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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 11 Beliefs, Promises, Agreements & Lies

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 11 Beliefs, Promises, Agreements & Lies 

Amara and Stavros had been on the road almost three days. Starting from Craiova they drove the five ton to Krakow, or at least a farm just outside, where they located the barn and the three statues, the heaviest of which was fifty kilos. Amara was thankful that she had chosen Stavros, who was young, large and strong.

They then drove to a warehouse in the city where they loaded the truck with boxes of legitimate electronics, which they would need for the border crossings, as they were headed for Germany.

Now, nearing the end of their journey, they were approaching Stuttgart, and the estate of a wealthy German industrialist who had bought the three statues. Doukas had paid Sabău fourteen million American dollars for the three stone images of Christ and a property in New Jersey. The property wasn’t worth much in the overall scheme, but gave the business the appearance of a legitimate transaction. He sent the paperwork to Nicole, which Amara noted. She also noted the smile on Doukas’s face.

Today, the German would transfer twenty-four million American dollars into one of Doukas’s accounts, as well as a property in Germany, near Berlin.

“Stop here,” Amara said, and Stavros pulled over as Amara looked closely at her GPS. “Ok, just up there.” They were in an area of estates and the villas had German names on the signs, not numbers. They found the one that translated to ‘Wolf’s Lair’ (charming, Amara thought) and pulled up to the gate.

Twenty minutes later the truck was exiting the grounds and Doukas was millions of dollars ahead; if it mattered, Amara pondered. She had noted the clear evidence that Herr Busch was a closet Nazi; and that disturbed her.

“Let it go,” Stavros said in Greek. “What difference does it make to you who has the fucking statues. They’re just stone statues.”

But Amara knew that wasn’t the case. They were created by a Jewish artist and had meaning for the Jewish people. She knew her discussion with Gilad would be different from Stavros.

“I’m starved,” was Amara’s reply.

Two hours later, they had found a hotel and then a restaurant in Stuttgart. They were lounging with German coffees after just consuming two pitchers of German beer to wash down large portions of pork Schnitzel and dumplings; followed of course by chocolate cake.

Two hours later, Amara lay beside the large, sleeping form of Stavros. Earlier he had pounded her to her satisfaction for over an hour. “Young and strong,” she said to herself. I needed that, she thought, although at that moment the image of Nicole, lying naked with her hands tied over her head, came to her.

Some day, before too long.

Amara leaned against the solid mass beside her and slept.

****

“Hello Am,” the deep voice of Gilad answered the early morning call, “I was planning on calling you, so thanks.”

“Yeah, it has been a few weeks.”

“Things in this business move very slowly,” Gilad noted. “I’m hoping you have something.”

“I do.” And Amara told him of all the dealings with the statues; Gilad listening intently apart from an uttered profanity here and there.

“A Nazi, son-of-a-bitch, it would be. Those bastards will never let it go.”

“I agree,” Amara said without emotion. She could understand Gilad’s reaction; time does not heal all things. But her dealings with Germans over the years had mostly been positive. Nazis on the other hand; they would always be bad news.

“I would like to pay this Mr. Busch a call.” Gilad said.

“You can’t; not yet. I am the only one who knows of him so Doukas would know I betrayed him. It is not time; you must be patient.”

Gilad grunted.

“After all,” Amara noted, “it has been over seventy years. A few months more is not too hard to bear.”

****

Susan and Beth were out walking in Sorrento. They had stopped and were looking north over the Bay of Naples. Although it was October, the days were still mild here, by the sea. “This is lovely, my sweet,” Beth said, wrapping an arm around the waist of her ‘pet’. “We’ve been here what, three weeks?”

“Three,” Susan agreed, resting her head on the other’s shoulder.

“I’ve seen these cliffs and ravines every day for three weeks, yet when I look at them, I’m still moved.”

“Speaking of moved, maybe we should move here?”

Beth looked at her, “Are you being serious?”

“It is peaceful and lovely and it’s like two hours to drive to Rome. We could probably buy a little villa. You could throw parties.” Susan winked.

