A Castle of Sand by LongDarkRoad
Chapter 15 Sweet Cream Ladies
“…to the lost and lonely people of the night, out of need, they seek direction for their life, they will love you in the darkness, take advantage of your starkness…”
The ride in to work on Monday seemed, normal. Christine and Margie had not talked but their behavior would not have caused anyone to wonder. The talk was mostly about how things had gone with the Hungarians and what was next up.
After the morning group debrief, everyone had their own reports to write up. The morning was moving along fairly well when Christine’s telephone rang. She thought, even before she answered it, that it could be Dhang; her quickened pulse and onset of anxiety were witness to that.
“My delightful whore, I’ve missed you. Are you in a quiet area?”
“N-no, Mistress. I will go there now,” Christine replied and headed for the library, empty this morning as no one had assignments. Apparently the regular staff sometimes used the room but not often. “Mistress…” Christine said and waited.
“You had a busy week, my pussy-licking bitch?”
“Mmmmm,” Christine could feel the heat spreading from between her legs and out; her nipples stiffened, she could feel them straining against her bra. “Yes, I have, Mistress. I hope you are p-pleased.”
Dhang chuckled. “I won’t be pleased until I have my whore with her tongue in my pussy and my paddle on her ass. Be at my hotel immediately after work; take a taxi. We are back in the same place and will be for this week.”
Before Christine could answer, the line went dead. She closed her eyes and slid off her chair, then knelt on the floor, before slowly curling into a ball, her hands wedged between her thighs. Why couldn’t she stop this; what was wrong with her? She lamented, as she lay on the carpet with equal measures of disgust and desire coursing through her.
* * * *
Dhang was sitting at her desk in the embassy. Spread out before her were a number of photographs of ‘her whore’; she smiled thinking of what she would be adding today. Next she looked over the notes form her asset who had worked with the staff at Sheridan Point on the weekend; apparently Silverberg and Callister had walked off together and had been seen kissing. She smiled, then called her friend Castillo and arranged a drink for this evening.
She pressed her intercom and spoke briefly, and in a moment a young, slim Korean girl entered, standing with apprehension. On a signal, the girl disrobed and stood shyly; she had large breasts for her petite body and slender frame; it was one of Dhang’s preferences. Dhang tossed a black leather collar, menacing-looking with silver spikes protruding, and when the girl had it on ordered her to crawl to her.
Dhang stood and walked behind the kneeling figure, suddenly delivering a swift kick to the girl’s crotch, doubling her up. Dhang then grabbed a handful of the girl’s thick, black hair, and dragged the figure into a nearby, private washroom. After tying the girl’s wrists behind her back, Dhang plunged the girl’s head into the toilet bowl water, and held her as the girl struggled, more and more frantically, before she was released.
Dhang repeated this until the girl was gasping and sobbing, at which point Dhang left her lying on the bathroom floor, and returned to her desk to finish some work, a smile on her face.
* * * *
Christine had been back at her desk for about five minutes when her telephone rang again. Heart beating as she answered, and expecting more delicious torment from her mistress, she instead found Julia Sullivan on the other end.
“Good morning, Miss Callister. I believe you were just in discussion with Miss Dhang?” She smiled at Christine’s surprise, “All the in-calls come through our switchboard, so we know who is calling. Anyway, Arlene will be bringing you an envelope with a note in in. Copy it in your own handwriting and the next time you meet Dhang give her this info. Tell her you simply saw it on my desk. Tonight? Very good, I’ll meet with you tomorrow then.”
In a moment Arlene arrived with her wonderful smile and the note and Christine took care of her small task; the info had said simply: England leaving the twenty-second. Two assets acc. That was it.
Christine sat now with her mind in turmoil, more than usual, what with Margie and now tonight’s meeting. At some point, as difficult as it was for her to deal with them, Christine knew she would have to face her emotions. It was clear she loved the sexual release; loved it, wanted it, desired it. And it was clear that being dominated and humiliated, for whatever deep reason, enabled this. Just how far was she willing to go to meet her need; to get her, drug? Her fix the junkies called it.
