A House of Slaves By LongDarkRoad
Chapter 22 So Easily It Returns (A little forgiveness)
Jake Tucker sat in his undershirt and boxers in front of his computer. He had a late shift today so had time now to do what he wanted. Right now he was looking at old videos; he had kept everything; ev-er-y-thing, he had ever recorded, of him doing whatever to different people, starting with the shots of ‘Ace’ Donval, right up to the videos of Anna. He had even taken Brandon’s ‘recordings’ when the man planned to delete them.
Right now he was watching some video ofthe two high school girls, JaylaUba andWanda Banik. After being abused, raped and threatened by Jake and Brandon, the two girls had done…nothing, which was what the boys had thought would be the case. The real test however would be the following Friday; the girls had been told to be at the very bench where they had been abused the previous week, at eight PM.
The video Jake was watching was from later on that Friday night, but what he was remembering was the feeling he had had as he and Brandon were driving to the spot. He was ‘on pins and needles’ until he saw the two girls, sitting obediently on the bench, waiting for their tormentors. Holy Fuck! Jake had shouted in jubilation and Brandon had laughed.
Brandon. Fuck, what had happened?? That Goddamn Aquina was what had happened. Oh well, Brandon had made his choice. And sometimes with choices, they end up being …wrong. Everything has its price. Yes, thought Jake, they would know that, for fucking sure.
Mary Johnson hesitated a moment and looked around the room. She’d need to make one more trip back, there were still a few items that she couldn’t fit in her bags; but she had clothes and personal things. She headed down to the front entrance; Pamela would be picking her up soon to take her to work.
And then tonight she would be going back to Pam’s house. Every time she thought of that, her heart raced. Why had she never thought about being with a woman before? Well, maybe she had, but not deeply enough.
Nine-thirty AM and Adam Abrahmson looked up from his desk as a courier entered. He signed for the letter and carefully opened it with his letter blade. Spreading it neatly on his desk, he inhaled sharply. It was the document he had prepared for Jake Tucker. And it had been signed. And witnessed. Oh my God, thought Adam. Oh my God.
Ten AM and Macgregor, feeling some unease, thought it was time to see what was up. She texted, “Dear Slut-Slave. I hear you have left without permission. Text back now. Your Mistress.” She pressed send and put the phone down and turned to her computer, checking some blood analysis reports for patients.
Aquina had made her way downstairs cautiously. She was glad then that all the slaves were ‘gone’; Melissa, Kate and Anna, who was at Adam’s now on a trial basis. They would likely be moving back into this house permanently, but Adam needed to deal with his aging mother who he cared for. The woman liked Anna however, so it worked out and today Anna was with her and Aquina had the house to herself. The pain had lessened but she still had some difficulty walking.
And she needed to get better in a hurry; as she was leaving for the Cayman’s on Thursday. Her phone buzzed with a text; from Macgregor. She looked at the name of the sender. She looked at the message. She felt; numb. No anger. No fear. Just numb. She sat and considered. ‘What to say’? What did she feel? Numb. She decided to ignore the text for now, and went to make herself some coffee and breakfast.
Ten-thirty AM her doorbell chimed and Aquina froze; could it be…? She made her way slowly to the door and opened it cautiously to…Bella.
“Oh hi. Hi. Hi! Please…come in.”
They embraced and Bella asked, “Feeling any better?”
Aquina grinned, shrugging her shoulders, “I’m still very banged up but it is a little better and that’s thanks to you. Thank you. Thank you. How can I ever repay you?”
“Oh stop that. I did the right thing. Thanks is good. Stop worrying about it and that’s an order.”
They smiled at each other for a moment. Bella continued. “I’ve just come along to say good-bye. I’m off to Europe?”
“Okay, yes; Arlana and I had a big fight and I think it’s better to just be away from her, for a while…”
Aquina interjected, “But that’s because of me; that’s not right, I…”
“Hey, let it go. Arlana was wrong and I did what was right; that’s that. It’s time for something else for me anyway; something away from here. I’m starting with Paris and working my way to Amsterdam, so don’t be worrying about me. This is good, and when I get back we can maybe get together.”