Beth chuckled and smiled. “It sounds enticing, but I still need to make some more money. I’m not ready to retire just yet; but it is lovely; we have found this and enjoyed this. It certainly has appeal.”

They turned and walked in a leisurely fashion, soon reaching the Piazza Tasso, in the center of the town. They strolled among the mellow old buildings, past numerous little tourist boutiques until they came upon a restaurant that appealed to them. They were holding hands and unconcerned for the occasional stare. It was a wonderful holiday atmosphere. As they walked, Susan was remembering.

One week into their Italian trip, while still in Rome, Beth had taken her slave to a ‘party’, thrown by a long-time friend, former lover and, like Beth, a dominant. She had in the last year moved to Rome and was living on a splendid estate.

Beth and Roxanne had stayed in touch, aware of their similar tastes and needs. Roxanne was delighted when Beth called to say she would be coming to Italy with a new slave. Roxanne put the event together just for her.

Susan was remembering that weekend, for it ended up extending to Sunday evening from Friday night. There were twelve dominants invited: three couples, two solo males and four solo females. Everyone had a slave; the couples bringing two to ensure that.

It was Susan’s first time being naked and available as a slave in a group setting. Both Nicole and Beth had taken her to restaurants and there had been brief moments, but this was a slave party. Susan wore a collar with Beth’s name on it and nothing else, from Friday ‘til Sunday.

Over that time, the slaves were fondled, groped, spanked (no whippings) tied up, had objects inserted into all openings, made to have sex with each other and of course, fucked by all. Susan was amazed by a number of her reactions. She was amazed at how incredibly aroused she was just by being part of it; she was amazed at enjoying being fucked by a man, although having Beth watching was what made it work for her. She was amazed by her number or orgasms; she had lost track, but knew it was seven or eight ‘good’ ones and a number of briefer, less intense but still pleasant ones.

When it was over, Susan had spent Monday just lying around, recovering. “We need to give that pussy a rest,” Beth had smiled and Susan had agreed, although thinking of doing it again got her excited. “So how did you like being fucked by an actual penis, attached to a man?” Beth asked, the smile still on her face.

“If you hadn’t been there, it would have been different; that I believe. But from an arousal, um, sense, I liked it. A lot, really. I need to remember, not every man is as lame as Roland, bless his heart. But forget me, what about you? You seemed to enjoy your um, fucking.” Susan laughed, remembering Beth at one point having one man humping her energetically from behind as she sucked the cock of a man in front.

Both men had their partners watching, and Susan was bound, kneeling, beside her mistress so she could observe the cock sliding in and out of the hole she worshipped. “I liked it, but again, you were there and that excited me no end. Remember, sweetie, I was married for four years to a man who had one of those penis things. The first two years the sex was really good, so I’m not down on men. Or penises. I prefer women; or, certain women.”

Beth had then come over and planted a kiss on Susan’s vagina. “Like you,” she laughed.

Since that weekend, it had just been the two of them, sometimes hot sex, but generally just being together and being close; touching, kissing. Tenderness, Susan would describe it as. Like tonight, just walking together and talking and touching; being close. It was wonderful.

I am so, so, so lucky, Susan told herself several times.

Now they had finished a lovely, shared seafood platter and were finishing their wine when Beth looked across the table and asked, “Still miss Nicole?”

Susan looked back at Beth, who looked enchanting with the sun now highlighting her blonde head. She pondered. She could say several things, but she said the truth. “No, I don’t miss Nicole. I have lovely memories of her. But I have you. Or, you have me, whatever works. I am so lucky,” she said, her thoughts now out there with the early evening calls of the seabirds and the warm glow of being with someone you care for deeply.

****

Hailey was tied down on a bench; there was a thin cushion covering the bench, but the main idea was that she be at a certain height. She had a blindfold over her eyes because someone thought that would be cool; it wouldn’t have mattered because she had only previously seen one of the five black girls that were taking turns using a strap-on with her.

Roshana, the black girl Hailey had licked to orgasm in the park several weeks back, was familiar. Alexis had enjoyed watching her slave used by a ‘black ho’ and had made contact with the girl, bringing her once to Hailey’s house and once to her own.

