A Castle of Sand by LongDarkRoad
Chapter 16 Touch Me
“…can’t you see that I am not afraid? Why won’t you tell me what she said? What was that promise that you made?…”
Hie Dhang and her ‘father’ travel to Vietnam for some government business, planning to spend three days. Dhang loved the greenness of the place, the wide river and the vegetation; the men in their boats rowing here and there. The city seemed like something from another time.
On the third day, after walking around the busy port, the man showed Dhang several warehouses, asking her what she thought was in them. Dhang suggested farming machinery, to which the man chuckled.
They walked to one warehouse, met at the entrance by a guard with a rifle. The man showed a letter and he and Dhang entered. Inside, Dhang stood and stared in amazement at a vast storehouse of military weapons; vehicles, boxes of rifles, even tanks.
“The Americans,” the man had answered to Dhang’s question. “They brought this here after the occupation of Japan. I think they have plans for it.”
He had lit a cigarette and laughed. They had returned to Korea that night, and Dhang had never seen Saigon again, until this year, when she had flown over the country, amazed by the scenes of destruction.
But she had never forgotten those warehouses and what they had contained.
* * * *
General Ostrander looked down at the petite, Asian woman standing before him. Morrison had mentioned something about Vietnamese, but the general had not paid attention; he simply loved her size. “I could pick you up and eat you,” he laughed and the woman regarded his massive bulk with alarm.
An hour later, as she lay crying softly on the bed, blood oozing from her anus, Ostrander looked thoughtfully at the bottle of champagne they had ‘enjoyed’. He had laughed as she had choked on the bubbly, forced by him into her mouth. He’d had his share as well, and felt pretty good.
Now, the woman protested a little as the large man spread her legs, but his massive paw on her back held her in place. He laughed as he inserted the neck of the bottle into her vagina; this would be something else for him to ‘enjoy’.
* * * *
Lana strolled over to Christine’s desk. “So, what were you up to last night?” the woman smiled.
“I could ask you the same thing,” Christine smiled in return.
Lana laughed, “Oh, we both have our needs.” She looked hard now at her friend, “We’re going out for a drink tonight, unless your, Mistress, has other plans for you.”
Christine felt the familiar tug of emotions, “I should be good. Where are we, uh, going?”
“You’ll see,” Lana smirked and left.
* * * *
Cliff Eagleton gazed at the pay-phone for several seconds, before finally lifting the receiver and plunking in a coin, then dialling. In a moment Bob Fuller’s voice answered.
“Okay, pal, I guess we’re going for a walk on the wild side. Shipment coming in on the twenty-fifth, New York,” Eagleton said.
There was a pause; Eagleton could hear Fuller drumming on his desk with his fingers. “Roger that. I guess if this was poker, we’d be all in?”
“I guess,” Eagleton murmured.
* * * *
Christine had been sent to the library with a task related to Bulgaria and was looking through a file cabinet when the sturdy form of Julia Sullivan appeared, motioning to a table at the back of the room.
“Good day, Miss Callister. I understand you met with Dhang yesterday?”
“That’s correct, Mrs. Sullivan. At her hotel. A woman named Castillo was there as well.”
“That’s interesting,” the woman murmured, then got up and went to the telephone, returning after a brief conversation to sit down across from Callister. “So, the time with Dhang was mostly, social?” Christine nodded her head. “You gave her the info?” Christine nodded again, feeling a knot in her stomach. “How…did she react?” Sullivan asked, evenly, eyes on Callister’s face.
Christine hesitated for a second, before replying, “She didn’t seem surprised. She made a call afterwards, but she was in the other room and speaking Korean.”
“Yes, of course. Well, thank you Miss Callister. Anything planned?”
“Nothing yet, I’ll probably get a call today.”
“Very good, carry on, as they say.” And with that, Sullivan stood and headed off. She had what she needed; Callister had lied to her. But then, that was what she expected. She had most certainly told Dhang about the set-up; which was, sadly, also what she expected. The beans had been spilled correctly.
But it was interesting about Talia Castillo, who was a Cuban, and connected to Castro. Very interesting. Had Dhang revealed something unintended, or was this on purpose? Cat and mouse, as always, but who was the cat and who was the mouse?
The lovely Christine Callister clearly was the cheese, but a piece of cheese also clearly prepared to betray her country. Sullivan shook her head as if to clear away the annoyance.
* * * *
Young Morrison was terribly agitated when he finally located Frank May in the lounge.
“Okay, okay, son, take a breath and breathe. That’s it. Here, drink this…” May handed the fellow his scotch, which Morrison downed in a gulp and steadied himself by gripping the bar. “Alright, what is it?” May asked, quietly.
“She’s dead, Sir, there’s blood and I tried to revive her, but there was n-nothing and then…”
“Whoa son, whoa. Who’s dead?” May asked, as calmly as he could.
