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A Mask of Love by LongDarkRoad Chapter 7 Let Go Of That Which Cannot Be Mended

A Mask of Love

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 07 Let Go of That Which Cannot Be Mended   

“So here you go, Dear.” Carol Douglas announced, placing a sheet of paper on the coffee table beside the couch Lauren was lying on. Carol was dressed smartly in one of her expensive suits, as she was off to a board meeting, continuing the process of discarding and wrapping up much of her business.

She still wasn’t totally comfortable with what her daughter was up to; however, including why she had returned at all, but she was willing to at least work with her, the young woman’s comments hitting home.

Lauren had asked for an opportunity to work in one of the many companies that Carol owned or controlled; was there a chance for a fresh start for her?

Was there? Carol thought. What harm was there in at least trying?

“Thanks, Mom. See you later?” Lauren commented, glancing at the paper and then up to her mother.

Carol pondered; her mistress would expect her tonight, but maybe that could be after dinner? “I’ll call you. I would like to have dinner with you; how would that be?”

“Sure. See ya’.”

****

In her office, Kendra Chand was having trouble wading through the dry and complicated deed transfer documents before her. Not only was it a boring task, but her mind kept running back to the weekend and all that had happened; a.k.a., the opposite of boring.

It had occurred to her, as they were ‘welcoming’ the newest arrival Meg and her modest collection of boxes yesterday, that it was a good thing she had decided on buying a larger house. At the time it had meant the need for her to find housemates, and ones that actually became financial partners (and friends), but now the extra room, and rooms were becoming necessary.

Meg would not have her own room; she would sleep in Jessica’s room or the ‘Dungeon’ as her mistress decided, but she still had boxes to stash. And then there was the guitar. Meg’s guitar, and what it stood for, was something that raised questions.

Meg was a singer; a performer. In talks with Jessica it was clear that that part of her life was not something she wished to just give up. Meg’s modest income from her part-time job was inconsequential, but she identified as a performer, an artist. Her guitar was symbolic of that. Could Jessica take that away?

The discussion was left as ’to be continued’, and the guitar was placed in the storage area of the basement; but it would not rest easy.

****

Lauren looked over the list prepared by her mother; it was typical Carol Douglas, organized and efficient, the seventeen company names listed alphabetically. Included were businesses in Toronto and its adjacent smaller cities, plus Ottawa and Montreal. Sitting in place at number seven was HeyThere! V-Streams, the company that Simon wished to pursue.

“Hi,” Lauren said as Dawn answered, “I have info, put the man on, D”

“Hey Bitch, dat’s cool; here he is. Oh, btw, happy Fourth. Your holiday sucks,” she chuckled.

In a moment, Cutter’s clipped and precise voice came on. He was, even if he didn’t show it, very pleased and a little excited by Lauren’s progress, but he had only given her a little bit to start with, not trusting her by loading too much on her plate. It was encouraging that she had called before stumbling forward on her own, and Cutter now spent several minutes outlining clearly her next steps; then having her recite back what she was expected to do. When he was satisfied that she was good to go, he ended the call.

Lauren now sat in thought; how far could she trust

Simon Cutter? Was this a betrayal of her mother? Did that matter?

Her life had become more complicated in the last twenty-four hours.

****

Lia Robinson also sat in thought, at work. Her partner had taken a new arrival down for interrogation but Lia had begged off, “Paper work”, she had lied. She really wasn’t into the thing they did, not tonight. The weekend had given her lots of sexual release, but it wasn’t just that.

Her mind was on Lillian Clark, and the fact that in just over a week she would turn eighteen. But do I really need to wait ‘til then to bring her home? She wondered, and was lost again in thought.

****

Her business concluded, Carol was seated in the back of her Cadillac as her driver wound her way through modest Monday traffic, heading back home. Carol took a chance and texted Kendra and was delighted when her cell rang a minute or two later.

“Mistress,” Carol murmured warmly.

Kendra chuckled softly before replying, “Well, my wee muff muncher, meetings concluded?”

“Yes, Mistress, and I was hoping you had plans for your obedient girl. I would like to have dinner with Lauren but I will do as told.” Carol could not help but smile at the words coming from her mouth and the arousal they gave her. What a Slut-slave I am, she pondered; her mistress was right.

Kendra smiled as well; when you are naturally dominant, submissive actions, even words, make you smile. “You have my permission to have dinner with your daughter, but be at my house by eight. Dress casual in slacks and a top and wear nothing underneath. Oh, and make sure you have one of the new butt plugs I gave you in. Got all that?”

Carol began to feel the heat starting between her legs; it was amazing, really. A simple conversation with another human being and yet it produced this arousal. She shook her head in wonder and replied. “I understand, my mistress, and will show my…gratitude, completely.”

After the call ended, Carol permitted herself a little giggle. She already had a butt plug in.

****

Jessica and Meg sat at the table in their kitchen. Oddly, Meg was wearing clothes, as Jessica wanted to talk with her as…Meg the regular woman. “So, how do you, um, feel about, hmmmm, things?” Jessica asked, a little cautiously, and sipped some black tea.

Meg brushed an auburn curl from her face and looked up at her…mistress. Saying the word in her mind made her smile. “Well,” she smiled again, this time self-consciously; it was so much easier to sit on the stage and sing to an audience of strangers, something that would rattle many people, than do this. To talk seriously about feelings to someone one cared for, deeply.

More than deeply, really. What she felt for Jessica was new, she had truly never felt this degree of…love? Devotion? Desire? Whatever word came out, it meant something serious, and she found it difficult to discuss.

“Welllll, as far as things go, I want to be with you. I, um, want to, fuck this is hard.” She smiled and looked down, took a deep breath and continued. “I want to be yours, to belong to, um, you. I have never thought of, you know, the slave, um, thing. But, yeah, I want to be your slave, I guess. Not a slave, see, but your slave.” When she looked up, it was directly into Jessica’s eyes, her own eyes shining.

Jessica reached out and stroked Meg’s lovely face, her soft, perfect skin. “And, the deal, the, um roles we explained, you can do that?”

Meg giggled softly at the thought. “Yes, here, in this place, your place, I will be who, and um, what, you want and I’ll do what you want. Because it’s for you, right?”

“Ok, so tell me the plan.” Jessica looked at Meg with a small smile playing on her lips. This was exciting, and a little stressful. In the back of Jessica’s mind was the thought that at any moment Meg would ‘wake up’ and yell, “What the Hell is going on?”

But she didn’t; she spoke quietly, evenly, controlling the obvious emotion. “In your house, I will be your pet, Cindy-Lou, or the House Maid. Or sexy Sapphire, a hot, insatiable bitch.” She smiled at this.

The two women sat in silence, their breasts rising and falling together on either side of the table. Jessica spoke quietly, “And if you are obedient, your mistress will allow you out, in the world, to be, um, Meg, and that includes…Meg the performer.”

There was silence again, both women focusing on the white tablecloth that covered the table between them.

****

As his daughter was discussing her relationship, four hours away in Toronto her father Kevin was wrapping things up. He would be leaving direct communications in the hands of his capable assistant ‘Sunday’ (my girl ‘Friday’ he always joked, ‘is named Sunday.’ Kevin generally laughed louder at the joke than Sunday, who only smiled. She liked her boss, but he could be something of a nerd).

“So, you really don’t know when you’re coming back?” Sunday looked up through her round spectacles, concern showing clearly on her face.

“Don’t worry, kid. You’ll be great. I’ve concluded all my deals, there really shouldn’t be anything for you to do but relay info to me. And computers make the world small, right?” Kevin assured her, although she still looked doubtful.

“Yeah sure, Mr. G. But I hope you’re right.”

“I’m right, Sunday, trust me.”

Kevin Greenfield sounded more confident than he felt, but at least he was finally doing something. He didn’t know how Meg would react, but he had waited years for this, and he couldn’t wait any longer.

****

Unless one was watching very carefully, one would not have noticed ‘Sphinx’, a short, Asian girl, slip something into Lillian Clark’s hand as, during a ‘shift change’, the two girls passed each other. Since both girls were only wearing bras and panties, as one was leaving the drug packaging room and the other was entering, Lillian needed to be crafty in what she did with the note. All the girls under Loess’s roof knew the rules: no talking of any kind with each other. None, and the rules were enforced.

As humans do, however, the girls had found ways, brief and dangerous as they were, to communicate. What Sphinx had given Lillian was the title of a book (Bad Endings by Carleigh Baker) the older girl believed the younger, indigenous girl should read. Lillian, even with her difficulties with reading, was determined to have a look at this book. It was about her people; her heritage; her ancestry. Things her own mother had denied her by not living with other native peoples. Living instead on the fringe of ‘white’ society.

Something in Lillian was needing information, and hopefully understanding. She was tired of drifting.

As Lillian was surreptitiously tucking the tiny paper roll just under her panty band, the front door opened, and Lia Robinson’s imposing bulk filled the doorway.

****

Jessica sat on one couch, drinking tea. Kendra sat on the opposite one, drinking wine. On the carpet between them, the coffee table moved off to one side, Carol Douglas lay, naked of course. Above her face, in a classic sixty-nine, was the trimmed bush and enticing labia of Sapphire, wearing dark nylons and nothing else, although her face was different. The Mistresses had added dark eye shadow and bright red lipstick and back-combed her thick, auburn tresses into a wild, mane. ‘A sexy beast’, Kendra had remarked.

“I think Carol-Slave is enjoying this too much,” Kendra commented to her housemate with a smirk, noting the attentiveness with which the older woman’s tongue was caressing the younger woman’s fleshy folds.

“Yeah, we’re not much when it comes to punishment Mistress K. Our slaves have too much fun, period. We need to go to dungeon school or something,” Jessica replied, chuckling at her own joke. “But it is nice to watch, eh? Better than most of what’s on cable, right?”

Kendra sipped some wine and smiled; she agreed. She looked up as the door opened and Lia entered, followed by the tall, attractive Lillian Clark. Kendra looked with surprise and interest. She had forgotten just how beautiful the girl was.

****

Carol Douglas sat at the ancient, oak desk in her home office; the desk had been her father’s and she felt comfortable with its solid presence. She was finishing paperwork associated with today’s meetings, but her mind kept straying. Visions of vaginas kept coming to her; it should be the name of a new sitcom, she mused with a smile, The Vagina Visions. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by a gentle knock on her door, followed by the entry of Lauren.

