Black Gratification Part 6

 James Moriarty.

So this is who I am now, is it? It's perhaps a little strange, the more I acclimatised, reoriented myself in response to this life's memories, it feels more than the last time. Perhaps due to the age difference, perhaps due to the sheer gravitas of the person I now inhabit. James is certainly more than my last life ever was in most respects. Though he is lesser in one fashion that is impossible to deny. No, the word 'lesser' is insufficient for this. In this aspect, James isn't lesser, he is utterly bereft.

So this is what it's like to be without a conscience. It's... Freeing, in a strange way. I think back to all of the things he did in the time before I was here. Horrible things. He broke people as a hobby. Using them up then discarding them. All the while they would beg for his attentions while debasing themselves. Even when he had abandoned them entirely, they didn't care. He had become the centre of their world. More than a few knew he was done with them. But even if he would never come back for them, even if he tossed them away like a used tissue, they would still wait for him. Forever.

So many lives destroyed for his amusement. He didn't care in the slightest. And to be honest, neither do I. I have to wonder, does this speak to some sort of predetermined nature of being? James Moriarty is incapable of following his moral compass because he simply doesn't have one. But I did, or I wouldn't have gotten my first good life. I did what I felt was right far more often than not. But now that I'm Moriarty I look back on the memories of my first life and only see so much wasted energy on meaningless things. My second life is more to this me's liking but still, wasted effort. Accommodating people who mattered far less than me and my wants and needs.

And now in this life...

I know, logically, what my past lives would have thought of James, of his choices, of his desires. My first life would have been disturbed, perhaps quietly jealous, but disturbed. My second would see the ruthlessness as unnecessary. But... I'm not them anymore. I'm me. I'm James Moriarty. I'm a monster in the skin of a gentleman. And I'm okay with that. Maybe that's it. I designed a life where I would be okay with that, even if I wasn't consciously aware of it, I wanted this. I wanted to be evil, and so I'm unrepentantly evil.

I look to the clock. Time has passed quickly while I relived my own memories. So, I'm one of Salem's puppets, sent to 'break Ozpin's heart' as she called it by turning an entire school of huntresses into a mob of deviant whores. She's quite a bit more deviant herself in this world, it seems. Well and good. I suppose it's my choice how devoutly I abide by her plans. Last time I was heavily restrained by my choices. To earn powers I needed to follow the rules. Every woman's power I wanted I was then obligated to subvert, breed and marry them. In this life? I'm obligated for five women. Summer, Glynda, Kali, An and Salem. I need to break each of them until they're my willing pets and breed them. That's all. Anyone else I can take their powers simply through sex and then never deal with them again.

I smile, heading back into daydreams for a moment as I wonder which women might be headed for a bad end. Maybe I should get the ball rolling on such a thing myself rather than following James' methodology of fuck and forget. Something to think about. But for the time being... I believe I should make some progress on my obligations. For all James liberally but unknowingly abused some of the powers my choices gave him, there was one he never did.

Rising from my chair I march with purpose to the basement where Summer has spent the day arduously cleaning her mess from last night. I don’t know whether a decision was made by James at any point but it seems Summer has decided clothes are very much optional in the house. Bra and panties tend to be as far as she’ll go and even then it’s a miracle if they ever even cover anything. As I venture into the basement I find her wearing only a set of lingerie that leave her soft nipples and rosy labia surrounded but not covered by fabric. I believe she’s torn between wanting to be a proper servant but also wanting to offer me ease of access. One would think a skirt and no undergarments would solve her problem... But it seems she considers that rather too much covering up for her comfort.

I sigh. This is what James does to all of them eventually. Mind broken. Cock hungry. Especially for his. I might have to ease off at least a little. I’ve come up with a way Summer could be useful but she needs to have a little more upstairs than constant dreams of sex.   

I’m... Hm. I don’t think sad is the right word. But the part of me that remembers the old Summer before Salem got to her, it leaves me a little disappointed at what Summer has been turned into. I unfortunately agree with James’ assessment that the old her is gone. But the new Summer can be fun in her own way.

Summer isn’t cleaning. It looks like she finished up some time ago. At the moment she’s bending over, looking at the restraints she was bound in last night. Bent over, a hand running along the metal structure, eyes studying the locked box that contains my many, many recreational devices. “Summer,” I call out.

“Ah! Master!” She yelps as she spins around, excited to see me but nervous at getting caught. So much like a puppy I can imagine a tail wagging behind her. Like mother like daughter. In that sense I suppose Summer has been reset to factory settings, back to her most fundamental nature. With an added dose of obedient sex pet. “Summer is done with cleaning!”