“How far could she go with you?” Lana had asked. It was disturbing to Christine, even as she felt the desire, that, she just didn’t know.
The thought (uncalled for) then came to her that she had experienced that very nice orgasm courtesy of Mrs. Yee; there had been humiliation and domination and very aggressive sex.
But there had been no Madame Dhang. Curious.
* * * *
Cliff Eagleton looked over his notes; he was quite informed, as much as any government man could be, when it came to criminal activity, and he had intel that a large shipment of heroin had left Hong Kong over three weeks ago and that it would land in New York in a few days; he now even knew which shipping line would be carrying it. He gazed at his telephone; Eagleton also knew, very well, that this was not a decision he could take back.
* * * *
“Hey,” Christine murmured to Lana, “I’m heading out after work, so don’t wait, okay.”
“Sure, Hon.” Lana smiled, “Your mistress awaits?” Christine felt pangs of desire and guilt, and Lana continued, “Well, you do have a new collar to show her.”
“Now you’re teasing me, Lana,” Christine whispered.
Lana regarded the young woman for a few seconds, then murmured, “Mmmm, who’s teasing whom, sweet girl?”
* * * *
“Look,” Anne said quietly, “Frank’s going to be going away again; it’s what he does. I’m willing to bide my time, if you can handle the stress. It’s your decision, babe.”
Laverne looked up into a face she loved to kiss, of a woman who now mattered to her. Decisions; some were a bitch.
* * * *
Christine walked briskly into the hotel lobby. In her purse were three items for her mistress, two of which were causing arousal and stress. The elevator ride seemed to take forever and then the walk down the hallway seemed extended, but finally Christine was knocking on the door, to be admitted by Hyun, dressed again in a thin bra, garters, nylons, shoes but no panties.
“Whore,” Hyun greeted her with a genuine sneer, “leave all your clothes here and get on your knees.” Christine complied and then crawled behind the assistant into the living room, to come at last to the black, polished shoes of her mistress; she had carried her handbag along as she crawled, and she now raised it slightly. “I have something for you, Mistress,” she said, not raising her eyes.
“Hmmmm, very good. I like your devotion. Tell me where you belong, Bitch?”
Again the heat began spreading within her; it was as if she had no power over these things. In the back of her mind, a nugget or a kernel of resistance had lodged, built from shame and the displeasure of Margie and the irreverence of Lana, but it was now overwhelmed. “I b-belong on my knees, Mistress,” she murmured, still facing the floor.
Dhang chuckled darkly, saying, “That is good, and we will be testing your obedience soon. For now, show me what you have brought.”
Christine took out the collar, the envelope from Paulette Yee and the information from Sullivan. Dhang took the envelope and opened it, crooning “My whore’s pussy, asshole and mouth have earned me fifteen hundred American dollars. That pleases me. You do have your uses, whore.”
The end of the sentence was accompanied by Dhang nudging Christine’s breasts with her shoe, and they swayed.
Next she looked at the note form Sullivan. “How did you come to acquire this information?” She asked quietly, and Christine hesitated for a moment, then said, “I was told to tell you that I saw it on Mrs. Sullivan’s desk, but she actually gave it to me, and had me write it out to give to you.” Christine paused, breathing hard now through her nose, the stab of guilt intense, almost overwhelming. How far would you go…
Dhang leaned down and caressed Christine’s face, turning it up, and looking into the brown eyes, “That is good, my devoted whore. I am very pleased with you, and will use you now as you deserve.” She smiled and looked at the collar as she turned it in her hand, saying something to Hyun who got up and returned with a permanent black marker.
Dhang handed the marker and collar to Christine. “What name should go on the collar?” She smiled.
Christine studied the carpet and said quietly, “Whore?”
“Indeed. Print that in large letters and then put the collar on. The world needs to see exactly what you are.”
Christine did that, and after fastening the collar, she looked up into the compelling eyes of this woman who could somehow reach inside her, making her into a puppet. Tears were now rolling down her cheeks, and Dhang reached down and gently brushed them away. She then said something to Hyun, who bent forward and lifted Christine’s face herself; then spit on it.
Both women laughed.