After the usual greetings, Lauren lay the paper which Carol had given her in the morning down on the desk; four companies were highlighted, two in Ottawa, one in Toronto (Markham, actually) and one in…Montreal.

Carol smiled up at her daughter, “And…?”

Lauren fidgeted for a moment; she didn’t want to mess up Cutter’s instructions. “Well, um, those ones interest me. Um, can I ask you a coupl’a questions, or are you busy with something?”

Carol put down her pen. “No, this is fine. Ask your questions, please Dear.”

For the next minute or two, Lauren asked three, simple prepared questions about the three companies that were just decoys, and then she went to where she was to go. ”So this company, I’ve actually heard of it. TBH, I’m surprised you are involved…”

“Why?” Carol asked, although she had a feeling; it was a newish company, one suggested by a young assistant. Carol herself knew little of it, yet her accountants told her it had been a smart investment. Sometimes you’re lucky. She smiled at that, also that she knew what TBH meant.

“Well, it’s just that…”

“It’s just not the sort of company a middle-aged woman would own?” Carol finished with her eyebrows raised and a little smirk on her face.

Lauren chuckled, “Um, yeah. On point, Mom, that’s it. It, sort’a stood out for me and I’m like, what’s my mom doing with this?” They both chuckled. “Is it something I should check out? Do you, like, plan to keep it long? Whaddya’ think?”

Carol pondered. There was so much she could tell her daughter, but that would likely not be wise. She could tell her, a little.

“This one, I’m not sure. I’m sort of cutting down on my holdings; I have more things on the go than I need. But no matter what happens with this, if it interests you I would support you. It is based in Montreal, you know. You’d need to speak French.”

Lauren stood silently for a moment, then picked up the paper. “Thanks, Mom, that’s great, for now. I’ll talk with you again tomorrow, ok?”

“Sure, Dear.” Carol murmured as Lauren, surprisingly, kissed the top of her head and left, softly closing the door.

****

Kevin Greenfield set his cell alarm. He wanted to head for Ottawa early enough to arrive mid-morning and avoid the heaviest traffic. He had his condo rented and furnished. He was ready to go. For now he just needed to sleep, but that wasn’t happening.

He lay looking at the ceiling, his mind going like crazy.

****

Kendra unlocked the door. It was midnight, but she wanted to speak, privately, with their newest arrival. They had placed Lillian in a downstairs room that could be used as a bedroom; it had no windows but did have a small, two-piece bath right in it. This was one of Kendra’s renovations; having a self-contained space was likely a good idea, she had considered at the time the workmen were putting in the ‘fun room’, so she had added this renovation to the list.

A good idea it was, and Kendra entered the room quietly, to find Lillian sitting on the bed, still fully clothed, although some night clothes had been given to her. They sat beside her on the bedspread.

The two women eyed each other silently for a moment, Kendra searching the light brown face for…anything. Lillian sat with her mask of acceptance, her dark eyes giving nothing away.

“We don’t intend to lock you in, um, for ever, Lillian.” Kendra said quietly, clasping her hands together in front and standing awkwardly; the girl’s silence was daunting.

Lillian gave a slight shrug with her shoulders, barely a twitch, but it was enough to shake her lovely, full breasts. Clearly she was not wearing a bra. She continued to regard Kendra in silence, her face was not defiant, simply unmoving. Kendra struggled for a moment with conflicting emotions; she wanted to reach out and cup one of those breasts; she also wanted to slip an arm around the athletic shoulders of this young woman and tell her it was going to be okay. She did, neither, just stood.

“But you did. Whatever.” Lillian finally spoke, quietly.

The rich voice startled Kendra for a moment; it was deeper than she anticipated, more womanly than she expected, more enticing than the innocent face that stared impassively behind it. “Have what?” Kendra asked, unsure.

“Locked me in.”

****

Lauren Douglas was on her cell phone much earlier than usual, for her; it was eight-fifteen. In the morning. But she knew Simon Cutter was an early riser and she wanted to get her info to him.

Simon listened to Lauren’s rushed flow, thinking again that she was like a twelve-year-old and he would cut ties with her as soon as she had served him. After she finally stopped, he began. “So what I think you’re saying is that this company is likely available, but you’ve, em, presented it as a potential job for you. So, listen carefully my dear, you need to let Mommie-dear know that you have a, em, friend, a business-guy, who is very, no, just say, interested, in this particular company.”

Lauren sat, considering, “But my mom will want to know more about you.”

Cutter felt his usual annoyance rising rapidly; he had a short fuse and many things; noise, smells, people, could light the fuse. He worked to calm his breathing. He had spent longer on this, and more money than he intended, and he just needed this fucking little girl to follow directions. Why was there always questions?

“Lauren, forget that, forget questions. Just give your mother my number.”

Lauren paused again, until Cutter’s agitated voice prompted her, “What if she just, like, ignores that. She’s busy…”

“Look it, kid, I’m running out of time and patience. My condo lease expires this month, and I intend to be done and out before then. Just get the info to her and try not to fuck anything up, right? Okay?”

Lauren paused again, aware of not annoying the man any more, but wanting to be clear. “What, um, what happens to me, like, when this is all over?”

Now Cutter sat in silence. He wanted to say, no, he actually wanted to yell, that it didn’t matter, or that he hadn’t given that idea a moment’s thought, which he hadn’t, but he simply sighed and said, “We’ll talk, okay. Now get on with it.”

The call ended.

****

Kendra was able to work from home today and that was a good thing; she had a lot to deal with and little had to do with any of the cases she was working on. Right now she was sitting in the living room with Jessica and Lillian. Lia had, with a lot of grumbling, headed off to the Detention Centre, with day shift all this week. Earlier Meg had been taken to the bookstore by her mistress and would be coming home by transit. Carol Douglas was at her home but had already had two conversations with her mistress.

“Ok, Lillian, I wanted you here to listen to what Jessica and I are going to say, so that you know where we’re at involving, um, you, and this…situation, and, um, what options, you know, there are?” Lillian gazed back with mild, emotionless eyes. She had not spoken today at all, but had accepted some toast and juice.

Jessica was regarding her with interest and a certain, reverence, like one might a large, wild, exotic bird. Lillian simply tilted her head at Kendra’s words.

Kendra sighed and began. “This is a problem, Jess.”

Jessica was aware of Kendra’s feelings of discomfort when it came to the young woman sitting two feet from her on the couch, but being as far away emotionally as possible. She did not know, however, just what Kendra’s concerns were or what plans, if any, might be roaming around in that fertile imagination. “How so, Queen K?” Jessica smiled, and Lillian actually glanced at her, but did not speak.

“Well, and I’m not feeling good with discussing this without Lia, but I think you and I need to lay out our cards, so to speak. At least that is what I’m hoping for, because I do intend to talk to, well, confront actually, Lia on this. That’s what I want Lillian to hear, that this, whatever is happening with her and this house, is not some shared plan. I do not think Lia and I see eye to eye on Lillian.

But before Jessica could reply, Lillian spoke in that surprising, dark voice. “But here you’ve got me, and talk like I’m not here.” She said evenly, with a slight shrug of her shoulders, her face expressionless.

Kendra looked at her and leaned forward. “But that’s why you’re sitting here with us. I want to hear you; I want you to hear us. I want you to speak out.”

“And so I speak out and say I wish to go, then what? You’ll let me walk out the f’n door?”

“No, I won’t,” Kendra said mildly as Lillian snorted and Jessica snickered. “But hear me out. Where would you go? You have no money. You have no identification. You have been arrested but not processed. You have a drug-dealing boyfriend out there who knows you could rat him out. I’m not going to just let you walk out the door, at least not today. But I want, look at me Lillian please, I want to say this to you directly.” When Lillian raised her beautiful face to her, Kendra continued in an earnest voice, “I want you to be able to leave if you wish, someday soon, when you have something to leave for.”

The room was silent; Jessica was madly imagining Lia’s reaction to this, but yet she could see Kendra’s point.

Kendra continued. “You know the problem, Jess. And it’s not Lillian’s age. She turns eighteen very soon.”

Jessica looked from one woman to the other. When she spoke there was no snicker or sarcasm in her tone; she was being as genuine as she could be. “The problem is that Lillian is not here on her own, um, accord, I guess it would be. She’s a prisoner, of sorts. And that is not what we wanted.”

Kendra nodded her head sagely, and Jessica continued, “But our friend wants her.”

Kendra nodded again; that was the problem in the proverbial nutshell.

(End of Chapter 07)

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A Mask of Love by LongDarkRoad Chapter 6 Fate Has Given You One Face; You Make Yourself Another

A Mask of Love

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 06

Fate Has Given You One Face; You Make Yourself Another   

The celebration was underway. It had begun with the “parade of Slaves”, as Jessica had laughingly announced it; Carol, Meg and Allie, in single file, coming to stand side by side in the living room, before undressing and then kneeling. After each had been spanked several times by their mistresses, collars were attached and the slaves were led downstairs.

Here, the mistresses could decide on what would happen and how much. Allie was tied to the x-cross, facing out. Carol was tied on the pad atop the cage, and Meg was placed inside the cage, but not before Mistress Jessica presented her pet with a gift.

“What the Hell is that, girl?” Lia had asked, as Jessica held up a furry object.

“This is a genuine fox tail, and this is how it works.” Jessica replied, placing Meg with her head down and her ass up. Applying gel generously to the round, metal end of the ‘tail’, Jessica inserted the bulb-like knob, being about two inches long, into Meg’s lubed anus. Once in, the tail, which was faux fur, hung down between Meg’s legs; just like a real tail.

Jessica walked her pet around a little before guiding her into the cage, with both Lia and Kendra making smart comments.

“Hope that bitch’s b’en fixed,” Lia mocked. Kendra laughed and lit three candles, handing Jessica and Lia one each. “Ok, Mistresses, let’s decorate our playthings; you’ll notice the candles are red and white, in honor of the day.” The ladies laughed, and then began dripping hot wax onto the nipples of their ‘guests’. Happy Canada Day indeed.

