what? Prisoners? Blonde hair? Are you sure I shouldn’t call the police, or someone else?” A loud knock on the door distracts me just a little from the pleasant conversation, and I stiffen up. “Get out of Midas? Great . . . That makes me and Sylvia feel really uh . . . safe.”

Staring at the door I move to set Aurora down. “The police are kind of the problem at the moment. All of . . . yeah, blonde hair. It looks so trashy, and actually, you know what? Just try to lay low. If you can. Sorry, I’ve got a knock on the door. If I don’t call you again by tomorrow, drop by and see about picking up Aurora. You know where we keep the spare milk.”

I hang up without giving her a second to respond and move in front of the entrance to the apartment, holding my hands out like a kid holding dual finger pistols at recess. I scream a loud “Whose there?!” through the door, but stay a good distance back.

Using the peephole sounds like a bad idea, but hey, at least it’s my idea again.