Easter.  It had been Easter when Gerlinde had first seen so perfect an icon - Saint Agatha, she thought - so exquisitely fine of feature, so sublimely lovely, that it had filled her heart to brimming with a peace like holy water.  She fixed that image in her mind - the snowball face, the gentleness of the lips, the temperate, timeless heaven of the blue eyes.<br/><br/>Gerlinde tried to look like that now, for Lisle kitty.  She tried to look like Easter.<br/><br/>"You will not, Lisle kitty.  You will only for one person, and she will keep you in a blanket just as nice as that one, and feed you what you like, and you can sleep in warm places all day."<br/><br/>Inside, she felt like crucifixion.<br/><br/>Bile queued up sour and simmering behind some tears in her throat.  Heart trying to tear the bars out of its cell.  Cock a piece of burst tire.  Skin just a sack of shapely rubber.  Sick.  Everywhere sick.<br/><br/>She smiled the kind of smile that could sweeten tea with a look.  Gerlinde's hand released and ran down Lisle kitty's head, petting her hair back into place, just as fluid and smooth as when she had put bath water on her before.  The hand had a rhythm that was good and true.<br/><br/>Inside, she felt like nothing fit and was tossing about like snapped tendon.<br/><br/>Nothing fit, because she had almost certainly lied.  Lying was bad enough to someone who at least enjoyed amorously flirting with the truth, as Gerlinde did.  In this instance, it was worse.  She had almost certainly lied to Lisle kitty.  She did it so well, it required a good measure of lying to herself.<br/><br/>And lying meant something far more horrible than a perversion of truth.  It meant that she was not powerful enough to be honest.  A powerful person would face the truth.  They would change it to suit their needs or they would overcome it.  They would at least suffer it.<br/><br/>Lying meant Gerlinde's power was slipping.<br/><br/>She nuzzled Lisle kitty's face.  "You go slide into bed.  I just need to see to something, then I will be in."<br/><br/>The smile spread.  The sick feeling inside spread faster.  Gerlinde gazed potently into Lisle, sipping her pussy scent from the air and stroking bold.  And to the green she saw, she showed only confidence.<br/><br/>In that green reflection, she could almost begin to believe her lie as it resolved with bright, hopeful clarity.  She wanted to.  But she would need to clear some of the poison, sick and sourness from inside before she cleared her thoughts enough to figure out how to turn that believed lie into a truth.<br/><br/>