Rachael Ross Archives - For Internal Use Only

RBVS 12

Peculiar Sovereignty

 

Genesis

"Every harlot was a virgin once."  – William Blake

 

Prologue


Oh man. Someone was screaming. My head hurt. My body ached. I felt cold. For the first time in my life I shivered with cold. The light hurt my eyes and the screaming wouldn't stop. It was suffocating me. The bright cold scream. Oh, it hurt. Dying. Shit. I hated dying.

They wrapped me up and put me in her arms. That tunnel of light they talk about, you know where that goes? It ain't heaven, brother, I can tell you that. Maybe I was crazy. I knew I was crazy. I remembered being crazy.

"You know what the cure for crazy is?"

"Nope." The bartender shrugged.

"Same as the cure for cancer."

"What's that?" the woman next to me asked, looking better and better with every passing minute.

"Dying," I said, watching her cheeks hollow as she took another drag off her Virginia Slim.

"You're a happy camper." She crumpled her cigarette into the ashtray, grabbed her purse, and that was that.

"Cures syphilis too," I called after her and the bartender chuckled. He was an alright guy. "Alone at last," I sighed.

"Another?" he asked, tilting the bottle and I looked at him.

"Why? You got more sisters?"

"Heh! You're a funny guy." He poured me a drink. "What'd you say your name was?"

"Smith," I replied, picking up my glass and peering into the murky scotch. "Istanbul Smith."

"Hmph."

I swallowed hard and winced, getting the burn just right before I reached into my jacket, pulled out my Glock, and shot the bartender between the eyes while he wasn't looking.

BLAM!

"What the fuck, Stan?" Mercy asked and I narrowed my eyes at the blood spattered mirror behind the bar.

"That look like a Jackson Pollack to you?" I asked her and then I fell off the barstool.

"Wake up," Mercy slapped me. "Get on your feet."

"I'm tired," I muttered, looking at the world sideways with my cheek on the old pine. I'd been drooling.

"You gotta get us out of here," she said and I groaned as she got us up.

"Just relax, baby."

"Relax when we get outside."

"Where's my gun?" I wiped my mouth on the back of my hand.

"And don't call me baby, Stan."

"Sorry," I breathed, clawing at the bar and grabbing my pistol, knocking over the whiskey. "I forgot."

"Leave the bottle. You drink too much."

"Nag, nag, nag…"

"What did you shoot that guy for?" Mercy wondered as soon as we were in the truck and I looked into the rearview mirror for a second, catching her green eyes.

"Stop it." I frowned, turning north onto the old highway. The kind nobody uses anymore except to get away.

"Look at me," she demanded and I didn't have a choice. "What'd you kill him for?"

"How many bartenders ever wanted to know my name?"

"I don't know. None."

"Yeah." I smiled into the mirror and she let me go.

"Always a first time for everything though…"

"Don't pout."

"…doesn't mean he was gonna do anything."

"You wanna drive for awhile? I think I hit my head."

"You're drunk."

"Same thing."

"I ain't gonna play with it."

"I didn't say that." I glanced at the mirror. "Don't work when I'm drunk anyway."

"I thought you hit your head?"

"Just drive, Mercy."

"Get some sleep," she agreed. "I'll wake you up when we get there."

"Hmmm…" I smiled and closed my eyes, letting those warm feelings come, and drunk or not, she made my dick hard.

"Asshole," she whispered, but I was already sleeping.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Shit. Stan. Stan! Wakeup!"

I heard her and I was awake, she knew it too, but whatever was going on, Mercy could deal with it. My head hurt.

"Yes sir?" Mercy asked politely. "What did I do? Was I speeding?"

"Would you mind turning off the engine, sir?" the cop said, almost making it sound like a question.

"Stan!"

"You woke me up for this?" I snorted. "Deal with him."

"Why do I gotta deal with him?" Mercy shut off the motor.

"I need to see your license, registration, and proof of insurance, please," the cop said mechanically, shining his flashlight into the cab of the pickup truck.

"But what did I do?" she asked him, leaning over to reach the glove compartment.

"You have broken taillight, sir."

"Oh. Really?" Mercy frowned as she pulled the paperwork out. "I guess I'll have to fix that. I'm on my way home from, um…college and…"

"Good one. College," I chuckled. "Tell him you're a Wildcat."

"Shut-up," she said and then smiled at the trooper. "Here you go, officer."