* * * *
“So, Callister is meeting the Korean woman today?” Silverberg asked, glancing up at the sturdy form of Julia Sullivan, sitting across from him.
“Correct, Sir. I’ve, um, given her some info; we’ll see what she does with it.”
“It’s about England, right?”
“Yeah, him, but I also put in there that the two assistants going with him are assets.”
Silverberg studied his own assistant for a moment, “That’s interesting; I thought there’ll be three assistants, and none of them are assets?”
Sullivan smiled, “Correct.” She paused, “I’m pretty sure Callister will ‘come clean’ with Dhang and tell her she’s been given the info on purpose.”
Silverberg pondered. “You don’t, mmm, trust Miss Callister?”
Sullivan sighed; her opinion of Callister was complicated. “She’s young, inexperienced and smitten with Dhang. I’m not going to judge her morality; God knows there’s a lot that’s much, much worse out there that, um, people do. But she can’t lie, it’s as simple as that, sir. We cannot expect her to carry a lie to this woman, she just can’t do it. So we’ll do a reverse; expect her to spill the beans, just make sure the beans are the ones we want spilled.”
Silverberg nodded. It made sense, yet for some reason it also made him sad. He liked Christine Callister; he disliked what they, and she, were doing.
Not for the first time he considered that this life he led was a bitch, at times.
* * * *
Christine was now standing and wearing a short, thin cotton dress, her dog collar and nothing underneath. With a smile, Dhang handed the woman a dog’s leash, which Christine studied for a moment, and then hooked to her collar, handing the leash back to her mistress, with Dhang nodding her pleasure.
“I should make you come on your knees, whore, but that would take too long. Soon though, you will be displayed in public as you should be, as my possession.”
Holding the loop of the leash, Dhang headed out, walking to the elevator and leading her slave. When they were inside, they stood against the back wall, the other three inhabitants casting cautious glances their way, Christine light-headed. Once on the main floor Dhang led the way into the lounge and to the back corner, heads turning as they went.
At the last table a ‘Latino’ woman was seated, and she stood, greeting Dhang before the two sat, with Christine kneeling beside them on the floor. Their table blocked the view of the lounge patrons, but Christine still shuddered with excitement and shame as she knelt, exposed; Dhang’s pet and whore.
The woman did not introduce her ‘slave’ and she and the Latino woman, amazingly to Christine, began speaking in Spanish and it was clear they were discussing her, as the woman, Talia Castillo, kept grinning down at her, not necessarily in a pleasant way.
Now, the dark-haired woman (likely early forties) wearing an expensive business suit; handsome and commanding rather than pretty, and with a mass of curly, jet-black hair, leaned forward and took Christine’s face in her hands, the bright red polish of her nails standing out against the whiteness of Christine’s skin.
“Puta!” the woman said, and then she, too, spat on Christine’s cheek, pausing to spread the saliva around, as Christine closed her eyes.
“That means ‘whore’,” Dhang murmured, bending close to Christine’s ear, “which is what you are, yes? Someone who fucks when she is told to?”
Christine nodded her head, too filled with emotion to speak. Castillo then reached around and undid the tie of Christine’s dress, pulling the top down so her heavy breasts lay exposed and tempting. Taking her red lipstick out, Castillo wrote ‘PUTA’ on the exposed chest. Both women chuckled.
“What are you?” the woman then asked with a sneer.
“Ommm, a h-whore, Miss Castillo,” Christine murmured in a choked voice.
“You spread your legs when your mistress tells you to?”
Afraid she might pass out with the arousal, Christine nodded and “mmmmed”.
Castillo gripped her face again, “Say it, dumb bitch,” the intimidating woman sneered into Christine’s face.
Focused on the floor, Christine said quietly, “I spread my legs and fuck when my mistress commands me t-to.”
Both women laughed again and spoke in Spanish, but then a waitress came to their table, stared for a moment at Christine, and nervously asked for Dhang’s order. Castillo was drinking white wine.
With a quick glance, the waitress; tall, dark hair, late twenties, attractive in a certain way, turned and headed back to the bar.
“Okay, Slave,” Dhang said sweetly to Christine, “my friend, who is someone much superior to you, has lovely black boots that need cleaning.”