“Bella, thank you again. This is unbelievable.”
“Hey, you take care“, Bella said, and then looked at her. They separated and held hands for a moment, then Bella turned. “Good-bye, and see you later.”
“Good-bye. And good luck. Watch yourself in Amsterdam; the women are all gorgeous.” They laughed, and Bella turned and walked down the sidewalk to her waiting cab.
Aquina went inside; time for some more pain killers.
One PM, Aquina’s phone rang; an actual call was coming in. Looking, she saw it was Macgregor. She paused, considered and wavered briefly, then pressed ‘Decline’, and leaned back, an ice pack between her thighs, fighting emotions. She needed to think.
Two PM, the doorbell chimed again. And, once again, Aquina moved cautiously to the door. She opened it and this time, it was Shareen Macgregor. Aquina leaned against the door frame and regarded the woman; her pulse had quickened and a rush of emotions went through her that she fought to control, but she managed to speak calmly, although she still needed to look down.
Macgregor regarded her; Aquina looked up quickly; she was not quite sure of what was going on behind that expressionless face.
“You’re not going to invite me in?” Macgregor asked calmly.
Aquina paused; anger and sadness were vying for control; but this woman still had a hold on her, and she needed time to sort all this out. “I guess,” she said quietly.
A flicker of something showed briefly on Macgregor’s face. “I have something I want you to listen to,” she said quietly and came forward.
No mention so far from either of them of slave or mistress, but Aquina did feel the need for something from…this woman. Maybe answers; anything. Could she simply say goodbye to…her mistress? She opened the door wider and said. “Okay, come in.”
Macgregor preceded her and sat on a couch. She then watched as Aquina moved slowly to an armchair across from her. Macgregor seemed affected.
“You, ummmm, are hurting, no doubt.”
Aquina looked at Macgregor and held her emotions in place. She spoke with some care; but firmly and simply. “I hurt. I have injuries. I am bruised. You know, I was bleeding. My nipples were nailed to boards. You were there. You saw it.” Emotions now rising, Aquina looked at the other, then looked down.
Macgregor paused, gathering her thoughts, then placed a small black device on the table. “Please listen,” she said and started the recording. It was Aquina, speaking when they had met last week at the coffee shop.
“I want to serve you; to be on my knees, to bury my face in your sex. I want you to whip me, and punish me. I…I want you to. I…need that from…you. I want you to hurt me, to use me, to abuse me. I want others to see my devotion to you. I…love being your toy and your, um, slut, being degraded by you. It’s, it’s like a drug.”
“That was what you, mmm, wanted,” Macgregor spoke calmly.
Aquina gazed back, emotions within her still at war, but admitting to herself that she had said those things, so now what? “Okay, so you, mmm, recorded me, and now you’re playing that back…” Aquina said, her voice rising a little with emotion, but still keeping it together. At that moment she needed at least an acknowledgement of her suffering by this woman.
“To hurt me, to use me, to abuse me…those were your words, Aquina.”
“Yes,” Aquina said after a moment. She sighed, “Those were.” She sat, unable to face Macgregor, finally just saying, “I need to go lie down.” She stood painfully, and started slowly back up the stairs.
Macgregor called from below, “So you want me to just leave? That’s it?”
Aquina sighed; she still felt numb, she didn’t want to think of anything, really. Was this actually freedom, now, of a sort? She’d consider that later. She continued on up to her room, forcing herself not to look back, not to think of what she felt when she knelt before the woman waiting back downstairs. She settled in front of her computer.
She needed to occupy her mind, so she found the latest feed from Kwong and Mary. She pulled it up and began watching, when she heard movement and saw from the corner of her eye Macgregor come and lean against her door frame.
The woman spoke quietly. “I, mmm, I didn’t mean for you to be…injured, Aquina. Please…believe that.”
Aquina looked up at her, still finding it hard to speak openly. Where to go from here? “You saw what was happening. You did nothing. You didn’t even bother to check me later.”
“I, um, I tried to.”
Aquina sighed, wrestling with the emotions now rising. “Well, you didn’t, um, succeed. Someone else did. Someone else showed concern and helped me. It wasn’t you….” Aquina said quietly, forcing away the thought of wanting Macgregor to admit she was wrong, and to admit her affection for her ‘slave’, in some way.
