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A House of Slaves by LongDarkRoad Chapter 10 Promises

A House of Slaves  

Chapter 10 Promises (The key to the thing.)

Brandon and Jake had gone outside while Aquina made some more coffee and had Kate make Jake’s breakfast. Although Jake was not happy about what he was agreeing to, he shook on it; with the condition that they talk again in two weeks. He wasn’t giving Melissa up without some fight.

As that was going on, Aquina got Melissa ready and took her to Mrs. Belvedere’s friend’s place, a very stylish home on the north side, with the agreement to pick her up Sunday morning. Melissa had murmured, when given permission, that her world was ‘upside down’.

“But some parts are…not so bad, hmmm?” Aquina had asked with a quick side-ways glance.

Melissa had sat in silence for a while before saying softly, “No…Mistress,” then shaking her head in disbelief at it all, but mostly at herself. She was no longer a virgin, which should have enraged her, but she had really enjoyed being with Mrs. B; and she had actually liked the sex. Too bizarre for words.

“But what these men are doing is still wrong,” she said softly, casting her own quick glance at Aquina, who sighed. Of course they were wrong, but they were in control.

Aquina then travelled to the apartment and picked up Mindi and Heather. “Will that smelly police guy be there tonight?” was Heather’s first question.

“No, Dzyuba won’t be there,” Aquina assured her.

“Phew, that’s great. What a pig.”

Both young women nodded.

****

The night had been pleasant, and productive once again. It was now past midnight, and Abrahmson was settled in one bedroom with Anna; Mindi and Heather were in another and Kevin was on the couch in Aquina’s den/office. Jake had gone back to his place.

Aquina and Brandon were relaxing on the main couch with a glass of Jack Daniels. Aquina took a drag of her slim cigar, and spoke as she let the smoke drift off.

“Abrahmson is good to go; he knows about Sanders’s daughter, at least he knows where she is being held. He personally has not been assigned to assist the ADA, but the staff are all in one office and files are not hard to find; there are hard copies on everything. He will talk to me on Monday; I’ll get the eighty grand ready and we can bring everyone in to this when it makes sense.

“Sounds good, hmmmn…” Brandon chuckled, softly, “this is pretty much what I had in mind when I first started talking to you; skimming low-level druggies wasn’t my dream; it was about getting an opportunity with people who had connections and…well, power, maybe. Money, certainly.” He sipped his drink. “But now, it’s happening, and I’m actually a little nervous.”

“That’s okay, it’s a gamble. Gambling should make you nervous.” She sipped her drink. ”But, if that deal makes you nervous, or legal assistants snooping around makes you nervous, then what I’m going to propose for our two hundred k might get you…hyperventilating.”

Brandon looked at Aquina; she was always full of surprises.

Hyperventilating? WTF?

****

Melissa sat on the old-style veranda, a cool drink by her side, waiting for Aquina. Mrs. Grant, or ‘The Duchess’ as she enjoyed being called, had left her there with a kiss on the cheek. Melissa marvelled at what she had experienced in just over a week. She had, so few days ago, been an innocent recluse from the world of sexuality. Then she had essentially been abducted and imprisoned.

Now, she had become someone who was engaged in what she would only have once considered ‘bizarre’ activities; something she would not even have read about. She shook her head in wonder and sipped her drink.

The Duchess, a late forties woman of average height, just beginning to add a little weight around her mid-section and hips, with a hint of grey showing on her dark, sweeping hair, enjoyed receiving more than giving, at least in the bedroom.

She had begun their session by stripping Melissa and having her pose while she undressed herself, and then herding her into an oversized and elegant shower. Here she had taken her time soaping Melissa down, paying extra special attention to her ass and then her anus, which she ended up ‘licking clean’ as she described it. Melissa shook her head thinking how she would have reacted just a couple of weeks ago if someone had tried to even look at her ‘down there place’.

After their shower, ‘The Duchess’ had placed herself over Melissa’s knees, hands now tied behind her, as Melissa administered a spanking with a wooden paddle; timidly at first, but much more emphatically as the ‘maid’, dressed severely in black standing by, urged her on.