“The girl, Sir, the one in the general’s room, Sir.”
May stared at the young man. “You are sure; you did check for a pulse?”
The white-faced young man gulped and nodded; he looked like he would break down and cry, so May steadied him with a hand on the shoulder.
“Okay, okay. Better leave this with me.” May crooned, thinking Damn! What a snafu. And we leave tomorrow.
* * * *
Christine was headed to the library again, but this time she was following Margie, the girl looking up with a start when she turned and Christine was standing there. “Yow, kiddo, you gave me a scare,” Margie announced, sitting down and eyeing Christine carefully.
Christine sat and suddenly felt emotional, looking at a girl she liked and cared for and who was now shutting her out. “Talk to me, Margie, I need to understand what’s going on. You’re hurting me; is that what you want?”
Margie looked down, “I, um, I don’t want to hurt you, or anybody. I’m not like that, but, I, um, jeezus, Chris, it just hit me like a brick, you know.” All of this had been said with Margie focused on the table.
Christine lifted the woman’s face to see tears welling from her roommate’s eyes. “Oh, God, Margie, what is it!?”
Margie stared, suddenly looking fierce. “It’s the goddamn collar, Christine. The dog collar. You’re thinking of being a woman’s slave, for Christ’s sake. Her slave, on your knees, not for an evening event or a laugh, but to live. She doesn’t love you, Chris, can’t you see that? She’s just using you and you’re a fool, a damn fool.”
With that, Margie jumped up and rushed out, leaving Christine sitting, sadness seeping through her guts, her mind in turmoil.
* * * *
The conversation was in Korean, and it was between Dhang and her immediate boss. “I should at least have an explanation,” Dhang said with emotion, “But why now?” she responded. “Fine.” And the call ended, with Dhang looking like smoke might soon come out of her ears.
She called for the third of her young assistants and Hyun brought her, tying the girl to the bed as Dhang ordered. A few minutes later, Dhang collapsed into a chair and Hyun brought her an American whiskey; strange for this early in the day, then stood waiting anxiously.
“Take care of her,” Dhang said, nodding to the sobbing, bound girl. “Oh, and we return to Korea in one week.” She then swore in Korean.
* * * *
The call to Christine’s desk phone was not from Dhang, who she had expected when it rang. It was instead the smirking Hyun. “How is the white whore today?” she asked.
“I’m fine, Miss Hyun,” Christine replied, respectfully.
“You served us well last night, I certainly enjoyed whipping you. Madame Dhang has said I can whip you each time you are used; slaves need whipping, especially disgusting white slaves.”
Christine sat, silently, unsure of a response; then said, “I am happy I, um, pleased you.”
Hyun chuckled, “And I think you enjoyed licking my asshole.”
Christine paused again, feeling slight arousal but mostly annoyance. “Um, yes, Miss Hyun, I d-did,” Christine murmured, the buzz of the office keeping her words confidential.
“Did you like being used as a, toilet?” Hyun murmured.
Feeling a swell of disgust but also desire, Christine replied, “I was happy to serve my mistress’s, um, friend.”
There was a longer pause, before Hyun said, “We will need you on Friday; you will receive instructions. Until then, continue as your mistress has instructed, filthy whore.”
“Mmmmm, yes, Miss Hyun…” The line went dead and Christine sat, unsettled and unsure.
She loved serving Dhang, even some of the more unpleasant things, but could she be her slave, being used by people like Hyun and Castillo, giving up all choice? Was that what it meant? Was she really a fool, or was Margie just being, jealous?
At that moment, Connie came in and rapped on a table. “Ladies, ladies, I think you are aware that tomorrow the Apollo 11 spacecraft takes off for the freakin’ moon (there was applause and cheering)and the actual landing is supposed to be Sunday. Mr. Silverberg has invited us over to their home to watch it on their color television, so that’s the event for this weekend. Cheerio.”
Hmmmm, Christine pondered, the moon, maybe she would be safe from her desires up there.
* * * *
The taxi stopped in front of The Jefferson Hotel and
Lana and Christine got out. They made their way to the lounge and ordered white wine, and then Lana ran her hand up Christine’s thigh and said, “Okay, tell me what you did last night.”
“Can we wait until we’ve at least had a drink?” Christine offered and Lana laughed. They engaged in small talk until the first glasses were almost empty and then Christine laid it all out. It many ways it was a relief to share her experience with someone who understood, especially now that Margie had closed a door.
As before, Lana simply sat and listened, pausing only to order two more glasses of wine. When Christine was finished, Lana did not comment; she simply, and surprisingly, said, “See that woman at the bar?”
Christine turned her face to see a very attractive woman, late twenties, sitting with a man who was decidedly older. “Um, yes,” Christine smiled.