"College, huh?" the guy asked as he took the registration and insurance card. "Where do you go to school at? I need your driver's license too."

"Uh…University of Arizona." Mercy smiled, giving him those big green eyes beneath a tangle of long black hair. "Go Wildcats. Oh! My license? Sorry. I, uh…I think I left it in my dorm, um…"

"No license?" The cop smiled back and he looked like a cop, all hard and lean like Dirty Harry, and that thought made me laugh.

"Stop it," Mercy warned me and licked her lips. "I'm sorry, officer. I guess I was just excited, you know, going home and…Mmmm…I don't wanna be in any trouble."

"Have you been drinking tonight?" he asked, kind of flicking the papers with his thumb.

"Me? Um…No," she replied and for a college girl, you'd think Mercy coulda lied a little better than that.

"Alright. Step out of the truck, please…" he sighed, stepping back a couple feet.

"He's gonna find the gun," I told her.

"Shut-up!" Mercy yelled. "God! You think I don't know that?"

"So you better do something."

"I woke you up!"

"And that's what you always do," I told her as Mercy opened the door. "I can't kill everybody everytime."

"I'm not the killer, remember?"

"Gotta bust your cherry someday, baby."

"And don't call me baby!"

"Pull it while you're getting out," I said. "Just like I taught you. Clock him right between the eyes."

"Oh God," she sighed. "Go back to sleep, Stan."

"Oh." I frowned. "You're not gonna…"

"Yeah!" She giggled, hopping onto the asphalt and smiling at the cop. "He likes me. I can tell."

"You know that makes him queer, right?"

"Not me!" Mercy said. "So if you don't wanna watch, Stan…I guess I might have had one drink, officer," she said, striking a pose and pouting the way she does.

"One drink?" The trooper cocked his head. "How old are you?"

"How old do I have to be?" she wondered playfully. "Do ya want me to, uh…" Mercy licked her lips, "…blow your wand or something?"

The headlights from the man's cruiser illuminated her just fine, but he used his flashlight anyway. Five foot eight, thick black hair blowing in the cool desert breeze, a slender body and long legs in faded jeans, the denim hugging boyish hips and a tight, round ass. All she needed were some nice tits to complete the picture, something genuinely feminine to go with that pretty face. A boy's face, but girlish somehow, especially in the eyes. Those sexy green eyes of hers.

He liked that shit too, Mercy could tell, and she couldn't lie to me. Hell, she couldn't lie to anybody, but especially me. Maybe the cop really was queer, but probably not. I'd just said that to tease her. She couldn't hurt a fly and we both knew it, that's why I did all the killing. She did all the fucking. Goddamn, that little girl could fuck, and as much as I wished I could look away, fall back into the dark, I never could. I had to watch and we both knew that too.

"Mmmph…Fuck…That's good…" the trooper breathed, holding Mercy's head as she knelt by the side of the road.

She had her hands on his ass, pulling him into her mouth as Mercy slid her lips along the shaft of his swollen prick. He had a long one, thick too, and her lips were drawn tightly around it. Her tongue washed the smooth head and then wriggled beneath him as he mouth fucked her. She could do that thing, you know, lick a man's balls while she swallowed his prick head first. Mercy knew how to a suck a cock, believe me, and she loved it more than ice cream.

Mercy loved a man's fingers in her hair as well, being submissive and slutty and making all the soft, wet sounds a guy likes to hear. She swallowed noisily and gasped for air, looking up and giving the cop her emerald eyes. Spit and precum spilled down her chin, dripping onto the dark pavement between her knees. She'd pulled his balls free and she kissed her way along the man's wet prick so she could lick and suckle them for a long minute or two with his cock against her flushed face.

She washed his balls, taking them into her mouth one at a time, rolling it with her tongue before spitting the testes free with a delicious plop. What a tease. Mercy dragged her tongue along the underside of his cock, giggling breathlessly as the firm flesh rode her chin until she took the head once more between her lips. She let him use her then, mouth fucking her for five long minutes without caring when he made her choke and gag helplessly beneath his strong hands. Mercy's muffled coughs made her cheeks bulge outward and sloppy juices spurted from the corners of her taut lips.

"Oh bitch! You faggot! Fuck!" the trooper gasped, hunched over and pulling Mercy's face into his uniformed crotch as he finally ejaculated.