****

“It’s a holiday,” Dawn explained, “we have the Fourth coming up on Monday, this is Canada’s celebration.”

Cutter finished his scrambled eggs, while looking at his laptop, with one ear to his assistant. “But for what?” he asked, looking at some stock numbers on his screen.

“It’s, like the day the country was named, or something. I dunno, I just know it’s like a national holiday. Banks and shit are closed. That’s just the deal, boss.” Cutter remained focused on his screen, Dawn watching him. “You want me to get Lauren?”

Cutter sipped his espresso (he’d had his own unit shipped up from Cleveland) and searched for a moment on his screen. “No, emmm, not right now. Here.” He handed Dawn a piece of paper. “Text that number and have that girl, her name’s Cherry…” He chuckled darkly, “come over. Hire her for two hours. Of course, remind her it’s for a couple, man and woman.”

Dawn looked at the number and then texted it; she’d done this several times before. Cutter enjoyed watching her and other girls, besides Lauren, have sex; and then he would take part when he chose. “Make sure she does bareback bj.’s.” Cutter concluded, typing on his laptop as Dawn typed on her cell; she knew all this, but didn’t say anything in response. The boss liked to be the boss.

After a couple of reply texts, Dawn spoke, “It’s four hundred if you come in her mouth. She doesn’t swallow.” She said, in a business-like manner.

“Canadian dollars?” Cutter snorted, “Deal.” He turned to face Dawn, “Tell her to be here for two.”

Dawn nodded.

****

Lauren walked around the large home in her socks; the house was quiet, the two regular staff that looked after her mother and the place having been given the day off.

After grabbing some yogurt from the large, impressive refrigerator (it seemed everything in this house was large and impressive, from the front doors to the winding staircase, to the wall-mounted televisions to the appliances) Lauren headed to the den. Something worth watching might be on television, although Lauren didn’t watch a lot of regular t.v.; she wondered if her mother had packages like HBO or Netflix. Where was her mother, by the way?

And it was odd she hadn’t heard anything from Cutter or Dawn. Hmmmm, she thought, settling herself into a (surprise) large leather chair; it was odd.

****

Late afternoon and the Mistresses were feeling satisfied; they now lay or sat around in the living room. After having the slave-girls together in the open shower, using soft brushes to scrub each other’s intimate places as their overseers looked on, commenting and directing (and laughing) the women had been placed in one of the large dog crates, huddled naked, bound and gagged together.

Although it was a little early for drinking, the mistresses felt, it being a holiday and all, that they could celebrate. Kendra and Jessica were sipping their wine as Lia nursed her scotch. “So, girls, what do you think?” Kendra asked with a huge grin on her face.

“I think slaves are exhausting,” Jessica announced, as she lay full out on a couch. Lia and Kendra chuckled in response as Jessica added, “but in a good way, right. A very good way, so cool it’s fucking ice-cold, sisters.”

“What’s the deal with, um, Allie, um, Slave?” Lia asked and Jessica swung her legs around and sat up. All three women had used the girl hard and she had responded.

“Hey, she’s, you know, evolving as a whaddya-call-it?”

“Submissive.” Kendra said.

“Yeah, one of those, evolving, you know, just like us. Queen Kendra here probably gets this more than either of us, ‘cuz of her experience, right KC?” Jessica looked at her housemate and arched her eyebrows.

Kendra pursed up her lips, “Yep, I think she is a closet submissive who is just discovering herself. But it’s different strokes for different folks, eh ladies?”

“Meaning what?” Lia looked up.

Kendra folded her hands and looked like a professor about to give a lecture. “Meaning, you’ve got your pain, you’ve got your humiliation, you’ve got your desire to give up control, to belong to someone; lots of, um, variation. And then you’ve got different actual fetishes, you know, like clothing, certain objects, certain roles, like nurses or nannies, whatever; you never know what will trigger a response. And make no mistake, fellow Queens of Malice (Jessica snorted) there always needs to be reward. For the slave that likes you to piss in her mouth, you’ve got to put aside your bias and accept that, for them, that’s a reward.”

“Gross,” Lia remarked.

“Whatever,” Kendra replied. “But with our little slave, I think we’re pushing some buttons with Allie-Cat and she’s like, I don’t know, a freebie. Now, when you get your sweet piece Lillian in here, Lia, Allie might become a house slave or some such thing. Who knows? We are kind of making this up as we go along, right?”

Her housemates nodded, then Jessica asked, “How long we gonna’ keep ‘em down in the cages?”

“Ummmm, a little while longer, eh? They need a break,” Kendra chuckled.

“And so do we.” Jessica murmured, stretching back out on the couch. “So do we.”

****

Cherry’s lips moved up and down Simon Cutter’s glistening erection; they were, not surprising given her name, bright red. She was certainly skillful, one hand effectively massaging Cutter’s shaved testicles while the other furiously pumped his shaft as she sucked.

While she worked, Cherry herself was being stimulated orally (in fact, Dawn was so successfully doing her job that Cherry had needed to pause once and ask Dawn to slow down; she was finding it difficult to concentrate on her own task). Dawn at that moment was lying beneath the slim, young woman and had her face buried between the shapely, tanned legs, sucking the remarkably large labia found there, lost momentarily in the scene.

Cherry could now sense Cutter getting close and she became very focused. A few moments later everything worked out, with Cutter groaning loudly and bucking as Cherry took his ejaculate into her mouth, paused for a moment, then headed for the bathroom with her handbag, which held a container of extra-strength, antibacterial mouth wash.

It’s the only way she would ever consider a bbbj, even for someone as apparently upscale as Simon Cutter.

However, she did return to Dawn quickly and sat on the willing girl’s eager mouth. “Oh, God, Hun, you need to finish me,” Cherry commanded and Dawn responded, giving the girl a nice release. A few minutes later, Cherry and Dawn lay together, relaxing as Cutter remained, eyes closed, lying quietly on his own; his choice.

“He’s particular that way,” Dawn remarked quietly as Cherry kissed the side of her face, being just as happy with this arrangement, even okay with Sonny Rollins’s sweet sax playing on the sound surround in the background.

****

Meg was kneeling by her mistress’s feet, as Jessica gently stroked her. She was wearing the pink collar and nothing else. The tail, which had been removed for a couple of hours, was back in place. Jessica brought Meg’s face up and directed the girl’s mouth to her left breast and nipple, and Meg sucked contentedly like a babe, with Jessica still stroking the soft, auburn hair.

“Is, Cindy-Lou a happy, pet?” Jessica murmured.

“Ummmm, hmmmm,” Meg murmured in response, heat spreading to her loins at this question, her mouth remaining fixed on her mistress’s nipple, as contented as she could ever remember being.

Jessica felt a pleasant surge as well, swelling within her at this response; she considered her next question, then asked it; one might as well know. “Does, Cindy-Lou…want to live with her mistress?” Jessica asked quietly.

Meg moaned and pressed her face into Jessica’s armpit, “Ummmm, oh, uh, mmmmm, ye-yes, Mistress.”

“You would be, my pet.” Jessica murmured, and Meg made a sound comprised of a moan and a cry, while desperately wanting to grasp between her legs, but prevented from doing this as her hands were tied behind her.

Jessica swung around and lifted Meg’s face up to her, hungrily kissing the mouth as Meg responded in kind, the two women sucking and licking each other’s lips and faces. Jessica then held Meg tightly, whispering fiercely into her ear. “I want you. I want you here with me. Ummmmm, fuck. Ohhhh, fuck, fuck, FUCK, I want you!”

Jessica slowly became aware that Meg was crying, and she held the girl away and looked at her; Meg’s eyes were closed and tears were running down her face; she began sobbing.

It took her a few moments to regain composure and then Meg looked up at Jessica, who smiled, looking back with a sort of wonder at this display. “What is it my, mmm, girl?” she asked gently.

Meg responded by lifting up and kissing Jessica’s face, several times, before now whispering in her turn. “I, uh, I love you, ummmmm, oh jeez. Uhhhmm. Ohhh, God. I love you. That, that’s what it is. I fucking love you; I want to be yours, oh fuck….” Meg was breathing hard, her face pressed against Jessica’s throat.

The two women were silent now, with Jessica reaching around and untying Meg’s bonds. “Do you want to be my pet?” Jessica asked, and Meg began to cry again. She didn’t answer, just nodded her head up and down several times emphatically, smiling even as the tears ran down her cheeks, bewildered by her feelings.

****

“So, you don’t want Lauren over today?” Dawn asked Cutter as he sat watching a movie on his laptop, Cherry long gone.

“No, that’s fine. We’ll have her over tomorrow, and see where she is with our, plans.”

“Ok, boss, see you tomorrow.” Dawn replied, heading for the door herself.

“Right.” Cutter acknowledged without looking up.

On her way down to her car, Dawn texted Lauren, who replied and asked Dawn if she wanted to come by. Dawn had heard about Douglas’s home and was interested, so in a few minutes she was headed over there.

Lauren put down her cell; it was kind of creepy being in the large house alone; she was happy at the thought of company. And she still hadn’t heard from her mother.

What the fuck could she be doing? She thought again.

It would of course have blown her mind to know that, that, was exactly what she had been doing.

****

“So you think I should do what?” Jessica asked, looking over at Kendra. They were both lying on couches now, so she could not see her friend’s face. They had been chatting about ‘the girls’ some more and Jessica had shared the exchange she had had with Meg.

“Ok, let me work through this, because it’s just an idea that came to me. So,” Kendra paused and then sat up, “Jess, sit up, I want to look at you as I say this, because I’m still working things out, ok?”

“Sure.” Jessica replied, sitting and looking with interest across to the other couch.

“Ok, so, I’m thinking with your sweet Cindy-Lou a.k.a.

Meg, she needs to have more than one, um, personality.” Jessica just looked at her friend so Kendra continued. “You can’t have her as uh, a dog, you know, all the time.”

“Why?” Jessica asked simply.

“You’re not going to kiss her? Screw her? How can you screw um, a dog?” Jessica stared now in thought; this idea, more a problem really, had been sliding around in her mind, but she had managed to elude facing it; until now.

Jessica nodded slowly, “Yeah, I get that. So, um, where are you going with this?”

