Supercalifragisadistic

Just a spoonful of sugar helps the arsenic go down, Mary Poppins merrily sang to herself, tucking a chestnut-colored lock behind her right ear. Dabbing her pinky with spit, the nanny - my grief, she hated that word!, but whatever got the job done - glued the strand into place with the saliva, then stepped back to survey her work.

Michael Banks was lying on his left side on the tarp - thank goodness her man friend always had the cloth available in his home! - his left arm in a weird position underneath his body. His strawberry-blonde hair covered most of his face, but Mary could still make out a small trail of spittle, descending from his bottom lip. His cheeks were also ruddy, indicating that he wasn't far from the edge.

Lying on her right side, Jane Banks' face was completely covered by her platinum locks, but Mary could still tell that the child had succumbed to the poison. Nevertheless, she bent down and checked the siblings for pulses. The thumping of blood underneath her white-gloved finger was soft but still somewhat strong, but that was good. She didn't want them completely dead before she could have her fun.

The arsenic go do-o-o-o-own, the arsenic go down, Mary whistled while she continued working. Wrapping the children enchilada-style in the dark green canvas, she went to the open door and beckoned for Bert to bring the truck over. The chimney-sweep positioned the truck, then helped Mary load them into the back. Hopping into the passenger seat up front, Mary arranged her navy blue coat around herself and stuck the small matching topper back on her head.

Putting the vehicle into gear, Bert furrowed his brow and asked Mary, "What do you do with the children, anyways?"

"Never you mind what I do with them, Bert. You just do as I asked and drive."

He frowned, but said no more and they drove silently on.

**************************************************

Arriving at the small abandoned warehouse where Mary had created her dream play-land, Bert helped her carry the children into the mid-sized playroom then, with a tip of his black cap, he was gone, probably off to remove all evidence of Mary and the children's visit.

Unwrapping the children, Mary carried them, one at a time, to the two dressing tables covered in burgundy cloth, which didn't do much to camouflage the blood, but she still liked it. Starting with Jane, she freed the youngster from her indigo naval uniform-style dress. Licking the girl's soft cheek, covered in a light peach fuzz, Mary felt a dampness in her loins. Oh, yes, the girl would do very nicely. But before she could start removing the child's undergarments, she heard a moan coming from the other table.

Rushing over, she saw John fighting to open his eyes and come to. Even though she was certain he couldn't do her any harm, she nonetheless didn't want his noises to interfere with her enjoyment of the female. Grabbing a hammer from a nearby table, she struck him once, twice, thrice upon his temple. He fell silent. Waiting a moment, she took the dirty glove from her hand and felt for a pulse. There was none. She sighed, thinking of the things she had wanted to do to him when it was his turn. Alas, she thought, life does not always give one what one wishes. Leaving his body, she went back to Jane.

Jane too was attempting to come to, which was fine with Mary, as her ministrations brought her all the more pleasure when her victims were partly aware of what was happening. That was why she used juuuust enough poison during the course of a few weeks that another dosage would knock them out, but not kill them off just yet. They usually awoke after a few hours, which was just the time she needed to get them into position. She had noticed the signs of impending semi-consciousness during the last few days and guessed, correctly, that this dosage would be the one.

Tossing away the bloody glove and her hat - now was no time for neatness - Mary took the straps from the sides of the table and buckled them around the girl's form, making sure to leave the area around her privates loose. Leaning close to the child, Mary crooned in her ear, "Hello, Jane. It's playtime. I have another game for you!" Chuckling and grabbing a pair of scissors from the adjoining table, Mary then proceeded to cut the child's underwear from her body. She looked in wonder at the girls hairless mound. Though she had seen many, it still always took her breath away when she saw a new, unused pussy. Wiping the light perspiration from her brow, she picked up a small wooden mallet and began...

Later that night, Mary sat on the side her bed - decked out in all black cotton; sheets, pillowcases, everything - remembering her time with Jane. The girl had whimpered and whined during her examination, but that just got Mary all the more excited. She'd barely been able to keep from poppins-off in orgasmic splendor until Jane had screamed in torment, causing herself to scream in pleasure as she was overcome with tremors. Too bad playtime had left the child completely unusable afterwards; she was one she would like to have had an encore with.

Picking the evening paper up from the other side of the bed and leaning against her pillows, Mary began looking for the newest 'Nanny Wanted' ads.