His thick cum had a rich, salty flavor and it flooded Mercy's overfilled mouth completely. She had to swallow quickly and that just made it easier for the man to force his prick the rest of the way inside. Her throat opened for him as he stretched her thin muscles almost painfully, loosing his semen directly into her stomach. She couldn't breathe and pressed her hands against his thighs, trying to push herself away, but the cop was an asshole. He held Mercy tight until the edges of her vision had turned dark and blurry, stained with the tears filling my deep blue eyes.

When he let me go, I fell onto my hands coughing and retching and tasting cum. My mouth was full of the stuff, my tongue and teeth covered like I'd been drowning in salty snot and it pissed me off, like it would any man. I hawked and spat, and drank cool air into my heaving lungs while the trooper chuckled, putting his cock and balls back inside his neatly pressed trousers.

"Thanks for the blow, faggot," he sneered, forgetting how eager he'd been ten minutes before.

"Yeah," I breathed, getting to my feet. "Hey, I think I found my license."

"What's that?" he asked stupidly, watching me pull out my Glock and I really don't think he knew what it was until it hit him.

BLAM!

BLAM! BLAM!

"What'd you do that for?" Mercy asked and she was still a little groggy, just like I was a little drunk.

"Shoot him?" I wiped my wet, bruised mouth with the back of my hand. "Because he was a jerk and…"

"Three times in the face?"

"I dunno. Fuck." I shrugged, getting behind the steering wheel. "Crime of passion, you know?

"Yeah," she sighed, giving me those bright green eyes in the mirror. "Thanks, Stan."

"Sure, baby."

"Shut-up."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Chapter One



"Set the time machine for way up ahead, Mr. Peabody."

"Who's Mr. Peabody?"

"A really smart dog."

"Is he a friend of yours?"

"No. I just want to grow up."

"I'm six."

"I know, Mercy."

"How old are you?"

"Six."

"Like me!" she giggled. "I wish we had a dog."

"Mercy! Where's your socks?" Mommy interrupted us. "We're going to be late. Give me your foot."

"Where are we going?" I wondered.

"The doctors," Mercy whispered.

"What's that, honey?" Mom looked up from the little girl's feet.

"You don't have to talk to me out loud."

"What's out loud mean?"

"Out loud?" Mom narrowed her eyes. "Are you talking to your friend, Mercy?"

"You told her?"

"Sorta." Mercy swallowed hard. "You were sleeping and I wanted to…"

"Oh great! I told you, I'm a secret. You can't tell anybody!"

"What's he saying?" Mom wanted to know, pretending like she really believed the girl.

"He said he's a secret."

"Mercy!" I yelled and she clamped her hands over her ears and squinched her beautiful green eyes tightly shut.

This wasn't going to work.

"Mercy? What's wrong? Mercy!" Mom didn't think so either.

"I'm okay, Mommy," I said softly, looking down so she wouldn't see my blue eyes. "He's just make believe."

"What?" she asked suspiciously. "Look at me. What happened, Mercy? Tell me."

"Nothing," I shrugged. "I was just playing. Can we get ice cream after the doctors?"

"Let me see," Mommy touched my face as if I might have a temperature and as much as I tried, it's pretty tough to hide the eyes from a concerned mother.

"They're not gonna gimme a shot, are they?" I bit my bottom lip.

"You've got blue eyes again." She made it sound like the end of the world. "Come on, Mercy. Other foot. We have to go."

Silly Mercy. I loved her more than anything, but she sure was a lot of trouble sometimes.

"I'm sorry, Stan."

"It's okay," I told her. "We just gotta be careful, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I always know what you're thinking, remember?"

"I know what you're thinking too."

"I know you do," I agreed. "That's why you don't have to talk, okay?"

"I remember now."

"Good."

"Mommy thinks you're me."

"Yeah. But I can't do this for too long yet."

"Why not?"

"Cause it makes me tired."

"It makes me feel nice."

"I know, but you have to be you again, Mercy."

"But I like it when you're me."

"I know."

"Just a little bit more?"

"I can't or else I'll be tired when we're at the doctors," I told her. "You don't wanna be alone there, right?"

"Uh-uh."

"Yeah. So, I'm gonna let you go now. Ready?"

"Hey, Stan…Are we Siamese Twins?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "Where'd you hear that?"

"I dunno."

"We're joined at the soul, Mercy."

"What's that mean?"

"Nothing. You ready?"

"Yeah."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= 

"I don't think there's anything to worry about," Dr. Heyburn said from behind his desk.