Kendra made a face and shrugged her shoulders. “So remember, this is something different for me, but it’s really all about role-playing. I thought of it after my first, uh, session with Carol-Slave. She went from licking my shoes and prostrating herself before me, to a board meeting. Goddamn! A board meeting with stuffy folks in suits and she sat there all prim. That’s some serious role-playing, girl. If Meg can slide into this, you know, ‘Pet’ role, and she looked pretty comfortable walking beside you on a leash, today; Christ, who says she can’t, you know, change roles?” Kendra paused, out of breath.

Jessica continued to nod her head slowly, a smile spreading across her pretty face. She looked into Kendra’s eyes, “I’m guessing, oh Queen of Ideas, that you’ve got more?”

Kendra chuckled, and took a breath. “Yeah, well, sex is kinda’ my thang; I can say that ‘cause Lia ain’t around,” she grinned. “Anyway, yeah, I have thought a little. Mostly ‘cause when I saw cute Cindy-Lou’s sweet ass strutting around today I wanted some of that, but I’m not into, uh, dogs, ok? Plus, how can you share your girl, if that’s, like, the deal, right?”

Jessica nodded again, looking a little like the person with the light bulb over their head.

****

“AAAAaaahhhh,” Dawn cried out, her hands in Lauren’s soft, brown hair.

Lauren looked up from her place between Dawn’s thighs, her face wet. “That was good?” she asked, her eyes bright. She liked pleasing Dawn, more than she did Cutter, actually. Well, a lot more really. Even when you pleased him, there was a coldness.

“Jee-zus girl, you need to ask!?” Dawn purred, gently stroking Lauren’s head, eyes closed, “get up here, little ho’?” she said, and Lauren clambered up to lay against the soft, brown body.

“I love your skin,” Lauren murmured, running her fingers gently up one leg and then an arm.

“MMmmmm, that’s good, sugar, just lie still by me now, momma needs to sleep.” Dawn smiled, her eyes still closed.

Lauren snuggled in, kissing Dawn’s face. “Happy Canada Day,” she whispered.

“What?” Dawn said, quietly. “What do I care about that shit?”

“You’re here, aren’t you? In Canada, I mean? Might as well enjoy.”

Dawn smiled, “Lie still, little one. I’m enjoying just fine, thanks,” she murmured.

****

“So,” Jessica summarized, “my girl is Cindy-Lou when she’s my pet, Meg the Maid when she’s available to us all, doing stuff around here, serving us, like that, and then she’s, uh, Sapphire, when we want her to get sexy and be our, like, fuck-toy. Hmmmm. It all seems possible, if my Meg is cool with it. If she looks at me like I’m crazy, then what?”

Kendra spread her hands, “It is what it is, but you need to try, right? She said she wants to move in, so that’s a pretty major statement, Jess.”

“Yeah.” Jessica pondered for a minute. “So what are you doing about your Mommy-Slave?”

“Well, she’s staying tonight, which is something. She didn’t flinch at being used by you and Lia, and our big girl used her pretty hard….”

“I noticed,” Jessica added.

“But she was good with everything. When I finally let her come she just, um, gushed,” Kendra chuckled softly, remembering, “then she lay like a fish on the dock, dazed; smiling like a motherf….”

“She is a mother,” Jessica snorted.

“Yeah, yeah, right. You know what I mean. I’m back to rewards. Everybody needs to get something outta’ the deal for it to work; we don’t need to know all the psycho-babble about what turns your crank. Mommy-Slave got her big ‘O’ and was like a kitten with a saucer of milk, just lappin’ it up. She digs it, who cares why.” Kendra paused and considered, then continued, “She, um, wants me to start selling stuff off and managing her financials for her.”

Jessica looked at her friend. “I thought she had, like, accountants for that shit?”

“She does. Only like a legion of ‘em. But she trusts me, who knows?”

“And where does her daughter fit into all this?” Jessica asked.

Kendra looked back at her with an odd expression. “Damned if I know.”

****

Lauren looked at the text message; stared at it, really. It was from her mom announcing she was out somewhere and would be back in the morning. What was going on? Cutter would not be happy with where things were at. Shit, Lauren thought, why wasn’t this easier?

****

Kendra came bustling in the door, followed by Allie, both carrying bags and boxes. Kendra had been out as early as the stores were open and had taken Allie along “as my mule”, she had laughed. Now they moved into the living room and began spreading the boxes out on the couches, Lia and Jessica coming to watch.

“Where are the other two?” Kendra asked.

“Downstairs, waiting. We were not sure how you wanted to do this. We had them shower together.”

“And piss,” Lia added with a grin. “That was fun. We made them spread their legs as they went and then wipe each other. They were embarrassed, but turned on. Fuck. You could tell,” Lia said and Jessica nodded in agreement.

Jessica added, “They are kneeling downstairs, with dildos in them; waiting for the queen.”

Kendra did a little bow and held up a skimpy skirt, “We have maid costumes. Hot ones. I think a woman wearing a little, uh, revealing clothing is sexier than a naked one. Anyway, we’ll have them serve us this morning as maids. C’mon Allie-Cat, get everything out and then get undressed.” 

Allie sped up her unpacking as Jessica and Lia stood with grins on their faces.

“Nothing like a slave that’s keen to get down to business,” Jessica laughed.

****

Marissa knocked gently on Lauren’s door. She had already checked with Mrs. Douglas and was surprised to find the woman was not home. “Ms. Douglas, would you like breakfast?” She asked in her respectful manner.

Lauren and Dawn both sat up in the large bed and Dawn spoke quietly into the side of Lauren’s face, “Tell her to make pancakes.” Lauren nodded and called out that request. “Very good, Miss.” Came the reply, followed by, “Any word on, um, Mrs. Douglas please?”

“No, sorry, Marissa,” the younger Douglas replied. That was still a mystery.

****

The three maids came in wearing their new outfits. They were strapless, sleeveless corset-style black and white garments with dark nylons attached to black garter belts, completed with black micro thongs visible from the back anytime the ‘maid’ bent forward, even slightly. An added feature at the bust line of the corset was an opening for the wearer’s nipples, if desired. Mistress Kendra had desired this, and the feature was being used as all three maids had their nipples jutting out, with small, black, modest strength clamps attached to them.

As well, each maid wore a wide, black, leather slave collar, fastened by a padlock. They were shoeless; “I don’t want them clacking around right now,” Mistress Kendra had decided. The maids carried trays with drinks of juice and coffee and plates of buttered toast. After serving their mistresses, the maids knelt by each of them, eyes averted as they had been instructed.

“Ain’t ‘dis loverly, li-dies?” Kendra asked in a decent British accent that caused everyone, maids included, to snicker.

Kendra then spoke in a mock stern voice, reprimanding the maids for making sounds without permission, “There will be punishment, disobedient sluts,“ she warned.

“I’m pretty sure there’s gonna’ be punishment anyway, there kids.” Jessica added, with Kendra and Lia laughing out loud and the maids suppressing their giggles.

****

Carol Douglas had finally headed for home, as had Allie. Lia was scheduled for a weekend shift and Kendra had joined Jessica as they took Meg home to gather up some things; she was moving in. Once in Meg’s tiny place, it had not taken them long to pack. Within an hour they were leaving with two boxes and one suitcase; Meg would not be needing much. Four other boxes sat taped and waiting for some movers. Jessica was going to have the boxes and Meg’s furniture put into storage. Six months from now the picture should be clearer.

At the Douglas home, Lauren heard Marissa greet her mother and waited until she heard the woman coming down the hall. She gave her a few minutes and then headed to the bedroom, knocking gently on the door.

“Come in, dear,” Carol said and Lauren entered and looked at her mother. She had changed somehow. She wasn’t the driven business woman, so focused on making money, that Lauren had left. She seemed…calmer? What had happened?

“Hey, uh, Mom. So, where’ve you b’in?”

Carol smiled at her daughter; she still wasn’t really comfortable with her or this relationship; yet. She wasn’t sure why Lauren had returned; she was willing to give the girl a chance but something was ‘niggling’ away at the back of her mind. “Oh, I was just with friends, dear,” she replied, noncommittedly.

“That’s, um, different, hey?”

“Emmm, what do you mean?”

Lauren paused, “Well, I just don’t remember you doing much with anyone before; it seemed like you were always about, you know, business.”

Carol considered this; it was true, for the most part. Before Lauren had left, Carol had spent more time on her projects and business in general, a little now and then with her husband, and then looking after her sexual needs, but that was a private thing. She had certainly never stayed away for a night when Lauren was around. “Well, yes, things can change, dear. Look at you, I would never have expected you to just, oh, return like this, out of the blue so to speak.”

They sat for a moment in silence, before Lauren replied. “Well, you can’t drift around for ever, hmmm? I need to do something with my life, and I needed to at least try to, like, connect with you. That’s something I have come to, um, appreciate like, you know, having someone that cares about you. Whatever, um, differences

we have had, you’re still…my mother.”

Yes, Carol thought, that was true.

(End of Chapter 06)

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A Mask of Love by LongDarkRoad Chapter 5 A False Face And A Good Lie May Well Succeed

A Mask of Love

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 05

A False Face And A Good Lie May Well Succeed   

“Hello, dear,” Carol Douglas said quietly, and cautiously.

There was a pause at the other end, as Lauren Douglas gathered herself. “Hey, mom. Thanks for, uh, getting back to me.”

It was Carol’s turn to pause, as a flood of emotions flowed through her. Memories of Lauren as a child; as a troublesome teen, and as an angry young woman, storming out. Lauren’s father, Carol’s first husband, had died when the girl was eleven. Two years later, Carol had married Allan, and Lauren and Allan had never gotten on. To be honest, when Lauren had headed off two years ago, a large part of Carol was relieved.

They had not actually spoken since; there had been a card at Christmas and Carol had sent money on Lauren’s birthday, but this moment was the first time the two had exchanged words since the day Lauren left. Carol really had no idea even where her daughter had been.

“No worries, as they say.” Carol continued to speak quietly, as if afraid of breaking some spell. “How are you, Lauren. There is so much…” Carol paused here, unable for a moment to speak.

****

Meg looked at her phone and considered; what should she say to Mary? It was such an odd feeling when she thought of the girl, who she had clearly been attracted to, but who had now been pushed to the back of her mind by the emotions she felt for; her mistress. Mistress. That word again, and the effect it had on her.