Dhang handed Castillo the leash-end and then the woman tugged Christine’s face down to her boots, uncrossing her legs and revealing the black triangle of her lace panties, murmuring, “Pronto”, as Christine’s tongue reached out and began to lick the fragrant black leather.
“She’s trainable,” Castillo said.
“Like a dog,” Dhang replied, and they laughed again.
“A dog that fucks,” Castillo added and both women laughed out loud.
* * * *
Anne looked over her note; she had informed her handlers of May’s return, and also that the following week they would be hosting a dinner for General Ostrander at their home. Finally, she noted that the Callister woman was romantically involved with a high-level Korean woman.
After leaving the note, she hurried from the park and hailed a cab; she hadn’t actually admitted it out loud, but she wanted to spend more time with Laverne before ‘the assholes’ all returned.
* * * *
And speaking of assholes, Christine was at that moment now on her knees, her face between Hyun’s nylon-covered legs, her tongue embedded as far into the woman’s fragrant back door hole as possible.
“Why do you lick out her ass?” Dhang murmured, for the fourth time.
Christine answered correctly again, having learned the answer with the help of the riding crop, “I lick her a-asshole because she is my superior, Mistress. I’m a white whore and I am pleased to clean her ass.”
“Do you like the taste?” Hyun chuckled at this and lifted Christine’s face, opening her mouth and spitting inside. As disgusting as it was, it had happened so often tonight that Christine simply knelt and accepted it, before saying quietly.
“I do. Mistress.”
“Is this your proper place in life?”
“Y-yes, Mistress, this is where I belong.”
Christine’s own round ass, which was facing Dhang and Castillo who sat sipping wine, watching the show, was reddened more than at any other time in her life. All three women; Dhang, Castillo and Hyun, had taken turns, punishing her with an assortment of paddles and even a riding crop, which accounted for the four welts that stood out even against the inflamed skin. These were the first welts Christine had experienced from Dhang, and if she hadn’t been effectively gagged, her cries would have caused alarm on the hotel floor.
Castillo now rose and moved softly, then kicked Christine’s labia from behind with her stocking-clad foot. “Spread your legs more, Whore; now, reach back and spread both your holes, wider. That’s it.” She paused, “She displays nicely, for a whore,” the woman remarked to Dhang, resuming her seat.
Castillo had been aggressive this evening in her abuse of the lovely ‘white whore’. The most noteworthy scene being when Dhang ordered her slave to be Castillo’s ashtray, and the woman had languidly tapped the ashes of her cigarette into Christine’s opened mouth as she smoked, before a bowl of water was brought for her to wash the remnants down with. Castillo had then butted her cigarette out on Christine’s bare ass.
Now, as Christine worked to keep herself spread from behind, and sucked aggressively on the dark, textured creases of Hyun’s anus, the young woman suddenly tightened her knees around Christine’s head and cried out in pleasure, with both Dhang and Castillo applauding.
They had both already received their rewards from Dhang’s dedicated slave; Castillo while they were still in the lounge, Christine licking the woman to a climax as she sat on her chair, while the dark-haired waitress worked a small glass bottle in and out of Christine’s sopping vagina, earning herself a nice tip.
Now Hyun stood and left for the washroom; Dhang instructing Christine to relax her hands and arch her back; she then slapped her buttocks a couple more times, encouraged by Castillo, who said something to Dhang in Spanish. Dhang then called out something to Hyun in Korean, and the young woman returned with a plastic funnel.
Christine was now placed with her face pressed against the carpet but still able to see her reflection in the wall mirror. She now saw, as well as felt, Dhang insert the funnel into her asshole. She then saw Castillo squat down over the funnel, and then felt the warm sensation, as the woman pissed into her, followed in turn by a laughing Hyun. Christine was then roughly brought to her knees to lick both women clean.
A few minutes later, as Christine sat dazed on the toilet, ridding herself of their urine, Dhang stroked her face, murmuring. “You smell of piss.” She chuckled, gently stroking Christine’s face, purring, “When I piss in my slave, it will be in your mouth,” which she now kissed. She then slipped her hand down and masturbated her slave, right there on the toilet.