But Macgregor stood leaning, head down, in silent thought. In a few moments she looked up, her face showed; sadness? Pain? Aquina wasn’t sure; she forced herself to focus again on the computer screen.
Finally the woman said it, “I am sorry,” Macgregor murmured quietly. “I am not sorry for putting you into that situation, it was what you wanted and asked for; I am sorry for not going to you. Checking on you. You are, were, my slave. You were my responsibility and you were hurt. Arlana told me that in the club, slaves must be left alone; they are property and must accept what is done to them. We, the women, cannot…feel for them. She and Maureen blocked my way when I tried to go back…”
Aquina sat still. She felt less empty but still resolved to stay this course, whatever it was, for now; she wasn’t sure about anything. She just needed time. Time. And space. “Well, I guess everyone makes choices…” her voice trailed off. This was harder than she expected, with her anger now gone.
“So…” Macgregor’s voice was barely above a whisper, “now what?”
Aquina lit one of her long, slim cigars, considering. “I need to be alone, mis…, um, Shareen,” she said simply. She needed to sort out her thoughts, and having Macgregor there made it hard; she was feeling pain within her now as well as the physical.
The two women looked at each other; Macgregor looked away. You could see she was struggling with her own thoughts. She then angrily brushed a tear from her eye and stared down, breathing hard. Aquina simply waited; what would Macgregor say? The tears, strangely, did affect her. She forced her mind from that.
Macgregor’s voice was small, almost choked when she spoke. “Okay, fine. Fine. Will you at least let me look at you, to…check your, um, injuries?”
“Thank you, Shareen, but I’m good, really. I just want my space, now. I need to think and heal…” Aquina said softly; there was no anger in her voice now; she actually felt no anger now with Macgregor or with anyone really. Just numbness.
“Okay,” Macgregor replied. Reaching into her handbag she pulled out a pad of paper, wrote something and pulled off the sheet handing it to Aquina. “It’s a pain prescription, better than what you probably have.”
Aquina looked at it, “Thank you,” she said, simply.
“Well.” Macgregor tried to smile. “I will let myself out.” Then she turned and left. Aquina listened and heard the door close, feeling a stab of something.
She put her head down on the desk, sadness now filling the void, Harriet Smith’s face appearing once again.
Claire moved her hand between her thighs. Sanders was out, again, and there was not a lot to do at the office. She had moved on in her porn viewing from women giving blow-jobs, to women doing things with other women.
She was watching now a video found under the search ‘White Slave Girls’. In the video a blonde was on her knees, a collar around her neck with a leash attached. A beautiful and dominating woman was holding the other end of the leash and the woman on her knees was looking up with devotion.
Claire squeezed her labia and moaned softly.
Brad Smithfield hung up his phone. He had just had a discussion with Clem Ridgeback, one of his IA team, and a guy who had tried a sting on Brandon Park and his officer friends (Jake Tucker, Eric (his brother) and Kevin Riggs). They had done the sting just because of the amount of activity these guys were involved with, in a relatively short period of time; it was unusual to say the least; but the boys came through clean.
Add this to a conversation Smithfield had had earlier with one of the guys who had been arrested in a ‘Park’s’ bust; he had asked the guy straight out, “How much dough was in your bag?” And the guy had answered simply: sixty-five thousand. Checking the bust report, the guys had seized cash assets of: sixty-five thousand two hundred.
So that would make one at least pause in their pursuit; which Smithfield was doing. Still, his gut told him that something wasn’t right. He wasn’t closing this file; not just yet.
(Northville, May 2010)
“God Jayla, I don’t want to do this. I don’t…shit, shit, shit, what is going to happen…?” Tears were rolling down Wanda Banik’s face and making the collar of her shirt wet. Her friend Jayla Uba sat close to her, her hand covering Wanda’s. Although Jayla was just as scared as Wanda, she was determined not to give ‘the two bastards’ the satisfaction of seeing it.
“Pull yourself together, Wanda, we’ll get through this. Just don’t make them mad; we don’t want to be hurt, right?”
