Plots, Plotting, Plotters

After my dear young cousin had spent the night showing a certain ape boy that the purring of a Lynx was not the only physical pleasure in life I could provide him I decided to send her on a fact finding mission. Elyce bless her dark wizened core of a heart embraced her new role of angel of destruction and only too happily agreed to descend upon an unsuspecting minxie. I had no recourse but admire the confidence of a beautiful woman in control. Her sexuality and her heritage are her weapons and how Elyce used them well.

Minxie in her delectable rebellion had decided not to join her family in the compound, in fact my sweet little minx decided that hanging up on me was to be her new employment. Undeterred by her petulance I knew she had to be disciplined in the manner that I discipline everyone—the removal of something that is important. For minxie this meant the happiness of her friends. Unlike most of her friends she did not chase the glitter of gold, the dross of glitterati nor was even the protective shield of a career, minxie was not to be bought, blackmailed or threatened however the dear little child could be frightened with the destruction of those she loved.

My punishment for minxie is to ensure the wedding of the last two untouched creatures of her social circle, the delicious daughter of the Sedero hag and her eldest son, the dimwit offspring of the wine baron did not occur. So far the boy was not seduced and the girl well, I am yet to discover a single deviant thought she had ever had in her entire life. They were what the world would describe as the golden couple, well matched, handsome, and wealthy even before they start their lives. In other words decidedly dull and annoying as a paper cut. It was time to gather whatever information I could in order to implement my destruction before minxie implemented hers. I am well aware her supposed silence was not withdrawal but part of some larger plot, why else would all her besieged friends meet with her, why else would she be cloistered with the Russian bear thrower, why else would the mountain visit her every chance he can get? Something is rotten in the town of Bishop Vale and it is not of a Dubois doing which is completely unacceptable.

The thought of minxie establishing some sort of revenge sent a shiver of excitement down to my soul. I could feel myself hard at the thought of her attempting vengeance and I knew that this type of joy would mean a visit to the little bitch Tim whose body could accept the rampage that would ensue. Minxie turned my lust into a blinding wave and her very defiance cemented our future for I was never going to leave her until she had given up every hope. She was a Dubois and therefore mine forever.

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