"She's not…" Mom glanced at us, "…sick?"

We were pretending to be busy coloring at a small table nearby. The hospital had a really great playroom for their young patients, filled with all kinds of fun stuff and helpful clues for the doctors.

"No," the doctor reassured her with a smile. "Not at all. What you have is a very smart little girl. She tested extremely high in every area…socially, emotionally, intellectually…"

"But…"

"She's just bored, Mrs. Carlton," Dr. Heyburn said. "She's looking for an outlet. Have you considered special education?"

"Special? But you just said…" Mom blinked. "She's…retarded?"

"No, no." The doctor shook his head quickly. "Quite the opposite. I mean special in the sense that her current environment is holding her back."

"Current environment? You mean…first grade, right?"

"Mercy is well beyond the first grade," Dr. Heyburn explained. "She invented her friend because her peers at school aren't stimulating for her."

"You're saying she's some kind of genius?" Mom smiled doubtfully. "She still only six."

"Not a genius, perhaps, that's a difficult condition to diagnose," he chuckled. "But she's certainly intelligent, mature, and very well-adjusted to her situation. There's nothing wrong with your daughter."

"What about her eyes?"

"Changing color?" The doctor shrugged. "I suspect that's a physical response to stress, like a blush response in the skin. It's highly unusual, but not entirely unheard of."

"But…"

"We've run a number of tests, Mrs. Carlton, and Mercy is just fine, I assure you. She's just…smart."

"Am I really smart?" Mercy asked me. "Or is it because of you?"

"You're smart," I replied. "I don't give you any answers, do I?"

"No."

"I just help you learn, that's all. Like when you're reading, I help you with the hard words."

"Yeah."

"So you're smart all by yourself."

"It doesn't matter anyway."

"Why not?" I wondered.

"Because," she giggled, drawing another look from our mom, "you're me anyway."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I'm you, Mercy."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Mercy…" Mom rapped on the bedroom door, "…are you up? Let's go."

"Mmmm…"

"It's almost six-thirty," she said, tugging on the comforter. "What do you want for…Mercy?"

"I'm up," I groaned, blinking at the thin morning light.

"Who are you?"

"What?"

She'd stepped back suddenly, almost like she'd been frightened and Mom's eyes were big and her mouth was open and I looked down at myself, but that wasn't right. Mercy was still asleep. I was awake and I felt something. I needed to pee, but…no. My dick was hard. I'd been dreaming about something. What? Sex. Except I'd had a dick in my dream and now I was awake and…

"Who are you?" Mom repeated and she was still scared.

"Puberty," I smiled at her. "What a rush."

"Where's my daughter? Why are you wearing her nightgown? Why are you in her bed?"

"It's me, Mom." I tried to look scared too, but mostly I just wondered what I looked like period, you know?

"No…" she whispered, shaking her head.

"Are my eyes blue again?" I asked in my best little girl's voice and after living in Mercy's head for twelve years, I could do her pretty good. "What's wrong, Mom?"

Thud.

Mommy hit the floor.

"Stan?" Mercy sounded frightened too, but she was with me, so not too much. "You still kinda look like me. A lot, I mean. Except for…"

"Yeah." I nodded, standing naked in front of the tall mirror mounted on the bathroom door. "Except for my dick."

"Is Mom okay?"

"Yeah. She's just sleeping."

"Is, um…is your thing supposed to be hard like that?"

"I think so."

"What's it feel like?"

"Nothing."

"Oh."

We really did look a lot alike, which makes sense, I suppose, since it's kind of hard to change a body completely. My eyes were blue, but we already knew about that. Same long black hair, that didn't change at all. My shoulders were a little wider maybe, my hips more narrow, but not a lot. We were just twelve anyway. Same flat chest and tummy, same skinny legs and about the same butt, so far as we could tell. I had a dick, of course, and balls instead of a pussy. Our faces were a little different too. Not drastically, but like twins might be different, a brother and sister.

"You're cute," Mercy laughed. "Kind of pretty."

"You're pretty."

"You think so?"

"Course I do."

"Okay," she agreed happily and we'd never really talked about it, if she was pretty or not. "How, um…How do we change back?"

"Do you want to?"

"Well…Yeah!" Mercy giggled. "I mean, I don't mind, but…someday. Right?"

"Well, yeah," I nodded. "I just don't know how we did it this time."

"You didn't do it?"