Wanda nodded her head.
“Okay then,” Jayla continued, “stop crying and being like this or they will be really pissed off. Here…” she handed Wanda a tissue. Just then a car approached them and pulled to the curb. The window rolled down and the leering face of Jake Tucker emerged.
“Hellll-oooo ladies! Good to see you. Come on in.”
And he got out and opened the rear door. Jayla and Wanda, moving like robots, walked to the vehicle and climbed in. After a block or so, Jake turned around. Both girls’ hearts now were beating like the proverbial war drums; just his face scared the hell out of them.
“Okay, little sluts, the plan is simple. Keep the boys happy and do what you’re told; no one gets punished, everyone makes it through. Anything to add Mr. Park?” he said, turning to Brandon.
“Nah, Mr. Tucker, sir; I think you have covered it, although you might mention, the punishment includes a belt.”
Both girls began to whimper. Wanda was twisting her hands together and tears began to well in her eyes. “Ssss-uuushhh,” Jake murmured, “you’re not going to need the belt, are you?”
They both shook their heads and blurted out, “No, no. No.”
“Good,” Jake crooned, “Now, undo your jeans and take them down.”
The girls looked at each other, “No punishment, remember.” Jake warned, and both girls slid their jeans down to their knees. “Very good. Verrr-ryy good. Now, the panties.”
In a few moments both girls had handed their panties to Jake and were sitting with their shirts pulled up over their bras and naked from the waist down. Brandon was pulling into the triple garage of his parent’s (still off in Europe) home and parking.
“Now, before we go inside, shirts off; you can leave your bras on.” And in a moment Brandon was leading the way into his house and down into their family room, followed by Jayla and Wanda wearing their bras and nothing else, with Jake at the back. He had made Wanda finger her friend from behind as they walked down the stairs, laughing out loud at how awkward this was to do.
And the boys were prepared; they had borrowed two actual cameras and had them positioned strategically. They sat the girls down and everyone had a vodka and orange juice, Brandon putting two ounces into each girls’ drink and not a lot into his and Jake’s.
He then took scissors and cut holes in each bra so the girl’s nipples poked through. Next he placed them in a sixty-nine position, Jayla’s perfect ass to one camera, reminded them that they had not earned any punishment yet, and had them perform oral sex on each other until the boys were happy with them (and had some nice video).
With the novelty wearing off, Brandon and Jake now forced the girls to be more aggressive and rough with each other, touching and kissing wasn’t enough, they now needed slapping and aggressive fingering. The increased reluctance and resistance also meant more threats were needed to get the action they wanted, with Jake producing ‘the belt’ at one time. He actually wanted to use it.
As the night went on, the girls were forced to call home and lie that they were staying at each other’s place. Wanda was fucked by both boys as Jayla watched; Jayla was fucked anally by both boys as Wanda watched; and then, for good measure, Jake tied them down and then whipped their asses with his belt anyway; just so they knew what that was like.
In fact, the whipping was his favorite part, and he remembered it fondly looking back; the looks of terror on the girls’ faces, the satisfying ‘smack!’ with each belt lash; until wimpy Brandon had told him, “Enough”.
That Sunday afternoon, before they were going to take the girls back to the bench, Brandon and Jake sat in chairs as Jayla and Wanda, naked as they had been kept for the whole weekend, were on their knees sucking their cocks, and Jake mentioned matter-of-factly “You know Brandon, what I would really like to see?”
“No Jake, what would you really like to see?” Brandon responded as he held Jayla’s head, very close to an orgasm.
“I’d like to see these girls fucked by a midget. Wouldn’t that be somethin’?” and Jake laughed, Brandon thinking again that his friend was more than a little weird.
Shareen Macgregor turned down the familiar road and glanced at the dash clock; eleven-forty PM. She had done something unusual, in booking tomorrow off; she needed some time for herself. She turned in at the driveway and proceeded to the front of the house. In a moment she stood waiting at the door; it was not opened by Maria, but by ‘Mrs. Belvedere’ herself.
“Hello, my dear,” the woman said.
“Hello Olivia, thank you for seeing me at this late hour and short notice.”