“She’s a call girl; she has had dinner with that gentleman, most likely a business-man from out-of-town. Later they will go to his room; maybe have sex, or a blow job. Then she will likely go home. She will leave with at least eight hundred dollars, five hundred for her and three for her agency.”
Christine looked at Lana, trying to read her face, something she was not good at. “And, you are telling me this why? And you know, how?”
Lana laughed, “I know, because I know the woman who runs the agency the girl works for. I know how much money is involved because I am seriously considering working for that agency, and I think you should come with me.”
The two women regarded each other for a long moment, Christine with eyes ‘as big as saucers’. “You’re not kidding, are you Lana?”
“Absolutely not, my lovely girl. You, right now, are giving it away for peanuts and for someone else’s benefit, and you’re doing things that you wouldn’t have to do. Or if you did, you would be making a lot more money for. Now, if it’s all about serving this woman, crawling on your knees because of some desire in you, well then, that’s your call. But you are worth so much more, and there are ways to get your, fix as they say. But only you can decide that.”
Lana stood and placed twenty dollars on the table, then turned to go. “Why are you leaving?” Christine pleaded.
“You need to get your head together, Chris. Decide what you want. Until then, no one, not Margie, not me, not anyone, can be of any help.” And then she was gone.
Christine finished her wine and caught a taxi home. When she got to her room, there was a surprise waiting; Gerry was sitting on Margie’s bed. “Margie wanted to trade, Christine. I’m good with bunking with you; just give her some time, I guess. I’m, um, sorry.”
Christine stood for a moment in a daze, then got her things and went to the washroom, returning later in her housecoat. Gerry was lying naked on the bed, and Christine put her things on her bed and then looked into the woman’s face. Gerry opened her knees, “Come here,” she said, in a quiet voice. Before Christine could start, Gerry said, “Drop your robe first.”
Christine paused, frozen for a moment, deciding, then tossed her housecoat on the bed. “Just stand like that for a minute,” Gerry said, sitting up, a smile on her face. She had thought on this and was pretty sure she knew what made the lovely Christine tick. “Play with your tits for me,” she said, quietly.
“What…?” Christine murmured.
“You heard me, or do I need to get my hairbrush?”
“Ummmm,” Christine moaned. “Ummmm, how do you want me to, um, play with, them?”
“Rough; pull them. Pull your nipples hard.” Christine did this, feeling the wave already beginning. Gerry chuckled, enjoying this show very much. “Find something I can tie your hands with,” she murmured.
Christine quickly pulled the belt from her robe, not wanting to lose the feeling.
“Bring it to me on your knees, like a good little slave.”
With a groan, Christine sunk to her knees and began to crawl to Gerry’s bed. Gerry had her kneel, and tied her hands behind her back, before reaching around and mauling Christine’s breasts, twisting the nipples hard and making her cry out. She then lay back on the bed with her legs spread, dangled over the side. She brought Christine’s face into the dense tangle of her crotch. “Pleasure me, Bitch. I’m gonna guess you like being called bitch, hey?” she chuckled. “I plan to have you do this a lot,” Gerry murmured, as Christine’s tongue went to work on her thick inner and outer labia.
Christine loved them; they were like little sausages. She loved the musky aroma, the wildness of the spreading pubic hair. And as she licked, her sadness left her, for the moment, and an incredible sense of peace settled over her, different from anything she’d ever felt.
She would think on that later; for now she wanted to serve this woman and please this pussy and then receive her reward. She wanted it.
No; she needed it.
* * * *
The ‘situation’ had been taken care of; the body secretly removed and disposed of. Young Morrison was under control and everything was in place for their return home. Frank May sat with a fresh cup of coffee, pondering that it would be good to soon sleep in his own bed.
And good to see Laverne; what a trooper she was, he smiled.
In the guest room of their home in Washington, Laverne cried out, then laughed, her hands embedded in Anne’s blonde hair.
“Hey, please release me, let me go, babe,” Anne chuckled, loosening Laverne’s grip on her locks. She moved up and lay between the woman’s spread legs, grinding her pelvis and smiling down at the face.
“God, I’m going to miss you,” Laverne whispered. “I don’t know if I can take it,” she said, gripping Anne in a ferocious hug.
* * * *
When they awoke, Christine, with her hands tied now in front of her, was lying with her back against Gerry’s pert breasts. Both of Gerry’s arms were around her, one hand on a breast and one between her thighs.
“Off the bed and on your knees,” Gerry murmured softly into Christine’s ear.
In a moment, Christine was licking Gerry’s sex again as the woman lay back and moaned softly, thinking this was a great way to start the morning, “Ummm, that is sooooo freakin’ nice, mmmmmm, what, uh, what do you call that woman? Uh, Margie told me, a little…”
Christine paused and looked up, “Mmm, Mistress Dhang.” She then bent back to her work.