The sessions that followed, to Hailey’s mind anyway, had been more intense but less pleasurable. The idea of being used and abused was no longer arousing to her; Hailey wasn’t sure why and wasn’t sure what to say to Alexis, which was why she was now in this position, being gang-banged by a group of black girls.

As Roshana had advertised it to her squad, ‘bring your fav dildo and use it on a white bitch’. It was now an hour in and everyone had had at least one turn and  Hailey had just been turned over and everyone would have a second go.

Alexis was over to one side of the room where she could see everything. One of the black girls was eating her out as well, which was the price she had charged. Each girl who wanted to ‘hump the ho’ had to go down on her, too.

“Uhhhh, ummmm,” Alexis moaned. “Black girls know how to eat pussy!” she yelled out.

“True dat,” Violet, a tall, slim girl called back, as she slowly forced her stubby four-inch black phallus into Hailey’s dark, brown hole. “An’ we knows how to fuck good, too. Specially white ho’s.”

The girls who had them raised beers; everyone hooted.

****

Nicole considered carefully as she wrote a note to (that bitch) Sheffield. The note and some papers were going back to Doukas; some legal matter, and Nicole was taking this opportunity to pursue the issue of Tatjana. What she wanted was for the girl to be left in her care for the next year or two; clearly Doukas realized there was something ‘off’ with her and it was a risk dealing her somewhere else. Nicole was prepared to look after her; she just wanted it confirmed.

Nicole walked the envelope down to Dani’s desk. “Hey there.” Dani greeted her as Nicole passed the envelope over. Through the door to her right, Nicole noticed Peter van der Strom’s wife in his office with him. This was unusual.

“Hi yourself. Can you get this away for me?”

“Sure, Ms. W.” Dani smiled.

“So, what’s going on with the boss’s wife? She’s never in.” Nicole nodded toward the office.

Dani looked through the glass partition. “Not sure, but Mr. VDS got calls this morning and he’s headed over to London.”

The next several moments had Dani filling Nicole in on a Dionysus development involving the need for a partner and concerning some major European business. Peter was handling it himself, and would be gone for several days. “I think Geneva is just here picking up some stuff that needs dealing with.”

Nicole had always found Geneva attractive, even though she was far from a classic beauty. She was about Nicole’s height and slim; ‘delicate’ Nicole would describe the woman, with modest breasts and what would likely be called mousey, uninspired hair worn long.

But what had attracted Nicole were the woman’s eyes; and her demeanor. The eyes were enchanting and the demeanor was definitely submissive and Nicole could smell the woman’s need across a room; she was begging to be dominated, but obsessed-with-work and generally clueless Peter would not have recognized the cues if Geneva was wearing a ‘spank me’ sign. At least that was Nicole’s opinion.

She now noticed Dani was…watching her. “What’s with you?” She asked the assistant, who was now sitting with a definite smirk on her face.

“Looking for a replacement for Susan?” Dani asked quietly.

Slightly taken aback (she thought Susan and her had been very discreet) Nicole said, “What are you on about, girl?”

Dani laughed, “Don’t street-talk me, girl-yourself. As if I didn’t know.”

Nicole waited, her heart now pounding; why? “What do you know, kiddo?”

“It’s okay, Nicole. I’m your pal, so no need to go all Daniel Craig on me.”

Nicole continued to just look; unsure of how to handle this.

Dani sighed, smiled and began. “Okay, let’s get this down. A, Nicole is a lesbian; B, Nicole seduces boss and makes her, her girl-toy; C, something happens, now boss is gone, and D, Nicole is now looking around for a new fun and games gal. Oh look, if it isn’t other boss’s pretty and quiet little ‘wifey’, hmmmm, maybe? How am I doin’, girl?” Dani smiled and reached out to rest her hand on top of Nicole’s. “It’s okay. Really. I’m cool with it all. Everything.”

“And you’re good with hanging out with the lesbo?” Nicole smiled.

“Hey, I have my man. I’m good. I got all the lovin’ I can handle; but I like you as a gal-pal, so sure, we’ll hang. No worries, I say.”