Having finished that task, Melissa was fitted with a harness sporting a large (nine inch) black dildo that looked amazingly life-like with details like veins, etcetera on its rubbery but firm surface. Melissa was guided into The Duchess’s vagina by the ‘maid’ and fucked the woman enthusiastically from behind. After helping the woman achieve one orgasm that way, Melissa’s ‘cock’ was exchanged for a smaller, white one which was forced into The Duchess’s ass. The ‘maid’, who Melissa came to believe was not really a maid, took cell photos and a video of the event.

A short while later, Melissa and the ‘maid’, both naked, sat on a couch eating fresh strawberries and cream as The Duchess licked their feet, all the while the video of her being fucked by Melissa was running on a large screen television which they watched with interest.

Melissa was astonished at…herself; one image where she was gripping the woman’s torso and pounding her hips against the woman’s round bottom was most alarming. Who was that woman? Melissa asked herself.

After the two women had finished their treat, a dessert following an excellent dinner, The Duchess was then chained by her collar to the bedpost of a magnificent four-poster, her hands tied again behind her, while Melissa and the maid had another long shower.

The two then climbed into the vast and impressive bed (first time in over a week that Melissa would sleep on a mattress) and they slept together. Melissa’s hands were fastened in front of her and the ‘maid’ was now sporting a similar black dildo, smaller at seven inches, which she fucked Melissa with off and on throughout the night.  

At one point, about four-thirty in the early morning, Melissa informed her companion that she needed to urinate. She was led out of the bed and made to stand beside it; The Duchess was awoken with a kick to her rear, and positioned below Melissa’s crotch. Embarrassed as she was, Melissa was finally able to go, and The Duchess moved adroitly to place her mouth below the warm and aromatic, yellow stream, catching most of it and swallowing it down, much to Melissa’s disgust (but she admitted to herself, also her fascination.)

The Duchess then dutifully licked Melissa’s pussy clean, snaking her tongue into the folds and sucking them into her mouth, with the maid watching and commenting on how disgusting the woman was. Both women then returned to bed and slept well for several more hours.

At eight Melissa awoke, alone. She was served breakfast in bed by (likely) the real maid, and allowed to dress and then taken to the front and Mrs. Grant, where she now waited, amazed and astonished at what she had experienced and at how enthusiastic she had, at times, been.

What was happening to her?? Why wasn’t she fighting this?? But, her comment to Aquina was still true, she considered, despite how she had changed.

At that moment, her mistress pulled up. Once in the car, Melissa handed the woman an envelope, as before. This one held three grand. Aquina smiled to herself and had Melissa tell her in detail the events of her session as they drove home.

“What you said, about the men, I get that, but I am trying…to make things better,” Aquina said, quietly, once Melissa was done with her tale.

“I don’t blame you for this,” Melissa finally murmured, Aquina surprised by the pleasant jolt those words gave her.

****

Back at the house, Aquina placed Melissa into her crate. Kate and Anna were at work scrubbing floors and cleaning bathrooms. Kevin had picked up Mindi and Heather, who were dressed casually today in jeans and tops, and the two girls were playing video games with him and Eric, the two men at times distracting the girls by squeezing their breasts, and then hooting like fools.

It’s like they’re still fifteen, Aquina thought to herself, but at least with everyone busy she and Brandon could talk.

They settled with coffees in Aquina’s den/office and Aquina began by producing the money Melissa had earned. Brandon just smiled, “Holy shit,” he exclaimed, “who woulda’ thought?”

“I know,“ Aquina agreed, “this won’t last for ever; this is a very unique clientele; but there is one more lady for sure and then Belvedere wants her back, so…” her voice trailed off.

“Ok, that’s good; now, how about this plan of yours, the one that will make me…hyperventilate, you said?”

Aquina smiled and began; going on for twenty minutes or so, with the summary being this. A month or so back Brandon, who functioned as the squad’s duty roster officer, had noticed when he was going through ‘the availability’ sheets, that one man, Derek Fielding, was never available the second and fourth Thursday evenings of each month.