“Good girl,” I praise her, setting that imaginary tail to wagging all the more as she beams up at me. “What were you looking at?”

“Ah, that is, Summer was,” she stammers awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Were you wondering about that box? Hm?” I ask, stroking her cheek.

“Summer is sorry, Master!” she offers immediately, not a hint of defending her actions. “Summer was remembering last night. It was.. .Master made Summer feel really good.”

“Of course I did, my dear,” I tell her, kissing her on the forehead. “You’ve been such a good servant, it was only right that I reward you.”

“Summer is grateful, Master,” she says demurely, hands clasped in front of her uncovered privates, pressing her breasts together between her arms. Her thighs rub together, a droplet of clear liquid running down her leg. Even in her state, she knows not to ask. She knows I can tell how aroused she is. And she knows it’s my choice whether to act on it, not hers.

I take her by the shoulder and lead her upstairs to the ground floor. “I have another task for you, Summer,” I tell her as I lead her upstairs again. “Or rather, two.”

“Of course, Master! Whatever you need!” she agrees eagerly without even hearing what it is. I lead her into the bedroom and she looks confused but excited. “Should Summer service you, Master?”

“Not at all, my dear.” I slide behind her, wrapping an arm around her, trailing my fingers across her belly, leaning into her neck to take in her unique scent. A woman who went through inconceivable hardship, came out the other side broken, only to be rebuilt to my purpose. My perfect little pet. “This task isn’t about what you can do for me. I’m going to give you a gift, Summer,” I tell her as my palm rests over her womb, “One I want you to hold and cherish for me.”

“Of course, Master,” she breathes as she relaxes into my touch, “Any gift you give me is the most precious thing in the world.”

“I’m glad you understand,” I tilt her head so that I can kiss her and she melts into it, the act a more intimate one than she ever expected from me. “Summer, tonight I’m going to put a child in you.”

Her eyes light up, her face flushes, she realises the significance of where my hand is and puts hers atop mine. “A child?” she asks in wonder. “Summer will bear Master’s child...” she repeats as if in a trance, or a dream. “Summer will bear Master’s child!” she repeats again with glee, “Thank you, Master! This is the happiest day of Summer’s life!”

And with how addled and unclouded her mind is, that might even be true. No worries, no fears, no thoughts but how to best please her master. And now she can. I lay her down on the bed, my beautiful Summer Rose, her body flushed and ready for me. Pale eyes filled with joyful need for the dream she never knew she had to come true. The slight fabric of her lingerie makes no attempt to stop me as I move atop her. Once again, just like last night, my cock sinks deeply into her folds. But the context of it is so very different. By tomorrow morning, even if it won’t show up on any test yet my Summer Rose, my faithful pet, she will be an expecting mother.

“Yes! Please, Master!” Summer begs as I push against her cervix, “Fill Summer up! Deeper! Summer can take it!”

I know she can. And I’m more than happy to oblige her as I push through the final wall in her womanhood, sinking balls deep inside this beautiful woman so completely under my sway. Her barrier fights to close around me but simply can’t.

“Yes! Yes! Master is in Summer’s womb!” she crows happily, feeling the little bump above her mound from where her body has had to accommodate my enormous size. She roughly twists her own nipples. “Mmmph!” she groans in pleasure and pain. “No milk yet, Master! But soon Summer’s breasts will fill with healthy milk for our baby! Would Master like to drink Summer’s milk?”

I don’t know if she knows just how effective this talk is for getting me riled up but whether she knows it or not, it’s working. I hike her legs up, putting her feet behind her head as I ram her pussy hard and fast.

“Ah! AH! Master! So deep!” she cries. “Master is blocking Summer’s womb! All his hot cum will be trapped inside! Summer wants Master’s hot cum! Summer will have no choice but to get pregnant!”

“That’s right, Summer,” I grunt, my hips slapping against her ass, the squelch of her abused sex as I drive my cock inside faster and faster. “Are you ready, Summer? I’m going to breed you now. I’m going to keep you as my own personal breeding bitch. Does that make you happy?”

“Yes Master!” she screams, her cunt spasming around my cock, “Please Master! Please cum! Summer needs Master’s cum! Please!”

“Here it comes!” I grunt, my hips thrusting forward to push my cock as deep inside her as it will go, pushing against the back wall of her womb. Spray after spray of hot, white fluid fires into her waiting core, more than enough to drown her ovaries.

