Meeting the Curator

"Yes," said Miss Trickett. "It is I."

"Who?"

Miss Trickett scowled. She was a tall, exotic-looking, raven-haired woman with coffee-dark skin, in a tight black cheongsam that clung closely to her luscious curves. She sat at a silk-draped table in her wood-panelled office in the Hall of Memory, behind a faintly luminous crystal ball.

"Miss Trickett," she said, testily. "Of Trickett and Trapp's Carnival of Shadows. Architect of the villainous predicament in which you two girls currently find yourself."

"Oh," said Bonnie, politely. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Trickett."

"We've met before."

"When?"

Trickett stroked her orb, and Bonnie suddenly remembered the day about a month ago that Miss Trickett had walked into her house, dressed exactly as she was now. The exotic enchantress had ambushed Bonnie in the middle of making breakfast, bent her over the kitchen table, pulled her jeans and panties down around her ankles and smacked her bare bottom with a wooden spoon until Bonnie begged for mercy. Then, she'd stripped Bonnie naked, dusted the redhead with flour, poured a bowlful of raw egg over her head and left her tied to a telephone pole outside her house for the rest of the day.

Bonnie blinked.

"Um," she said. "Oh. Yeah. I remember you."

"I don't," protested Susie, and Trickett stroked her orb again. Susie immediately remember the time Miss Trickett had walked in on her with a video camera while she'd been masturbating in her bedroom, naked, to a lesbian porno magazine she'd found on the woods. She'd filmed the whole sordid act, while Susie, red-faced and still avidly fingering her pussy, had begged her to stop. Then, as punishment for being a naughty little lesbo who liked masturbating too much, Trickett had made Susie walk naked across town to Anne-Marie Patchett's house and apologise on her knees for thinking about the cheerleader queen while playing with herself.

Susie went bright red. "Wait," she said. "Ten seconds ago that hadn't happened yet!"

"You're being ridiculous, Susie. That sentence makes no grammatical sense." Trickett stroked her orb, and both Susie and Bonnie recalled that she'd been making sporadic, unannounced appearances in their lives for as long as they could remember. Every time she showed up, she used her seemingly infinite magical powers to do something incredibly, sadistically humiliating to them, something intensely cruel and mean-spirited that always left the girls trembling with indignity, anger and mortification.

They had no way to know when she would appear, and no way to prevent her from doing anything she liked with them. Sometimes, months would pass between visits. Other times, Trickett would visit Susie and Bonnie three or four times in the same week. She would pour itching powder down their panties during long bus trips, turn their clothes to gelatin during school plays, hypnotise them to flash their breasts to the boys they most despised, and teleport them out of their bathtubs to the middle of crowded metropoli on the other side of the world. Quite a few times, she even tied Bonnie up and fucked her with a big black strapon while Susie watched helplessly from a chair.

Oh, and everyone else in the entire world seemed to think it was hilarious. They teased and mocked Susie and Bonnie about it constantly. No sympathy at all.