That was as interested as Brandon got with this curiosity, but Aquina’s interest was piqued; stuff happened for a reason; she liked to know why. Over her time in town, Aquina had collected a group of individuals that functioned as informants, snitches, spies, surveillance, muscle, role-play…whatever. She had people for most any shady job, and she had used some to trail Fielding. Since he made absolutely no effort to throw anyone off, the job was extremely easy.

Every second Thursday, Fielding would go to a small, family-run jeweller downtown, meet someone (one of the jeweller’s sons it turned out) and escort them across town, to a diner on the west side. In the diner the two men would have a coffee and simply turn around and go back; leaving behind a large, taped envelope on the seat in the diner.

Since the second time Fielding was followed was exactly the same as the first, including which booth they sat in at the diner, this was clearly a drop of some kind. Surveying the jeweller, Jakob Schemmler & Sons, Aquina’s spies found that the day after the envelope drop, a no-nonsense ‘gangster’ guy would show up at the store and do nothing, except leave a briefcase. Interesting.

Aquina did not need any help to figure this out: Schemmler was selling diamonds (what else) ‘under the table’ and away from the IRS; and he was selling to some organized crime guy who was laundering money. It was a deal that clearly worked for both and had been going on for some time; the records for Fielding went back a year, so it was at least that long. And now they had become sloppy.

Aquina’s plan was to do a simple envelope switch, but for that, she would need more info, and that info would come from Derek Fielding, or at least, his computer.

The key to the thing for Aquina was that Schemmler’s store had security cams and Brandon’s department would be able to access them; hopefully last Thursday/Friday would still be on there. But they didn’t want the cam’s access leading back to Brandon or any of the boys; so they would use Fielding’s computer. That made sense, except every officer had their own password to access the department web or things like security cams.

“Okay,” Brandon had pointed out, “there’s our problem.” Aquina just sat with a little smile on her face. “What?” Brandon pressed her.

Aquina turned to her lap top, and brought up the feed from the camera Brandon had installed in the squad room so they could monitor Kate. The screen showed Kate sitting at her desk. “Okay?” Brandon stated again.

“Look closely, B. Whose desk is that beside Kate’s, and facing the camera?” Aquina smiled.

“Holy fuck. That’s Fielding’s station. Fuck!” On the screen then appeared the large frame of Derek Fielding, as he settled himself in front of his computer. As he typed in his entry, several of the keys could be seen as he struck them, (he used the hunt and bash method of typing) but some could not.

“Here,” Aquina held up a paper. “Let me help. We got Pr_n__ss_”

“Princess?” Brandon offered.

“The family dog; I checked. But there’s a character at the end. But let’s look back…” Aquina replied.

They watched again, freezing the feed when Fielding struck the last key; it was on the left side of the keyboard and he did not press ‘shift’.

“One,” Brandon offered.

“I think so, Princess1” Aquina smiled.

“Holy Fuck.”

****

Adam Abrahmson sat at his desk in the office area he shared with seven other assistants. Three senior First Assistants had their own offices directly behind this group area, with a corridor separating them. The corridor led to offices of the actual Assistant District Attorneys. The DA herself had an office on the floor above.

Mondays were always busy and there was much hustle and bustle going on around to distract him, but Adam was already distracted, thinking back to his last time with the slave girl, who he now knew was named Anna. Anna, a gentle name for a wonderfully gentle woman, who he had been allowed to have sex with on Saturday.

Complete sex. A blow job and a fuck; several fucks in fact, as she was allowed to spend the entire night with him. It was the first time he had slept with a woman, actually slept a night, in over five years. Whenever he woke up, and saw her sleeping peacefully beside him, he was filled with a wonder that was painful; even now, he was getting sharp stabs of…something, whenever he recalled her. Was this…love? Holy damn.

Who knew; but Adam did know something, and that was that he wanted to follow this…relationship(?) as long and as far as he could; even if that meant doing something illegal or completely misreading this woman; she was a whore, after all.

Right now he was on the trail of Moira Williamson’s file. He knew whose office it likely was in, so that meant which junior assistant would be holding it. He just needed patience; and he had things to occupy his time, as long as he could keep Anna out of his head.

****

It was after one when Aquina’s burner buzzed a text message; it was the lawyer Adam asking her to meet him at one-thirty in a small park near the justice building.