Meg could not refute the arousal, the desire she felt at the thought of Mistress Jessica; it was unexplainable but undeniable; was there any room for Mary? Her messages were simply non-committal updates, she was not on her way back. That would be something to deal with, when it happened. If it happened.

****

Kendra and Jessica sat side by side on the couch, Lia was still at work; they had given their ‘girls’ a night off. Before them on the coffee table was spread a ‘BDSM’ catalog; they were looking at ways to spend their unexpected windfall.

“There’s a table like you were discussing,” Jessica pointed out. “Or this one; it’s cool.”

“Yes!” Kendra responded. “And look at these special saw-horsey things.”

Jessica snickered. “Saw-horsey doesn’t sound very, um, dungeon-like, oh Queen of Darkness,” she added.

“You know what I mean.” Kendra paused. “Do we really want the, um, dungeon feel?”

Jessica shrugged, “We’re tyin’ people up and spankin’ them; that kinda sounds like a dungeon to me, Mistress K.”

Kendra chuckled, “Yeah, but it’s not dark and dank. You know, we need to get a couple of couches in there, to keep it cozy, before we get too crazy with the room. The delivery guys might freak.”

Jessica smirked and nodded. “Hey, don’t forget, we need a couple of large dog crates, too.”

Kendra nodded her head. “Right.”

****

Tuesday after her shift ended, Meg headed out to Jessica’s car, sitting in the back as directed. Part way on the journey back to the house, Meg went on to all fours as directed, and maintained this position, for several blocks, her butt level with the rear window, before her mistress ordered her to lift her dress and lower her panties, so that for the final few blocks, Meg’s bare ass was clearly visible through the window.

Upon arriving, Jessica went inside, leaving her pet in this exposed position for several minutes. The house was near the top of a cul-de-sac and it was doubtful anyone would come by or look inside. Still, both women were aroused by the scenario. When Jessica finally brought her pet inside, Meg was pleading to serve.

“My wittle Cindy-Woo wants some wovin’, hmmm?” Jessica crooned, as she placed the pink collar around the neck of her now naked pet. Jessica then spent a moment examining “Cindy’; pleased that the girl had followed directions and stopped shaving under her arms or under her crotch. Jessica wanted her pet to be as hairy as possible, for now. Like a real dog, she thought with a snicker.

****

“What is it, my slave?” Kendra asked as Carol was busy licking her bare feet.

Carol looked up with concern, “Why does my mistress ask that?” she spoke quietly.

Kendra stroked the soft, brown hair, and gently pulled a nipple, as her slave of course was performing her tasks naked. “I can see something is on your mind. You are, well, kind of transparent, Carol-Slave. Don’t ever play cards.”

Carol nodded and looked down. “My mistress is observant and correct. I, oh, I am, well, distracted. My, mmmm, daughter arrived home last night, unexpectedly. It has alarmed me. I am sorry, Mistress.”

A daughter, Kendra pondered, that is interesting.

****

When Kendra brought Carol into their house, the first thing she noticed was Meg kneeling in the living room, wearing a blindfold, her collar and nothing else. Jessica was sitting on one couch, a glass of wine in her hand.

Kendra, after talking for a while with Carol about her situation, had told her that they would follow this up more later, but for now she wanted to have a little fun. She knew for the next couple of days she would be busy with a complicated business take-over, and would be working late and bringing work home. She would not have time for her slave; so, tonight would be the night and it would be back at her place, since Jessica and Kendra had also decided they wanted their two ‘girls’ to be used together.

On Thursday the new slave-room equipment would arrive and, if everything worked out, Friday, a holiday, would see some serious fun and games.

Now, upon entering the living room, Carol was ordered to undress and stand with her hands behind her head as Mistresses Kendra and Jessica enjoyed viewing her. After a few moments, they had the woman masturbate for a while, as they commented on her technique.

Carol was then made to kneel behind Meg and directed to lick the girl’s genitals and ass, which she did quite enthusiastically, Meg’s attractive rear being quite tempting.

Then, after blindfolding Carol, both pet and slave were directed to make out with each other, as enthusiastically as possible. Once again, the two women needed little encouragement.

Eventually, Meg and Carol were brought to the carpet, kneeling before Jessica and Kendra, and providing oral sex for each mistress, before going down on each other. By eleven o’clock, all four women were satisfied and relaxed, with Carol now paired up with Jessica and Meg snuggled against Kendra, just for a change of pace.

It was decided that both pet and slave should go home tonight, as both mistresses needed to be at work relatively early on Wednesday, so a taxi was called and the two sent off.

Around midnight, Jessica and Kendra were just vegging out on the couches when Lia came home.

“You know, Jess, at some point it makes sense to have the, uh, girls, just stay here.” Kendra proposed.

Jessica nodded her head. “Meg would love that, but do you think Mrs. Moneypenny wants to give up her mansion for…this. No disrespect, but…?”

Kendra pondered this. “Well, Slave would still own her place; but, you know, it would be a good test, just to see if her, uh, devotion is a deep as she says.”

Both Lia and Jessica agreed. Carol Douglas was a special case; and her money was a bonus. A big bonus.

“She has a daughter.” Kendra announced.

“Really?” Jessica asked. “Details, lady. Details.”

Kendra smiled. “Don’t have much, toots.” Jessica snorted and Kendra continued. “Twenty-one. Took off a couple of years ago. Seems to have her shit together now and has returned.”

“How’s your, em, slave, handling that? She seemed pretty focused tonight.”

“Yeah, she’s into this, that’s for sure. But this daughter thing is bothering her. I’m sure of that, too.” Kendra remarked.

Everyone nodded their heads.

****

Cleveland, Ohio, March 2015

Lauren Douglas huddled under her coat, the cold creeping in as the night deepened. She wished she had more wine, but it was gone. She wasn’t sure what tomorrow would bring; maybe it was time to give in, and call her mother.

A car’s headlights illuminated the small, huddled figure as a silver Lexus moved slowly up the darkened street.

“There she is.” The woman in the passenger’s seat announced to Simon Cutter, driver of the car. Simon eased his vehicle to a stop near the bench the girl was occupying. His passenger, Dawn Haynes, an attractive, caramel-colored thirty-five year old who was also his assistant, got out and made her way to the figure.

In a few minutes the Lexus pulled away from the curb and headed for Cutter’s upscale condo, the young woman now sitting in the back.

****

Simon Cutter grunted and thrust hard. He was a slim, wiry man, and although he wasn’t bulky or particularly athletic-looking, he did jog and exercise and had muscled legs and abs, which he used now to drive his body forward and his cock deep into Lauren Douglas’s vagina; until he shook with his ejaculation.

He lay, covering the slim, petite woman, and breathing hard. Lauren held him gently, with caution as always, waiting for his next move. After a moment, Cutter extricated himself, cautiously as well, but still dripping a little on the sheets and cursing quietly.

He then sat on the edge of the bed and ran a slender hand through his short, flaxen hair. “That was great, Lore; fab. Pull the sheets off the bed after you clean yourself up, will ya’, babe? That’s a dear,” he said in his clipped way, as he stood and retrieved his jockeys.

Lauren proceeded to the ensuite in Simon’s bedroom and washed herself. Since ‘saving her‘ that cold night in Cleveland fifteen months ago, Lauren had become a sort of assistant/maid/girl Friday for Simon, as well as a sexual partner for both him and Dawn, and occasionally others that Simon needed to pander to.

After cleaning, Lauren pulled on her clothes and stripped the bed, then went into the room where Simon and Dawn now sat.

Dawn stood and grabbed her thin jacket, which she didn’t really need as it was still warm out, even this late. “C’mon, Lauren, I’ll take you home.”

Home, Lauren thought, such an odd concept. Where was her home, really?

****

Carol Douglas washed her face and then paused as she was drying it to look at her reflection. She smiled not knowing why, and then allowed memories to flow. She was a successful business woman; she had parlayed her family’s financial support into a personal fortune north of fifty million, yet her personal life had been decidedly disappointing. Until now.

One mediocre marriage that had ended with her husband’s death; a second marriage even less compelling than the first, ending now in divorce. One child who had run off and basically disappeared. And now, Carol had fallen into this bizarre, that was the only word, relationship that would curl the toes of any board member on any of her companies; yet the fact was, it was an incredibly satisfying relationship to her; both sexually and emotionally.

And now Lauren had returned, the prodigal daughter?

What did any of this mean? Where would any of this lead? “What do you want?” she asked the reflection in her mirror. It didn’t answer, but she knew, for one thing, that she was prepared to give herself to her …mistress. This was a dangerous and scary proposition, yet one that somehow gave her life some, meaning. Could she give all she had away? For pleasure?

She would talk at length with Kendra Chand, as her lawyer, then as her mistress. She needed to settle some issues.

****

Dawn pulled the car up outside the imposing Douglas home. “This is some place, Lore,” she murmured.

Lauren shrugged; it didn’t mean much to her. Dawn turned Lauren’s face to hers and kissed her, Lauren opening her mouth and accepting the woman’s tongue, knowing what was expected. She actually sort of liked being fucked by Cutter and was ok with the sex with Dawn, but tonight she was tired.

“Put your tongue out,” Dawn crooned.

“Dawn, I’m kinda’ tired, right?”

Haynes looked at her. “Yeah, sure, but tomorrow I have you first,” she said.

Lauren shrugged again. “Whatever; it’s not like it’s anything you haven’t had before,” Lauren noted.

Haynes chuckled, “True ‘dat, girl. But I still like the taste.” She regarded the young woman for a moment. “Now, you best get busy doin’ what the man wants, right?” Lauren nodded silently, slid out and closed the door; then looked in, waved briefly and headed up the walk toward the impressive front doors. She’d start digging into her mother’s affairs tomorrow.

****

Kendra looked across at Carol and smiled. They were at her firm’s office’s, sitting in a small meeting room. They wanted privacy, or at least, Carol wanted privacy; Kendra wasn’t sure what this was about, but when she got the call that morning she managed to squeeze her ‘client’ in.

“This is funny, eh, now that our, oh, relationship has changed…so much,” Carol smiled. “But I am here today as your client, so thank you for making time.”