"Nope."

"What if we can't change back?"

"Relax. We can change back, we just have to learn how, that's all."

"But how do you know…"

"I know."

"…if you never did it?"

"Because we're sharing," I said, hoping she wasn't gonna freak out on me. "We'll figure it out. It can't be too hard."

"I'm scared."

"Just try it and we'll see."

"Try what?"

"Try being you again and I'll try not to be."

"I don't even know how!"

"Me neither, so…"

"Stan!"

"Shhh…Calm down. We can do it, just…like when I take over sometimes, you know, except more."

"But I never did that!"

"I did," I reminded her. "I do it all the time. Your eyes change color, remember? So just…What do you do when I take over?"

"Nothing. I, um…I don't think about it."

"Okay. So I won't think about anything and you think about being you."

"Are you sure it's gonna work?"

"Absolutely."

It didn't work and her panties were too small, but kind of comfortable anyway.

"I feel tired," Mercy said out loud.

"We're almost there," Mom replied nervously. She'd woken up and decided a doctor would be just what we needed, proving that on some level she really did believe us. Mercy's green eyes had helped with that, I was sure.

"The more you do it, the stronger you get," I told Mercy. "You just have to practice more."

"Maybe I'm not strong enough to change back."

"Maybe," I agreed. "At least you know how take over now."

"Yeah," she sighed. "I wanna sleep."

"Alright."

I'd had a lot of practice taking over in Mercy's body and I'd gotten so I could do it for a whole day before I had to sleep. She'd just learned how though and after fifteen minutes or so, Mercy had to let go. Our green eyes turned blue and she slept peacefully somewhere in my subconscious, leaving me to deal with our mother.

"I don't understand," the receptionist said with a calm smile.

"I want to see Dr. Heyburn," Mom had run out of patience. "This isn't my daughter!"

"Mommy," I pouted, paying her back for putting me in a silly pair of jeans with big daisies stitched onto the back pockets. The black t-shirt was okay though.

"I'm just trying to understand," the receptionist kept on smiling. "If you could fill out these forms…"

"Where's the doctor?" Mom demanded. "I want to see Dr. Heyburn! Now!"

Ten minutes later we were sitting in an examination room. Well, I was sitting anyway; Mom was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, staring at me.

"Don't look at me like that, Mom."

"Stop calling me that."

"Why?"

"Do you have a name?"

"Mercy."

"No!" She shook her head and I realized confusion had given way to anger. "Mercy is my daughter. Who are you?"

"Ummm…" I shrugged. I suppose I could have kept arguing, but Mom didn't deserve it. I loved her, in my own way, and she was my mom. Sorta. "I kinda like Istanbul."

"What?"

"Istanbul Smith." I smiled and maybe blushed a little. "Like Indiana Jones…Kinda."

"Where's Mercy?"

"She's here," I told her softly. "We're both here."

"I don't understand. What does that mean?"

"I don't know, it's just…" I shrugged. "Sorry, Mom. We didn't do it on purpose."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Dr. Heyburn didn't say, "You're getting very sleepy…" or anything cheesy like that. I wasn't even sure I was hypnotized at all. Mercy wasn't. She'd woken up in the middle of the MRI thing and I'd told her about all the tests they'd been doing.

"I knew I shouldn't have told her."

"Mom?"

"Yeah," I sighed. "See? It proves it, Mercy. We can't trust anyone except each other. I knew it."

"She's our mom though. She's just worried."

"You know what Dr. Heyburn's other name is?"

"What?"

"Colonel Heyburn."

"So? Daddy was in the army. We always come here."

"If the army finds out…"

"Stan…"

"…they're never gonna let us go."

"…stop it."

"I saw it on television," I sighed. "Once they get you? They never let you go."

"Stop it. You're scaring me."

"You should be scared."

"You're in a safe place," Dr. Heyburn interrupted us. "What's your name?"

"Are you sleeping, Stan?"

"I don't know."

"Tell me your name."

"Leave us alone!" Mercy told him.

"Who am I speaking to?"

"Mercy," I smiled.

"Stan! Wake-up!"

"Where are you, Mercy?" the Dr. asked patiently.

"Fuck you! Stan…"

"Hmmm?"

"…I wanna go home. Let's go home."

"It's safe here."

"Who are you?" Heyburn just wouldn't give up.

"I'm…"

"Stan!"

"…God."

 

        Chapter 13