When she arrived, the park was fairly busy with people playing chess or eating a late lunch or whatever, but Aquina found an empty bench near the south entrance and sat and waited. It wasn’t long before she saw the slight, black trench-coated figure of Abrahmson approaching.

Like he was in some spy movie, he sat at the opposite end of the bench from her and turned away, tossing some seed or something to the pigeons gathered nearby. As he did this he talked. “So, this situation is fairly complicated, but the important point is that Moira is basically being held against her will; she has not been allowed counsel and so there has been no bail hearing.”

“That’s…illegal, isn’t it?” Aquina ventured.

“Absolutely,” Abrahmson replied.

“So how are they, or the ADA, getting away with it?”

Abrahmson paused, considering his response, “Well, I think it’s because she is very young, she actually just turned eighteen while in custody, and they are controlling her through fear and, well, lies.”

“That makes no sense; why do that to some…kid? What’s this really about?”

And that was the deal, as Abrahmson explained. Moira was caught in a legal wrestling match. It went from her to her ‘boyfriend’, Billy ‘Weasel’ Gustof, to a fairly high level criminal figure in Jack Melankoff.

Melankoff ran drugs, weapons and white slaves out of the north eastern U.S., and law enforcement had been trying for at least eight years to nail him in any number of ways. Apparently, or so Abrahmson’s ADA believed, Melankoff had used Gustof, a nephew of his as it turned out, to ‘look after a guy’, and Gustof had panicked and shot the man dead.

Gustof then fled to his girlfriend’s place and had her keep his gun for him. The girlfriend being Moira, who the police were able to track quite easily as it turned out, finding the gun, tying it immediately to Gustoff and the shooting, and then through a wiretap and phone trace, back directly to Melankoff.

However, Gustof was knifed to death in holding before

he could testify and the wiretap was in dispute, so the ADA was holding on to Moira as the only living link left in the chain. She was ‘in protective custody’, but in fact she was in jail.

“So what’s…our plan?” Aquina asked.

“Does Moira actually have a lawyer?”

“Well, no. Not yet. We have not put that in place because of not knowing what the hell was going on. But we can get a lawyer; a good one, easily. How soon can we act?”

Abrahmson stood, looking off to the east. “Have the lawyer show up at our offices; if he or she is good they’ll know the ins and outs. They will show legal representation and demand to see their client. That should get the ball rolling…nicely.” He chuckled as he turned to head off. “There will be some howling, I’m sure.”

Aquina’s next phone call was to Sanders McHugh.

****      ****      ****

She sat in one of the leather armchairs, a glass of bourbon with ice pressed against her temple. It was almost midnight, so Brandon had gone to bed; he had just left, actually, but Aquina could still see his face when she closed her eyes, with his, as he described it, ‘big shit-eating grin’ plastered across it.

Before her on the floor sat an open briefcase filled with neat stacks of twenties and hundreds; two hundred and eight thousand dollars, so much that some overflow sat in a money bag beside the case. It had gone so well Aquina kept waiting for the ‘other shoe to fall’. But there would be no other shoe.

Using Fielding’s computer, they had been able to see how many ounces were in the drop, and how the diamonds were taped to a blank sheet. Aquina had then found some excellent fake diamonds through her many sources, and the sort of envelope used; even the type of painter’s tape that was sealed the unmarked packet.

One of her associates, a nondescript forty-year-old woman, had made the envelope switch, before passing it to a young skateboarding guy who in turn dropped the envelope in a trash can a block away, where Aquina retrieved it.

When the envelope with the fake diamonds made its way to the other side, there was much yelling and threats, but who was to blame? For his part, Fielding lost his freelance shotgun role, as Schimmler tried to plug his leak. In the end, he just chalked the loss up to experience and moved on, not wishing to waste time or money on some hunt for the miscreants. His sons had been telling him for weeks he should change his…schedule, but he had been too lazy. Now he would.

Aquina’s fence had given her the two-hundred eight grand, and then divided up the stones, having several placed in settings right away. In the end, the diamonds brought in over four hundred thousand, but Aquina did not care about that. She got the money she needed.