“Absolutely, Mrs. Douglas.” Kendra smiled as well, “I can wear different, hats, as it were. What do you need?”

Carol paused. “Well, I need to talk asset management. I want to free myself of some of my companies and create some trust funds.”

Kendra considered for a moment, “Would this, may I ask, have anything to do with your, daughter?” She looked up and noted that Douglas did not seem bothered by her question.

“You are astute as always, Ms. Chand. Yes, it does. But it also has to do with someone you, know well.”

Kendra looked closely at the woman. “Yes? Um, her, uh, name, if again I may be so bold.”

Douglas looked down and smiled. “I know her as Mistress Kendra, but that would be her, professional name.” Both women smiled.

****

Lia’s late shift allowed her to be home when the special ‘furniture’ arrived. She unpacked it and managed to put together the two wooden ‘ponies’; one a large wedge of wood that someone, usually female, sat on, with the wedge being forced between her labia by the pulling down of her legs; or by attaching weights to the outer lips. It was uncomfortable rather than painful; also humiliating and, remarkably, arousing.

The other wooden pony was actually a bar rather than a wedge, with the same idea, but it had a beam support system that saw one segment extend out from the post at the back of the device to sit above the bar, so that a victim’s hands could be tied up to it. It also featured two short, three or four inch stubs, welded onto the bar that a victim could be forced onto, by ramming the posts into the orifice of choice.

The other furniture pieces, a table and a large wooden cross, would need two people to erect. Lia smiled looking at the room. Two leather couches had also been delivered and looked like comfortable spots to witness the show. Damn. This was hot; she couldn’t wait to get Lillian down here.

****

Simon Cutter’s only negative habit, at least to his mind, was drinking whiskey. He had discovered Jack Daniels in his twenties and it was all he ever drank. Now approaching forty, he had become fixated on his health, working out daily, watching his diet; everything but the whiskey.

He was lean and sinewy, and being a smallish man, driven to succeed. He had never taken losing lightly, which was one reason that he was relatively wealthy and successful for his age; but of course, there is always more.

A year ago, he had become interested in an emerging video-streaming company, HeyThere!, based in Montreal, Canada. But he had become really interested when he realized that the girl he had rescued earlier was the daughter of the company’s major shareholder, Carol Douglas.

It was why he had since moved to Ottawa from Cleveland and leased this condo. It was why Lauren Douglas was now reuniting with her mother. Cutter saw an opportunity, and with his obsessive nature, that had now become a dedicated goal; he wanted this company to be part of his enterprise, and he believed Douglas likely didn’t realize what she had; Lauren would help him find out what she knew and what it would take to relieve her of this asset.

So it was that Cutter was now sitting, after finishing a forty-minute workout, and sipping his Jack Daniels as Dawn Haynes entered the condo and came up the winding staircase to where the man sat, Lauren Douglas close behind her.

Once in the bright open living space, floor to ceiling windows along one entire wall giving the room a wonderful view, Dawn got busy. She undressed Lauren, which she always enjoyed doing, and then took out her hash pipe, firing up the Moroccan hash she preferred, taking a deep hit on the pipe before passing it to Lauren. Cutter simply watched; he did no drugs of any sort (besides caffeine), including nicotine.

As Lauren took her drag, Dawn undressed. The next twenty minutes saw the two women, one white but tanned, the other caramel-colored, love-making and smoking, as Cutter watched from his chair, enjoying the performance and his whiskey.

Both women were slim with decent breasts that stood out more because of their builds. Dawn was not tall, only a couple of inches taller than the five-three Lauren, and both were noisy love-makers, something that Cutter always found amusing. He liked action and he liked the slap of flesh on flesh; he loved the grunts and the groans.

Dawn had now recovered from her climax and poked her head up, asking, “How do you want her today?”

“On her knees. Here.” Cutter announced, touching the carpet near him with his foot.

Dawn brought Lauren over and placed her, head on the carpet, hips in the air, spreading her legs, before Cutter. She looked up at her boss, “Pussy or ass?”

“Pussy”, Cutter declared as he discarded his robe and knelt naked behind Lauren, his cock hard and ready. Dawn hesitated; Cutter rarely had sex with her but she was always prepared. This time he simply ignored her and grasped Lauren’s hair with his left hand before driving his erection into her waiting opening, lifting her body up and causing her to cry out.

Cutter’s love-making style could be called simply the ‘jack-hammer’. With one hand in her hair and one hand gripping a hip, Cutter pounded away rhythmically and steadily, Lauren’s petite body bouncing, breasts swinging, in response.

Watching the women make out never failed to arouse him and it wasn’t long before Cutter emptied his seed into Lauren’s cavity and slouched over her, breathing heavily through his nose while absent-mindedly kneading a breast with one hand; his other hand remaining in the slim woman’s hair.

As always, Lauren waited motionless until Cutter was completely done.

****

Kendra, Jessica and Lia were in their special room, (Kendra’s Kave; Lia’s Lair, Jess’s House of Worship; had all been offered up and guffawed over) resting after a good three hours of effort; but it had been worthwhile.

The ‘table’ turned out to actually be a steel cage with a padded top, allowing a mistress to keep one slave imprisoned below and another tied up on top. (“For the multi-tasking Dom,” Jessica had smirked. “That’s me, kid,” Kendra had replied.) They had laughed loudly over that.

The large (padded) wooden x-cross was as its name would suggest; victims were bound to its seven-foot frame, upright and spread-eagle, ready for whipping or… whatever.

As well as the furniture, the women had put up several mirrors and decorated with several ‘naughty’ paintings, as well as adding lighting. Two large, red-metal dog crates were standing together in one corner with shiny metal dog dishes, labelled ‘Bitch’ and ‘Slave’, awaiting the first occupants.

“I can’t wait to get down to it, oh, my, God,” Kendra exclaimed, relaxing on one couch.

“Let’s talk over our plans, kids.” Jessica offered.

“Like what?” Lia replied.

“Wellll,” Jessica began, “like what we can or can’t do to our, um, guests.”

“What are your thoughts, Jess?” Kendra asked.

“Um, well, with Meg, Cindy-Lou as I’m calling her, she is not a regular paddle-my-butt slave; I want to train her to be a, um, pet. Or, I dunno’, some sort of pet-slave combo. Shit, this is all new to me, this whole organizational thing, like. I’ve been good with bringing girls home and having them serve me, spanking them and whatever, but this is, like different. Right?”

Both her housemates nodded. This was different, to everyone. As they sat and talked, Kendra was running her last discussion with Carol through her mind, wondering how much she should, could, share with her pals. For now she decided to share nothing; that time would come.

In the end, they decided that for Canada day, which was tomorrow and a national holiday, they would have Carol-Slave, Cindy-Lou and Allie over to try out the new equipment, but that each ‘Mistress’ (they assigned Allie to Lia for now) could decide how the slave would be used and, of course, abused.

When the three trooped off to their beds, it certainly wasn’t with visions of sugar plums, whatever they are, dancing in their heads.

****

Dawn handed Cutter another whiskey, then ran her hand up his right leg, only to be stopped by Cutter placing the glass like a barrier, “It’s ok, Dawn. I’m good,” he said evenly. “Just sit and enjoy your Moscato.”

“No problems, Boss. I’ll just relax.” The girl replied, sitting in a chair diagonal from the man. They drank and sat in silence for a moment. “What’s our play with Lore? Anything I should know?” She asked, keeping her voice calm; odd things could set Simon Cutter off.

Cutter moved slightly on the couch. Haynes had been loyal to him for almost three years, more than loyal really, but he wasn’t someone who liked to share anything, especially information. But he did always seem to need help from this girl; he had in fact come to depend on her and she was truly part of his organization; the only one he really trusted at all, even more than his lawyer.

He sighed. “She needs to find out what’s on with her mother. What her plans are. What her goals are.”

“Why do you care about this, ummm, one company so much?” Haynes persisted, gently.

Cutter regarded the woman. He knew she was nosey; that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but there was always that saying about the cat and curiosity. Sometimes it was dangerous. He smiled; it softened his Eastern-European features and made him look younger.

“I feel it’s a good fit. I saw it, almost from the beginning as a start-up and it appealed to me. Then we find Lauren and her mother turns out to be a major shareholder. I’m not superstitious, but sometimes there is, em, karma, I guess is the best word. I’m goin’ with my gut on this one and I intend to push hard. But I want to know what I’m dealing with here. That’s the girl’s part.”

Haynes didn’t ask, but she did wonder what Cutter’s plans for the girl were after he had achieved his…goal. He was a very practical businessman, and businessmen, and women, knew how to divorce themselves from anything once it had served its purpose. Haynes knew that about herself, which was why she had learned to be very useful.

****

In her room in her mother’s home, Lauren was watching the movie V for Vendetta, thinking as the action unfolded how easier it was oftentimes to act when one was wearing a mask. She smiled, thinking of how she acted with that self-centered prick Simon Cutter. Although she did enjoy fucking with him, she often thought about stabbing him with a knife. Or maybe cutting off his cock, then smiling at him. “How was that, Simon?” she would ask. “Boss.”

She laughed softly.

But then it was time to put on another mask, as the gentle knock on her door told her that her mother had come to say ‘Good night’, or to possibly chat.

She didn’t really want to chat with her mother, but she knew she had to give Cutter something soon.

He could be a very unpleasant man when he was annoyed.

(End of Chapter 5)    

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A Mask of Love by LongDarkRoad Chapter 4 No Sooner Sighed But Asked The Reason Why

A Mask of Love

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 04 No Sooner Sighed But Asked The Reason   

Sunday morning saw an interesting scene at Kendra’s house, as the three women were all sitting in silence and looking at photos on their cell phones. Kendra looked up and realized the coincidence and laughed, ”Ok, everybody stop.” Lia and Jessica both glanced up, quizzical looks on their faces.

“What are you lookin’ at, Jess?”

Jessica grinned broadly and flashed her phone, showing a naked Meg on her knees. Kendra chortled, “and you Lia?” Looking a little sheepish, Lia showed the shot of her partner Holly ‘examining’ Natalie’s anal ‘cavity’. Both Kendra and Jessica snorted, Kendra remarking, “Our tax dollars at work.”

“Ok, sweet KC, your turn.”