“Nonsense, my dear, do come in.” And they proceeded down the familiar hall to the room Mrs. B. preferred for, entertaining.
“Now, what is it, Dear.”
“I…” Macgregor paused, considering how to word this. “I have, need of you, tonight.”
“Yes. Please go on.” Belvedere’s eyes had a brightness to them; she had already been indulging and was relaxed, but focused.
“I, um…well, I need to be punished, mistress,” Macgregor finally said, quietly.
Belvedere sighed, a long and deep sigh. She reached out and stroked the reddish blonde head. “It’s been awhile, my dear. Ah, let me think. My goodness, yes. A long while indeed.” She smiled; her smile held tenderness.
Macgregor looked up, as Belvedere continued. “I always liked you, you were one of my favorites, but as they do, you got older. Established a career. I moved on as did you. But our bond remains.” Macgregor kissed the hand that was stroking her.
“I will be thorough, my bitch” Belvedere said simply.
Macgregor smiled. “Yes, I know. Thank you. I accept…Mistress.”
So easily it returns, Macgregor marvelled to herself, as she began to undress.
Somewhere in Belvedere’s house a clock chimed; it was midnight. This day as well had come and gone.
It was Saturday and there was a lot to do.
With Aquina having been gone for two days, including Friday, it was decided to have today as the get-together day. Adam and Anna were back, Anna bustling around like a bee. “So much to do, Mistress,” she exclaimed, a smile on her face. She still called Aquina ‘Mistress’ even though it was no longer required; it simply felt right for her, as was doing this work.
Kate was back as well, she and Eric having stayed last night. Right now she was giving Aquina a huge hug, as the woman murmured, “You don’t need to keep serving us, kid.”
“I know,” Kate said, gently kissing Aquina’s lips. Then she headed off to help with making breakfast.
Aquina felt considerably better physically. Although her crotch was a mixture of yellow and green bruises, the pain was gone. Macgregor’s pills had been very helpful, especially for getting around when they were in the Cayman’s. The cash had made it safely in once again and their accounts were definitely ‘healthy’; and would be even more so once the money from Sanders appeared.
Pamela, now a unique combination of submissive for Aquina and a member of the party group, was going to pick up all the girls and bring them over; one less thing for Aquina and she appreciated that.
Gusbertson would be there tonight as well as Daniel Garrett, who was bringing a friend/co-worker. Adam would be there of course. Dzyuba wasn’t invited and apparently had begun complaining to Brandon. Aquina hoped he wasn’t going to be a problem.
Macgregor’s face appeared briefly to her and Aquina forced it away, fighting the stab of anguish and ignoring the void within her.
(Northville, June 2010)
As they had been directed, Jayla and Wanda took a cab to Brandon’s house. They had been given cash with the instructions earlier that day at school. Both girls moved up the walk quickly as they did not want punishment. Entering the house they followed their ‘masters’ to the lower level, quickly undressed and went down on all fours.
As Brandon had pointed out to Jake, his parents would be coming back any day (hopefully not this weekend!) and once they were back it would be much harder to use the two girls as they had been, especially with the school year ending. Jake agreed and stated that this weekend they needed to get started early and go as long as they could.
The usual process began. The girls were on their knees, cock-sucking; next it was Wanda being fucked and then Jayla being fucked anally. The boys then took a break and ordered pizza. They had the girls dress in just Tee-shirts and wait upstairs.
When the pizza arrived, delivered by a thin, young man who looked barely old enough to drive, the girls offered to pay for the delivery with oral sex, which they did, and then asked the boy to fuck Wanda for his tip; which he did, coming in a matter of moments and leaving with a look of bewildered contentment on his pimpled face.
“Best day of his life,” Brandon remarked to Jake as they drank beer and ate the pizza, using the girls as tables to rest the food on and tossing them crusts as they finished a slice. After eating, they tied the girls with their legs spread in front of the television and watched the video compilation Jake had put together of them; a good twenty-five minutes worth of Jayla and Wanda being used in every way possible.
They then told the girls that they had uploaded the video to the Internet and let them cry and beg for a few minutes before saying they were just joking.
Jake laughed so hard beer came out of his nose.
(End of Chapter 22)