And Sanders got what he wanted, and was delighted. His lawyer pried Moira out of her legal box and Sanders met her, spent several hours with her, made peace to a large extent with her, and then sent her by private jet to Bolivia, where she could lay low for as long as it took. She was out of danger for now.

And tomorrow, Sanders would meet Aquina for dinner to celebrate, this money being couriered to him, and she and Brandon would have the break that could change their lives.

Down the hall from where Aquina sat, in the second bedroom, Adam Abrahmson cuddled Anna’s naked body against him. He slid a hand down her soft back to cup one buttock, as she softly kissed his throat and pressed her face against his neck. He was filled with an over whelming sense of…joy. That was the only word for it, and he crushed her to his chest.

It was all worth it.

****

Aquina came down the stairs in her black evening dress; dark, curly hair glossy and her face glowing. She had a (real) diamond necklace setting off her outfit. It seemed appropriate, and looked stunning.

Kevin, Brandon and Eric were all sitting around in the living area, with a naked Kate and Anna at their service. Being Friday night, Melissa was with another special client.

When Aquina entered the three men simply stared at her like she was some wild and exotic creature they had never seen. Anna, with her childlike perspective, spoke out. “You look beautiful, Mistress.”

Eric’s mouth was open, Brandon had a look of wonder on his face and Kevin let out a slow whistle before adding, “My God, who are you seeing tonight, the president?”

Aquina laughed and picked up her Burberry stole. “This meeting could open an awful lot of doors for us, gentlemen. Doors with good stuff behind them.” She motioned to Kevin and he followed her to the door. “Can you make sure Anna and Kate are seen to?”

“Sure thing, Aquina; you can always count on me. Actually, I think our little lawyer friend is coming over again; I think he has a thing for our, uh, little slave.”

“Well, he was very valuable to us, so that’s fine. What are you staring at?”

“Really Aquina? Really?? You, you crazy woman. Jeez. You are Fucking HOT. Fuck!” He slowly shook his head, and Aquina laughed and left, her cab was already waiting outside.

She was meeting Sanders at Aspiagia’s, one of the city’s finest restaurants, known for its menu and world-class service, as well as an extensive wine and spirits list. When she arrived she saw Sanders was already sitting at a prestige window table with a lake view. As she crossed the floor toward him, every head in the room literally turned to observe her. Sanders looked up and a slow, appreciative smile spread across his face.

He stood to greet her as a server sprang to pull back her chair.

“Holy Christ, are you somethin’,” he whispered in her ear as they embraced. She kissed him warmly on the cheek in response

“I take it you got the money?” she asked, taking her seat.

“Yeah, everything checks. And with that little, uh…favor you did me, well, we’ll move on this right away.”

****

Melissa lay on a four poster bed. It was large and impressive; the posts were mahogany, and silk scarves bound her wrists and ankles to the posts. Two women, both blond and petit at five-two, were busy working on her, meticulously scraping away any hair from anywhere on her body except her head and eyebrows. When they were satisfied, they oiled her body and then wiped and dried it carefully.

The women were Sally Forsythe and her daughter, Amanda. The two women looked very similar, and being mother and daughter that would not be surprising. It was surprising, however, because Amanda was Alexander Forsythe’s daughter from his first marriage, so Sally was actually the step-mother.

Their relationship was also most unusual, as was evident by the next series of events. Amanda bound Sally’s hands behind her, and then fastened a strap around Melissa’s waist, attaching it with a cord to a collar around Sally’s neck, and then drawing the cord tight so Sally’s face was pressed into Melissa’s crotch and held there.

“Lick, whore,” Amanda demanded of her step-mother, whose mouth immediately began to work on Melissa’s meaty vulva. Amanda was not satisfied, though, and she brought a bamboo cane down on Sally’s buttocks with a resounding, “Thwaaa-ack!”

With the resultant, “AAA-hhh!” from Sally’s lips, before she quickly pressed them back to her task.

“That’s it, Mother-Whore, lick that pussy like the filthy slut you are!”

Melissa lay with her eyes closed and a smile on her lips; oh brave new world that has such people in it, she mused, wanting to laugh out loud.

(End of Chapter 10)

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