When Kendra showed the picture of Carol Douglas, naked except for her garter belt and nylons, sitting on a chair with her legs spread and holding her pussy open with two hands, Jessica reacted, “Who the Hell is that?”

Kendra filled the other two in on the previous night’s surprising, well, unbelievable really, developments.

Jessica and Lia then followed with stories of Meg’s adventure and the situation with the runaway Natalie. Kendra sat with an odd look on her face, “Holy shit, guys, as they say, we batted, like, a thousand.” The other two simply nodded their heads.

****

At the same time, in her luxurious Rockcliffe Park home, Carol Douglas sat out by her pool; it was going to be a warm one today, late June being more like mid-summer. But then again, for Carol, it had been quite the hot one the night before. She smiled in remembrance; she had experienced two orgasms, first time in years she’d had two in one night. As Marissa came out bringing her coffee, Douglas picked up the fat envelope from the table and gave it to the woman.

“See that Harris gets this, please Marissa,” the woman said, picking up her coffee and sipping. It was delicious. Douglas smiled; she hadn’t felt this good in a long while. She wanted to call Kendra, but wasn’t sure of the protocol with her new…mistress. The sound of that word in her mind made her smile again.

Life was sweet.

****

Meg stepped out of the shower and, wrapping a large towel around herself, crossed into her living room and slumped down onto the couch.

Her genitals were a little tender this morning, she had noticed as she washed. While last night’s activities still tended to be a blur, with many details still remaining hazy, she was aware of one thing; she’d had a lot of sex. An astounding amount, really, compared to her sex life thus far. And she had experienced multiple orgasms. The thoughts of those came flooding back now, filling her with delight, and amazement.

What did this mean, she asked herself? She knew, or at least admitted in a vague way to herself, that she had fantasized certain sexual scenarios that, at first, years ago, had concerned her. Why did the thought of being spanked arouse her? Why did she sometimes fantasize about being someone’s (usually, oddly enough, a woman) sexual, mmm, entertainment? Why?

She pondered, looking back. One of her earliest, true sexual fantasies remained clearly in her mind, as she had re-enacted the imaginary scene countless times over the years. It was her, being in her school gym change room and being ordered to strip by the teacher (for some unexplained reason) as her classmates watched her, before being forced to go around the group, as each of them abused her in a different way.

Her first, brief orgasm from self-pleasure had come via this fantasy, and it still never failed to arouse her.

She shook her head slowly. A number of things from the previous night’s action were in sync with these sexual-fantasy, daydreams. What did all this mean?

****

A little later, Jessica was rinsing dishes at the sink when Kendra came quietly up to her. “Hey, kid.” She greeted her housemate, who tossed a dish towel at her.

“I didn’t feel like getting the dishwasher going for just a couple of things; so, here, you can dry.”

Kendra chuckled and picked up a cup, “Right, hey, I wanted to talk to you, without Lia.”

Jessica glanced over her shoulder, “Why? What’s up?”

Kendra pondered for a moment. “Does it concern you that Lia does stuff to these, young women, in her um, care, I guess it would be.”

Jessica now pondered for a moment herself. “Ummm, not really; ok, maybe just a little, ‘cuz it could backfire, right? But I know Lia’s cautious and picks her spots. And her partner, who’s way more experienced, is not only in on this, but is the one who got things going, eh. Lia just followed her lead, you know.”

Jessica looked at Kendra for a moment, studying her; she didn’t feel she needed to defend Lia, the woman could look after herself, but she did feel this concern was leading…somewhere. “What’s your take, lawyer-girl?” She smiled.

Kendra put two cups in the cupboard and paused. “I just think it’s a little reckless, I guess, you know, like bringing that cute seventeen-year-old into the house. That’s like, dynamite; and yeah, it could backfire, and we all catch the blast.” Jessica nodded her head.

Kendra continued, “So, you about ready to bring your girl home to the Evil Mistress’s Den of, um, Stuff? I’m putting my torture device together today,” Kendra smirked.

Jessica laughed, “Pretty close, babe, pretty close. I’m going to call her to see how she’s doing after last night. We gave her a, like, heavy work out and she came through it; I need to see now if she has any, you know, regrets. What about your gal-pal, Mommy Big Bucks?”

It was Kendra’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, Wow. Talk about out of the blue. Sheesh. I’m phoning her too. We’ll compare notes. I’d love to try out ‘The Trap’ on her.”

“Check, sister.” Jessica laughed again and gave a thumbs-up. ”You need to get yourself a black, spandex outfit.”

“Who says I don’t already have one,” Kendra said, as she wiggled her hips on her way out of the room. She needed to check on her, girl.

****

The afternoon sun was streaming in, giving the room a nice, warm feeling. They were in the ‘den’ of the Douglas home; a room, despite its name, with very feminine overtones, from the salmon colored walls, to the white leather couches. At this moment however, Douglas and Kendra were not on the couches.

Carol Douglas was on the floor and had the entire thin, three inch heel of Kendra’s black shoe in her mouth. She was sucking it slowly and deliberately. Douglas was on her knees and naked again, except for the garter belt and dark nylons; the belt was red this time, with Kendra happy to hear Douglas owned several garters in different colors. She liked the way the thing looked on the woman.

“That’s very nice, my slave.” Kendra crooned, gently stroking the wavy, light brown hair. “You are a good little bitch.” Kendra smiled as she saw Douglas’s body jerk in response to the verbal abuse. “Sit up and show your mistress how you play with your tits,” Kendra continued. Douglas had a nice, firm body, just showing the first hints of a middle age spread; but her breasts were round and firm, and not overly large.

Douglas sat up and begin stoking and pulling her breasts, especially the light pink nipples that sat on areolas that were almost colorless. The nipples themselves were remarkably long, and with her teasing, they now stood at attention. “Have you ever been …spanked?” Kendra asked.

Douglas sighed audibly. “Yes, Mistress, but really only in, oh, fun.”

“By a man or woman?”

“A, mmmm, woman.”

“Did you like it?”

“Mmmm, um, yes, I, um, loved it.”

“Why do you say that?” Kendra was interested.

“It, oh, it turned me on, in-incredibly. We weren’t able to continue because someone came over, and I kept hoping we would, oh, continue. I, um, I had another woman spank me with her hand one night, in a hotel, when I was at a conference, but it wasn’t the same….”

“Hmmmm,” Kendra whispered, taking off her shoe and putting her toes into Douglas’s mouth, “I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours; you’re going to be an obedient little bitch for your mistress. I have a special treat waiting for you, back at my house, so we need to go.”

“Ummmmm,” Douglas moaned, her nipples looking like little rockets that might soon explode.

****

Meg’s cell chimed and she jumped; looking down she saw it was Jessica and her heart accelerated.

“H-Hello.” She said, her throat constricting.

Jessica waited a moment, before saying, “Hello, who?”

“Um, sorry, hello, M-Mistress.”

Jessica had to control a chuckle; this was sweet indeed. “How is my little, pet, this afternoon?” she asked in a soft voice.

“Ummm, I’m good, Mistress. I’m, uh, a little sore, but, um, very good.”

“So, you liked, last night?”

Meg paused, emotion rising. “Yes, um, yes I did, Mistress. Um, yeah.” Meg struggled to keep her breathing calm.

Jessica paused, suppressing a chuckle again. “Good. Ok, put on a dress, with nothing underneath and be outside your place in twenty minutes,” Jessica purred.

Meg’s heart leapt into her mouth. “Uhhmm, y-yes, um, Mistress.” Meg managed to get out before the call ended.

****

Late afternoon and Natalie came out of the alley, wiping her mouth, then got into the black Range Rover; KK, Stafford’s main girl, was in the driver’s seat; the man himself was in the back. Natalie passed sixty dollars to KK and sat, staring. KK turned and gave the money to Loess, then smiled. It was small change, but it was all good.

****

Meg stood, waiting outside her apartment, shivering despite the warm day. A gentle breeze would occasionally lift her cotton dress, reminding her of her nakedness beneath. Meg looked up as a car slid in by the curb, Jessica at the wheel.

Meg climbed in the back seat, following Jessica’s head nod, and settled herself. “Good afternoon, Mistress.” She said in what she felt was her most obedient, if somewhat breathless, voice; her heart beating with anticipation.

Jessica smiled into the rear view mirror, “Good day, my pet. Lift your dress and show your mistress how well you follow instructions.” Meg complied, a small smile on her face; “Very good. Open your legs wider and keep your dress up like that.” Meg nodded. “What was that, Pet?” Jessica persisted.

“Yes, Mistress.” Meg murmured, and remained in this position for the remainder of the almost twenty minute drive.

Upon arriving at the house, Meg was instructed to lower her dress and follow her mistress. They entered through the back gate, and once in the yard, Jessica had Meg remove her dress and go down on all fours.

Kendra had made a trip to a local sex shop and bought some items, including knee pads for slaves. Meg attached two now, and then fastened the dog collar that Jessica handed her, around her neck; she then attached the leash, handing the loop end back to her mistress. Jessica led her pet, walking on all fours, into the house.

****

Lia and Lillian were sitting in the back of Lia’s car. The girl’s jeans were down to her knees, but Lia was not doing anything besides looking and talking. “I see they’ve shaved you.” Lia remarked, looking at the dark patch of very short hair showing through the thin fabric.

Lillian nodded, saying nothing, staring down. Lia lifted the girl’s head up, looking into the dark, almost black, eyes, feeling that pull of attraction once again. “Have they, done anything else to you?” she asked quietly. Lillian shook her head. “Tell me what happens.”

In a halting, almost staccato manner, Lillian related her average day, which varied little. Wake; eat; shower with two or three other girls; spend a few minutes shaving each other, Loess demanding total bareness, even arms, apart from the small patch of pubic hair; go into the drug packaging room wearing only a tiny thong; weigh and pack blow and weed into bags; have a break with some weed; weigh and pack for another hour; go outside for 30 minutes of sun; have a meager lunch, return and do some paper work or maybe count money; then maybe a little more packing or watching television or playing video games.

At night, the two twenty-something girls would sometimes be taken to work in a strip club, or the  girls would have sex with each other as Stafford and K.K. watched, sometimes joining in.