At that moment, Geneva came out and started down the hall, but stopped when she saw Nicole. “Oh, Ms. Martin. I was just going to see you.”

“Great, Mrs. V. Let’s grab one of these empty rooms.” As she steered van der Strom to a door, Nicole caught Dani’s face and the wink she gave, forcing Nicole to stifle a laugh.

****

When Nicole arrived home, Tatjana came out to greet her, taking her coat and briefcase and scurrying off. As she passed the den, she noticed Hailey sitting quietly in the room and paused by the door. “Hey, kid, what’s up?’ Nicole asked.

Hailey looked up with a sad face and asked, “Nicole, can I talk with you?”

“Sure, Hails,” Nicole answered and for the next fifteen minutes Hailey talked and Nicole listened. It was sort of your regular teen-angst situation, except that Hailey’s was complicated by being in a dominant / submissive love relationship, not really regular at all for the average senior. The bottom-line was that there was certainly something in the submission act which Hailey found compelling, but the problem was she was in a relationship with an inexperienced girl who was just trying things out like the proverbial kid in the candy store.

Hailey was being used and abused for Alexis’s pleasure, and she didn’t like it, which meant she had to question her feelings. “How can you be sure of what, like, um, you feel? For real, you know?” she asked, sounding like a girl again, rather than the attractive eighteen-year-old young woman she had developed into.

“So, what do you want to happen, Hails?” Nicole asked, not unkindly. Hailey was quiet for a few moments. Nicole persisted, “Do you want to end this thing with Alexis?” Hailey slowly nodded her head. “You need to tell me so I am sure that this is coming from you.”

Hailey sighed. “Love is hard, hey, Nicole?”

“Yeah, Hailey, in some ways, yeah. But, I’m not sure this is love, y’know. It’s easy to mix up, um, desire with love, ‘cuz the media is always kind of showing them to be the same. It’s what we hear, all the time. But what Alexis did to you tonight, even though you have no physical, um, damage well…that’s not love.”

Hailey nodded her head. “You’re right, Nicole. You’re right. And I do want to end this, um, thing with Alexis. But um, I’m not sure how. She still, uh, has stuff here and everything….”

Nicole patted Hailey’s arm. “That’s okay. I’ll be your lawyer and look after everything.” She smiled and just then Tatjana brought in a glass of wine.

****

True to her word, next day being Saturday, Nicole summoned Alexis over and had her clothes piled in the entrance way. Alexis was not happy but Nicole was very convincing, and in the end, Alexis left; Hailey stayed in her room the whole time.

Afterwards, she admitted to being a little sad, but relieved.

Get used to it kid, Nicole thought, you got a lot of years left.

****

In a small park in downtown Paris, the distinguished looking gentleman was sitting and apparently reading a paper. He did not look at the man who came and sat at the end of the bench. That man took out his own paper, and then spoke. “Gryba wants to wait until after the shareholders meeting in December. He has a point. Ousting Doukas now could cause uncertainty, and that makes the masses upset.

The first man sighed. It was not an argument he would win; the writing, as they say, was on the wall. “Fine. I understand. But we need to be ready; I would suggest early January.”

“Agreed.” The second man left. Two pigeons fluttered down and pecked around the remaining man’s feet. “Sorry guys. I have nothing for you today. Not even crumbs.”

****

In the end, it was agreed; it was easier for Nicole to just go to the van der Stroms and pick up the documents that had been left for her to deal with. Peter van der Strom would be gone at least a week, and he needed Nicole to get onto these affairs Monday.

The Koning residence and the van der Stroms were not far apart. Nicole made the drive in ten minutes and was impressed with the curving drive that swept past mature trees and brought the visitor to the faux Tudor-style home, sitting formidably on a large lot.

Nicole made her way up the wide walk to the impressive oak doors, flanked by two marble lions. Her call was answered by a woman in a black outfit who nonetheless was the maid. She directed Nicole into a cozy den/office that had shelves of books, a large, wooden desk, a love seat and a chair. And a small table with probably twenty folders stacked on it.