* * * *
Cliff Eagleton took his bowl of Kraft dinner to the table, along with a beer and a slice of bread. Most nights he simply ate at a restaurant, which had been his routine since he and Maria had divorced eight years earlier. Tonight however he had decided to make one of the few things he knew how, and just relax at home.
He looked over the numbers from his bank accounts; okay, but nothing remarkable, and if a serious illness came along, or something to do with one of his two children, he would not have much wiggle room.
He’d sleep on it, and decide in the morning whether to call Fuller or not.
* * * *
Christine sat on the front porch. Despite all that she had experienced, it was still just after nine. Standing cautiously, her rear end and thighs tender, she slipped into the house and listened; she really didn’t feel like seeing or talking with anyone. She managed to make it to the upstairs bathroom where she ran water for a bath, emptying the Epsom salts her mistress had given her into the warm water.
Easing herself gently into the tub she rested her head on a towel and pondered. Much of what had been done to her tonight had aroused her, but not all. She liked being spanked, but only to a certain point; tonight had gone past that, and that was likely because the woman Castillo had been there. She was clearly someone who liked hurting people.
It was also now clear in Christine’s mind that she loved eating women’s, pussies (she smiled at the word). Whatever happened with Dhang, she knew she would continue doing this. Even when she was licking the unpleasant Hyun, she enjoyed what she was doing, even if she didn’t like the person. She also liked, was greatly aroused by, being made to perform sexually in public. Was that sick?
And being used as a toilet was arousing, but again it was mostly because she was serving Dhang. Christine doubted she would want to serve Hyun or Castillo that way, on their own. Paulette Yee? Maybe, so the act was still dependent on the woman.
She didn’t however like the spitting; recalling this now, a surge of revulsion suddenly rose in her and she needed to climb quickly from the tub and retch into the toilet. After the nausea had passed, she eased herself back into the water and lay back for another twenty minutes, before a gentle rap on the door signaled someone needing to enter, and in a moment Gerry came in, apologized and sat on the toilet, the two women sharing trivial chat to ease the awkwardness.
As Gerry finished wiping herself, Christine happened to open her eyes, and the two held each other’s gaze. Gerry smiled and gently stroked her own labia, hidden in a thick covering of dark hair. “So,” Gerry murmured, “is it true you like girls?”
Christine continued to watch Gerry fondle herself, saying quietly, “Yes, I do.”
“Would you like some of this?” Gerry smiled, massaging herself more deliberately.
Christine hesitated, then nodded her head. “I would.”
“Come up to my room when you get out,” Gerry said, pulling up her pants and heading off. In a few minutes Christine climbed out of the tub and turned to look at her reflection in the mirror; the welts had almost disappeared and the redness was greatly diminished. She towelled herself off and put on her housecoat, then, despite her very full evening so far, made her way to Gerry and Lana’s room, knocking softly and entering to find Gerry lying naked on her bed.
She needed comfort, and arousal was okay too, if it happened.
“Lana won’t be home ‘til eleven,” Gerry smiled, lifting her knees and spreading her legs. Christine dropped her house coat and moved to the bed, kissing Gerry’s mouth and then sucking both breasts, before dropping her face into the thick bush and attacking the heavy, dark labia with surprising desire, as Gerry moaned softly.
Twenty minutes later she lay against the brown body as they both gently kissed and stroked one another. “I wish I could stay here tonight,” Christine murmured.
But that was not allowed, and a half hour later, after spending an extra amount of time brushing her teeth, Christine lay on her own bed; no sign of Margie so far. She was just starting to drift off when she heard her roommate enter and take some things, then leave again. Ten minutes later she was back, laying quietly on her own bed and turning her face again to the wall.
Christine lay alone, her thoughts again a mess, a bewildering mixture of desire, regret, elation and sadness, taking turns twisting within her. My delightful whore, my pussy-licking bitch, spread your legs and fuck when I order you…
She suddenly remembered other words, unsure if her mother had been reading to her or if it was Miss Devers speaking; Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. But what was love?
How did one ever know?
(End of Chapter 15)