“Ahhhh!” Summer squeals as her legs kick and jerk impotently as a second climax comes right behind the first. “Master’s cum! So hot! Summer will have Master’s child!” Deliriously happy is the only way I can describe her expression as I let my climax come to a close. I withdraw slightly but Summer makes an attempt to grab at me. I raise an eyebrow at the action and she realises her mistake. “M-Master... Could Master please stay inside Summer? Summer wants to... To make sure.”

I blink. She wants me to stay lodged inside her to stop the cum from leaking out. It’s unnecessary. But even so, if something as simple as this will reinforce her loving worship of me, it isn’t like I had anything else to do tonight. “Very well.”

She smiles a watery smile as I let her legs unfold, picking her up to climb into bed with her pussy still wrapped around me, her body pressed tightly against mine.

Just before she drifts off to sleep, words slip unbidden from her lips. “I love my Master,” she whispers, and with that thought unknowingly spoken aloud, she drifts into slumber.

Salem and James certainly did a number on her. I shall have to find a way to thank the Grimm queen for this. Though, providing her the same fate will likely be thanks enough. She will be happier as a woman conquered and bred. They always are.

-(-)-

Beacon’s staff meeting room is a place of form over function, much like the school as a whole. I can’t think of any reason they would design it the way they have were it not for purely aesthetic reasons. The room itself is cylindrical, taking up the centre of one of the CCT tower’s floors. It consists of a white ring table. All seats on the outside. On the inside... is a pit. Now, you might think, ‘Oh, like a judgement or council chamber where a speaker stands in the middle to be judged quite literally by those above them!’ No. There is nothing down there. Just a central column off of which hang several screens. There is no practical purpose for having the middle of the room several feet lower than the outside. Looking over the edge of the table I think I can see a broken coffee mug down there...

“That was the Headmaster’s favourite mug, once upon a time,” a rich, baritone voice speaks solemnly, a heavy hand resting on my back. “Wouldn’t come out of his office for days after it happened.”

“We are often forced to make unexpected sacrifices as part of our profession,” I say wryly, turning to face the cheerful, rotund fellow. “James Moriarty, pleasure to meet you.”

“Peter Port! Professor of Grimm Studies! Likewise!” he answers, loudly. “Glynda has told us a great deal about you, though she failed to mention your impeccable choice of facial hair!” He wiggles his lip, setting his own moustache to wriggling on his face.

“Ah, yes,” I chuckle, “I’m of the understanding that it ages me. Given my field, looking older and wiser seemed a logical choice. It only becomes more appropriate when dealing with children.”

“Of course, of course!” Port nods along. “The last thing you want as a teacher is for your students to not take you seriously! If they think of you as a joke, they won’t pay you the slightest bit of attention!”

“Ah! The new professor!” Another voice chatters at high speed and suddenly another is in front of me. “Doctor Bartholomew Oobleck, Professor of History!”

“James–”

“Moriarty!” Oobleck finishes for me. “Quite excited to meet you, I read your treatise on the positive economic impact of uncontrolled extra-national settlements! I appreciated your pragmatic approach to the subject! Reality must be faced before worthwhile judgements can be reached!”

He’s talking about a thesis written when James was still in school. It did exactly as Oobleck said, taking a purely cold, calculating approach to the costs and benefits of settlements. Including a frank calculation of the positive impacts when such settlements fall to the Grimm. His professor at the time gave him a strange look, but James gave much the same argument for its validity as Oobleck just did. Even though it was bollocks.

Also. Unfortunate fact about Bartholomew Oobleck. He has a tendency to spray when he speaks. And he speaks a lot.

More staff file into the room, Professor Peach giving me a look of mild disdain as she walks past. Why– Oh. She had a thing with the man I’m replacing. How unfortunate for her.

“Everyone here?” Glynda asks as she enters the room. Ozpin isn’t present so I assume he won’t be. “Good. Shall we get underway? First, I believe we should all give a warm welcome to our newest colleague. Professor James Moriarty, who will be taking over as our new Law and Procedure professor.”

Polite applause from most, forced applause from Peach. “Thank you, I shall go to great pains to live up to the position I have been given.”

“Next, here is the roster of prospective first year students who will be undergoing initiation next week.” The screen in front of me fills with a wall of faces. Predominantly female.

“Oho! It seems the fairer sex are arriving in force this year!” Port bellows. “We must endeavour to see each and every one become fine huntresses!”

I smile as I look over the roster. The faces I’m familiar with from my past lives. The ones I’ve met in this one. What a wonderful time I will have.