Geneva came in wearing a modest light blue dress; her hair in a ponytail; looking younger than her forty-three years. “Good-day, Nicole, May I offer you something? Coffee, tea, water, juice?”

Or you, Nicole thought, but she smiled and said she was fine. She wouldn’t have minded a glass of wine, but it was Sunday morning at eleven, and that was likely not the best idea. They spent the next twenty minutes going over the instructions Peter had left and sorting out the files Nicole was to take. When all was sorted, Geneva said, “I hate to be inhospitable, there must be something to offer. Perhaps a glass of wine?”

Nicole looked at the woman. She was looking very, tantalizing today; her dress suited her slim form and gave her a very feminine aspect. “Actually, a glass of wine would be nice. I know it’s noon, but what the heck, hmmm?”

“I agree,” Geneva smiled and the maid was summoned, brought two glasses of red and announced she was now off.

“Right. That’s fine, Anita. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The two women sipped their wine and a sort of awkward silence fell over them; neither knowing the other really at all. In the end, a question of children got them talking.

Eventually, Geneva asked, “So you are staying at Susan Koning’s and looking after her daughter. How is that going?”

After the chat about teens and challenges, Geneva, clearly not knowing much about ‘things’, innocently asked, “So, how is it that Susan asked you to do this and where has she gone?”

Nicole, with both of them finished their glass of wine, and Geneva just having refilled them and seeming like she was enjoying the companionship, decided to push the ‘envelope’.

“Susan and I were lovers, Geneva. We are still friends. She has actually moved in with a woman, Beth Gulliver. So she asked if I could be her eyes on Hailey.” Nicole paused and sipped wine, as if she had just advised on stock options. Geneva sat in stunned silence. Nicole moved a little closer and spoke quietly. “It’s okay. I won’t bite. It’s nice, just talking, girl-to-girl, isn’t it?”

Geneva was slightly flustered, and smoothed her hair in a gesture she had. “Um, I guess that is all, uh, very surprising to me. I didn’t know you, um….”

“Liked women?” Nicole added.

Geneva laughed self-consciously and drank some wine; looked at Nicole and then looked away. Nicole continued, “I find that women understand other women in a way that men can’t. I have nothing against men; I’ve had male friends, but I just feel more comfortable with another woman. That’s the way it is. I, um, feel very comfortable with you, Geneva.” As she said this, Nicole brushed a finger along Geneva’s arm, causing the woman to flinch slightly, but she did not move away or object.

Nicole continued. “Be honest with me, Geneva, your sex

life with Peter isn’t much, is it? And you can’t really discuss it with anyone, can you?”

Geneva reddened and stuttered, “I, um, I don’t think that is something we should be speaking of….”

“Why?” Nicole asked, moving a little closer; her knee was now touching Geneva’s.

“Well, um we don’t really know each other….”

“But we do, Geneva. We know each other better than you know. Now humor me; is your sex with your husband fulfilling?”

Geneva gave a little snort, drank more wine and said, quietly, almost with relief, “We haven’t, um, made love in months. Peter is busy….”

Nicole brushed Geneva’s arm again and leaned in to speak quietly near her delicate ear, one that was adorned with two gold rings. “No excuses, Geneva. Peter has never been a good lover, you have gotten by, you have a wonderful home and have raised two children, but emotionally you are empty. You would love to have someone hold you and caress you, wouldn’t you?”

Geneva looked sad for a moment, as she nodded her head. Then Nicole kissed her gently on her neck and then the side of her face. Geneva closed her eyes, her breathing became more rapid. Nicole kissed the delicate ear again and Geneva sighed lightly. Nicole turned Geneva’s face and licked the woman’s lips; once, twice until Geneva followed, trying for a kiss; and then Nicole took the woman’s mouth with her own. They leaned back against the love seat, mouths working, Geneva’s hand was on Nicole’s arm.

“Do you like this, Geneva?” Nicole ran her tongue along Geneva’s throat and attacked the mouth once again, releasing her prey to speak.

“Ummmmmm. Oh, y-yes, uhhh-mmmm. Oh yes, yes I do.”

(End of Chapter 11)

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