Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine

LaRenna, pulled to full height, and jammed one knee deep into her stomach, the blow throwing her back into Cance’s arms. The force crunched ribs, jarring inward workings until LaRenna gagged, startling Cance into breaking her phase and tossing her to the floor. LaRenna barely made it to her knees before she lost control, her searing gut in spasms as she expelled mouthful after mouthful of bile-tasting spew.
“Now look what you’ve done, Brannie,” Cance teased. “The barmaid has a mess to clean.” Cance kept back and allowed their prisoner to empty her stomach onto the floor, sure the punishment was unfitting the crime but unwilling to censure Brandoff. When the retching subsided, LaRenna crumpled to her side, finding momentary peace until Cance pulled her to a chair in the dining room’s center.
Cance handed a roll of hide binding to Brandoff. “Truss her good but not too tight. Remember what happened to that Aut girl you took to on the way here.”
“How was I to know she’d die from that?” Brandoff, ignoring Cance’s reminder that far more than strangled limbs had killed that child, secured LaRenna’s hands and feet, double-checking for fit. “Pity.” She forced up LaRenna’s lacerated chin until their eyes met. “Such a delicious little thing to rough up so. Do us all a favor, beautiful, be a good girl and cooperate from here on out. Don’t make me hit you again.”
Cance’s fingers lightly brushed LaRenna’s hair. “My twin has a fetish for small ladies.” The touch sent chills down LaRenna’s spine. “Too bad for you.”
Brandoff moved closer, her mouth cold on their prisoner’s ear. “And too good for me.” She locked LaRenna’s head in her elbow then wrapped the other arm over her forehead, pulling upward so her brows drew up. “You phase me and I’ll be forced to snap your sexy neck before we get to have any fun.”
“She’s smarter than that, Brannie.” Cance pinched LaRenna’s cheek then used her thumb and index finger to hold her left eye still, the other hand pushing back the lid until the edge of the brown lens became visible. “I won’t have you sliding these into place when I ask questions,” Cance explained. “You’re just stubborn enough require a phase to ensure honesty.” She grasped the lens between her nails. “And I will get answers.”
“True answers.” Brandoff braced against the chair back and Cance yanked the lens from LaRenna’s left eye. LaRenna gasped but said nothing, even when her captor’s nails scraped the sensitive whites of her eyes.
“Now the other.” Cance repeated the procedure, LaRenna coughing from the stomach acid that bubbled in her mouth. Her eyes burned, her sniffing proving uncontrollable as bloody tears trickled from the corners of her swelling lids. Brandoff loosened the hold on her forehead to suck at the salty streaks.
“She’s juicing ripe, Cance. Can we now?”
“Work then play.” Cance patted the bar counter. “Bring her here and we’ll pull off her slippers. I want to see her markings.”
“By the time you’re finished there won’t be much worth having.” Brandoff tossed LaRenna onto the bar and stretched her across the top, all the while observant of her languid state. LaRenna wasn’t unconscious but rather listening, waiting for her chance to escape, all of which changed with Brandoff’s next words. “What’d you say to giving her a puff? Won’t be near as fun if she’s comatose.”
“She does look out of it,” her twin agreed. “A half-dose should do wonders.” And Cance shoved an inhaler into her sedate captive’s nostril.
“No!” LaRenna returned to life, kicking and screaming, launching four rapid phases at her captors that paralyzed Brandoff but only angered Cance. The mind battle that ensued was frenzied, Cance regaining control only after several physical blows to LaRenna’s midsection. As LaRenna lay gasping, Cance sat on her arms, pinned her head, and shoved the inhaler deep. “Don’t want to take you too far up. I want you and that sharp little mind of yours aware of everything that happens.” She pinched LaRenna’s nose and mouth shut, forcing the vapor into her sinuses. “Enjoy the trip.” Cance climbed from the bar and removed one of LaRenna’s slippers. LaRenna struggled against her touch, launching a scratching phase at her captors until the prock began to surge. It was the strangest sensation, drawing her to an instant orgasmic peak then plummeting her into a distorted awareness. Colors were brighter, realer, fascinating in their complexity. Why, she could see them clearly despite her eyes! She was aware her cover was blown, but didn’t care as long as the pleasure continued. It was thrilling, but so very wrong, going as quick as it came to leave her violently angry. She was rabid, screaming obscenities and twisting in attempted escape.
Cance clenched her bare foot even tighter. “Just our luck! She’s a prock virgin, Brannie. Look how it’s hitting her. Things are perfect. Perfect! Couldn’t be better if we’d planned them this way!”
“How’s that?” Brandoff, still shaking from the phase fight, had taken a seat by LaRenna’s head.
“Read these.” Cance held up LaRenna’s foot. Brandoff read the markings then leaned forward, bare inches from LaRenna’s face. “Hello there, third Kimshee daughter of Belsas Exzal. I’m Brandoff Creiloff, one of the thousand-odd sisters your bitch of a guardian raiser had heat-branded like common herd animals and banished to Trimar’s ice caves. What you’re feeling now is just a taste of what we’ve endured. Prock keeps you awake so you aren’t killed or enslaved in the Junglelands. It’s an eat or be eaten existence on Trimar.” Brandoff licked her lips. “And I’ve learned to be very hungry.” LaRenna could smell soured wine on Brandoff’s breath, feel her unkempt hair brushing her shoulder. It was disgusting and so distorted Brandoff’s actual image that LaRenna couldn’t concentrate enough for a phase.
“I know who you are,” she sputtered, in a voice far weaker than she intended. “You’re murderers without souls or morals—a smudge on the glorious Mother’s golden skirts.”
“Temper, temper,” Brandoff replied. “We just met. Don’t be so quick