Gerry lay, enjoying and thinking, “I’ll think of some rules for you today, Slave-girl, but for now call me Miss Gerry. We’ll work out the details later.”
Christine paused, with a smile on her face, unsure why, and not really caring. “Yes, um, Miss Gerry,” Christine murmured, her tongue centered on the woman’s g-spot, her nose breathing in the woman’s musky scent.
* * * *
“I’m around this weekend, my love,” Madame Lu said, “Saturday night I am in my office.”
“Thanks,” Lana replied quietly, “I’ll let you know.” She hung up the hall receiver just as Gerry, Christine and Dolly came down the stairs. In a minute all six women had piled into the van and it headed off. The talk today was all about the moon mission; Christine felt clueless again, as everyone but her seemed to have details, so she just listened.
Lana had looked at her ‘hard’ for a few moments, before smiling and talking to Connie. Margie was studiously avoiding eye contact with her former roommate (no one had said anything about the switch, yet) and Gerry had winked at her once, licking her lips, making Christine smile, in spite of everything.
* * * *
When Christine answered her phone mid-morning no one else was in their area. She caught her breath as the sultry voice of her mistress accosted her. “And how is my little slave-whore, my bitch, today?” She asked.
“I’m, um, good, Mistress…”
“Did you enjoy having my friend piss in you?” Dhang asked, suddenly and melodiously.
Her heart-rate increasing and the deep response beginning, Christine murmured her previous response, “I am pleased to serve my m-mistress.”
There was a pause, Dhang was actually sipping tea and stroking the head of assistant number one, who was licking Dhang’s dark, thick labia with long, slow strokes, as she had been commanded to do this morning. Dhang was thinking of tying the girl up and whipping her later, even as she was speaking with her ‘White slave’. “Would you like me to piss in you, my whore?” Dhang asked in a voice that made Christine squirm on her chair, grateful she was alone.
“Mmmmm, yes, um, yes, Mistress, I would.” And sitting there, her emotions torrid, her arousal rising, the fact was she would like Dhang to use her in this nasty way, pissing in her; even on her. She blurted out, “I would like you to piss on me, Mistress.” Then she felt an incredible swell of shame and desire, as the angel on one shoulder scolded her in disgust, while the devil on the other nodded his approval, a broad grin on his malevolent face.
Dhang smiled at this, “When you are my slave, full time, I will use you daily as my toilet; if you are worthy.”
The two women sat now in silence, Christine about to explode, the erotic images Dhang had incited clear in her mind. Dhang then murmured, “We will have you at a private event Friday, but I want you Thursday as well. I will send the car right after work. Be out as soon as possible.”
And as usual, the line suddenly went dead, and Christine sat, overwhelmed. At the other end, Dhang leaned back and allowed her assistant to pleasure her, knowing it was almost time, and much earlier than she wished, to have her ‘whore’ make a decision.
* * * *
“Yes, Julia,” Silverberg answered into his receiver.
“Afternoon boss, just thought I’d let you know that there are rumblings the Koreans may be clearing out soon. All of them.”
“Including Dhang? Where is this coming from?”
“Yes, I think Dhang too, although this is not confirmed, I’m still following up. Just thought you should know.” She paused, “It is from a reliable source, Sir,” she smiled.
“Good, Julia, and who would that be?”
Sullivan paused. “The hotel cleaning staff.”
Silverberg smiled. “Roger that.”
* * * *
Now approaching four, Gerry had signalled to Christine and the two of them had sauntered down to the library and were now sitting at the same table she and Sullivan were at the day before.
“So,” Gerry began, “we obviously won’t, uh, play around at work, but you are serious about us having some fun at the house?”
Christine nodded, saying quietly, “I am. Miss Gerry.”
“You will obey me at the house?”
“I plan to use you and punish you.”
Christine swallowed, feeling the familiar surge, which was interesting, being prompted by a house mate; she nodded again, whispering, “Yes.”
Gerry smiled and nodded her own head. “Okay, we’ll keep it simple, for now, and see where it goes. You’ll be naked in our room at all times. All times, no exceptions. You will pleasure me in the morning and at night, on your knees. I will spank you every day and you will accept it. You will be on your knees whenever I enter the room, no matter who I am with. That’s it, really.”
Christine looked across at the attractive brown face. “I agree, Miss Gerry. The only problem is Madame Dhang. I still have the commitment to her.”
“I know, and that was in place already, so we’ll work around it.”
They regarded each other warmly, Christine asked, “Will I be able to sleep with you?”
Gerry grinned. “I’m thinking yes, but I’ll make that call, Slave-girl. Who knows, I may have you sleep on the floor.”
Christine smiled self-consciously. “As you wish, Miss Gerry.”
(End of Chapter 16)