“You don’t take part, do you?” Lia asked with concern. Lillian said that there was another seventeen-year-old and she would ‘make-out’ with her, but neither K.K. or Loess had touched her, apart from a whipping the first day; just because.

“Good,” Lia murmured. “Soon you’ll be out of here.” Lillian nodded her head, her face a mask of concealment.

****

Kendra looked down at the wooden and steel device, ‘The Trap’, and smiled. It was a sort of rack with the section that restrained a body able to be moved into several positions, so that the body was facing up or down, legs spread or not; whatever a creative master or mistress desired for their slave.

Carol Douglas was in the device now, with the platform section tilted so that Douglas’s hips and ass were slanted dramatically upwards and her legs spread obscenely wide.

Kendra had placed a ball-gag labelled ‘Bitch’ in Douglas’s mouth, and had just finished forcing a thick, short dildo into the woman’s lubricated vagina. She now held up a tube of gel, smiling, before spreading a generous glob on the waiting anus, placed so invitingly before her. Once the pink, puckered opening was slick, Kendra slowly introduced one of her new anal toys; a black, rubber bulb, the kind that started with a tapered point before flaring into a golf-ball sized bulge.

Douglas moaned as Kendra pushed the device up to its hilt, before bending down and licking the skin just outside the puffy labia. Douglas moaned and twisted in her rack, then looked up with eyes suppliant with desire.

Kendra paused; someone had come in upstairs, probably Jessica.

****

Kevin Greenfield closed up the file and sat back in his chair. It was evening, on a weekend, and he was working; but he was also making progress. At the rate he was wrapping things up, in a week or so he could likely move to Ottawa, and start trying to rebuild a life with his daughter.

When he thought of Meg, he remembered her sitting on the stool on the bar stage, her eyes closed, singing and playing, her beautiful auburn hair catching the lights from above; her face like that of an angel.

He wondered what she might be up to right now; accepting the warm applause of an appreciative audience, perhaps?

****

“Very good,” Jessica crooned, enjoying the show as Meg performed for her. She had just forced a third finger into her pussy from the front, to join the two fingers that were pumping her anus from behind. “Show your mistress what a good little whore-slut you are. Show her that you’re a bitch in heat, wanting her cunt jammed with anything.” Meg groaned in response to the abuse and the pleasure and pumped harder. As Jessica watched, she could sense the arousal building in her ‘pet’; she smiled. “Ok, stop.”

With a louder groan, Meg halted, mouth open; then she slowly withdrew her wet fingers from her openings. “Ok, pet, lick those fingers off like a good little she-dog; and look at me as you do it.” Meg looked up, her appearance like that of someone drugged. “That’s good. Now crawl over to me. I have something for you.” Meg crawled and came to rest on her knees at Jessica’s feet, looking up with what could only be described as devotion. She remained still as Jessica removed the brown leather collar and replaced it with a pink one. This one had a name on it: Cindy-Lou.

“My name for my pet is Cindy-Lou. That is what I will call you when we are together. You can be Meg out there, but in here, as my pet, you are Cindy-Lou. Ok?” Meg smiled, an odd feeling flowing through her.

She bent and kissed each of Jessica’s bare feet, one after the other. “Thank you, Mistress,” she murmured, still looking down.

“You’re very welcome my pet, my Cindy-Lou. Now we need to learn…some tricks.”

Meg/Cindy-Lou looked up with her grey/green eyes and smiled, just as Kendra came into the room.

****

Lauren Douglas picked up her cell for the third time that hour. Damn it, she thought, just make the call. She pondered, how hard would it be? It had been a little over two years since the argument with her mother and her decision to leave. Since then, a lot had happened. A lot.

But now she was coming home, whatever that meant, and she needed to be the one to reach out; she had been the one to shut things down. Simon’s voice came to her mind clearly; she needed to act.

Just as she was reaching again for the phone, it chimed, and like he was reading her mind, which he seemed to be able to do, it was him. Simon.

They spoke briefly and when the call ended Lauren slowly punched in the numbers for her mother, and listened to the phone ringing.

****

“Well, well,” Kendra commented, “I see your, um, pet, is all dressed up,” she smirked, regarding the naked girl wearing only a pink dog collar.

Jessica laughed. “What’s happening with your, um, what are you calling her?”

Kendra laughed again. “Slave will work, for now. She’s, um, marinating.” Kendra chortled. “Have you eaten, it’s getting late. I’m taking my girl home soon, what about you?”

“Well, let’s see, I have forgotten the time, funny how a pet will distract you.” They both laughed. “Hmmmm, I’ll just finish up here, then take Cindy-Lou…” Kendra looked at Jessica. “That’s her pet name.” Kendra nodded at that. “I’ll take her home and maybe pick up something on my way back.”

“Sure. I think that Thai place is open Sundays.”

“Got that.”

****

Mary listened to the greeting and ended the call. There was no point in leaving another message, she had already left two that Meg had not responded to. Maybe the girl was busy; maybe she had picked up some solo gigs. It was odd though that she had not been able to reach her for a couple of days.

****

Meg stood, staring into the mirror, touching the place where the collar had been on her throat. She looked at her face; it was hers, Meg Greenfield was still there, no doubt, but who was she, now? Had this person always been there, denied? This Meg had just been naked, on her knees, performing for another woman; performing for her mistress. Why did that word thrill her, when she repeated it in her mind?

“My mistress,” she said out loud. Meg closed her eyes, remembering the orgasm her…mistress, had given her, as she lay on the carpet of the living room; begging. She remembered then the flood of the release, the aching pleasure, the wondrous relief and the sense of belonging.

Did she love this woman, Jessica? Meg touched her face; to find truth in physical contact. She didn’t know if this was love, but she knew how much she wanted it.

****

Carol and Kendra sat in Kendra’s car, parked in front of the woman’s splendid home. Carol looked over, smiling, “So, what now…Mistress?”

Kendra smiled in response, gently touching the older woman’s face. “That, really depends on you. We’ve both, well, had other, um, encounters.” Carol chuckled and nodded her head, looking down, Kendra continued. “But, this seems, mmmm, different, at least to me. But it still comes down to what you are, um, prepared to do.”

Carol sat, thinking. “Well, on one hand, I want to, simply, be with you. I feel such desire for you, such, oh, completeness when I’m with you. Our time together has certainly proven to me that you are what I’ve been searching for, gee, years, really. It’s been years. It scares the beejeezus out of me to imagine losing you.” Kendra smiled at this; it was certainly as much as she hoped for, and more than what she expected.

“But, I’m still a business woman, with a public profile. I need to be careful, on several levels.”

Kendra reached over and gently stroked the woman’s arm. “I understand that, completely, and we will move as far and as fast as you wish. Now, look at me….” Kendra looked deeply into the blue/grey eyes that were now raised to her. “Do you wish to be my slave?” Carol nodded, and Kendra smiled. “You need to speak, Slave.”

Carol smiled self-consciously. “Yes, Mistress, I do.”

“When we are alone, you will obey me?”

“Yes…Mistress.”

“I will punish you for whatever reason I chose, including my own amusement.”

“Y-yes, Mistress.”

“Very good. We can carry on like this for a while, see how we feel. I want you at my home every night, for a few hours anyway. Have your driver drop you off and I will see you get home.”

Carol nodded, “Thank you, Mistress. I want to serve you as often as possible.” Kendra brought Carol close and kissed her; the two held the kiss for several seconds, before exchanging several more kisses. Finally Kendra gave her slave permission to leave.

As Carol walked to her front door, she looked at her cell phone which had been ignored for several hours. She was surprised; no, astonished, to see she had missed several calls from…her daughter. She stood on her step for a moment, standing before the massive wooden doors with the gleaming brass fixtures. Her mind was a whirl of thoughts.

****

Late Sunday, and it had been quite the weekend. The three housemates sat in a darkened living room, two drinking wine and one, scotch. “So things are, progressing.” Kendra murmured, to nods from Jessica and grunts from Lia.

“I’m not progressing.” Lia noted.

“Soon,” Kendra replied, “Not long now before you can bring that sweet thang into our den of frick-frackin’ um…, whatever,” Kendra laughed, then held up a piece of paper.

“That looks like a cheque, sister.” Jessica noted.

“It is, sweet thang,” Kendra drawled.

“Stop that,” Lia said, “you sound lame.”

“Yeah, whatever. Hey, you’ll feel better when you have a new pussy to munch. Just hang on, mama.”

Lia smiled and Jessica laughed, then asked, “Ok, so what’s with the cheque. I know you want us to ask.” She sat up smiling.

Kendra stood and did a few hip thrusts, saying, “It’s twenty grand from Mommy-Big-Bucks.” She announced, both her housemates now sitting up and looking interested.

“Twenty K, you’re shittin’ me girl,” Lia said. Kendra shook her head, smiling, then passed Lia the cheque.”

“Holy shit, KC, this is the bitch.” She looked over at Jessica. “Twenty big ones, Jesus.”

Jessica spread her hands, “What the fuck…?”

“What can I say, kids. When you got the moves.” Kendra smirked before Jessica leaped over and began tickling her, with Kendra now howling and thrashing. “Alright, alright, stop, maniac. Stop!” Jessica paused in her assault and eyed the other woman, who continued. “She liked our, um, den, ok. She wants me to buy some more stuff. She like wants a table that we can tie her down on.”

Jessica just shook her head slowly in amazement. “Holy shit, KC. You grab a slave who wants to pay you to abuse them. Ok, fine, I bow to your greatness, and call you here-after, KC, the great. You are Mistress Numero Uno, sweets.” Jessica climbed off her friend.

Kendra now stood and bowed in reply, then laughed. “I’ll put this baby in the bank tomorrow and we’ll go shopping, kids. It’ll be just like Christmas.”

“Sure.” Jessica nodded. “If Santa’s into whips and chains. And slave tables.”

They all laughed.

(End of Chapter 04)

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A Mask of Love by LongDarkRoad Chapter 3 With Devotion’s Visage Evil Do We Mask

A Mask of Love

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 03 With Devotion’s Visage Evil Do We Mask

“Hey, you two seem to be deep in thought?” Kendra commented, coming into the living room. Her house mates were sitting on opposite couches and the room was quiet. Lia had a coffee and Jessica was drinking a cup of tea.

Jessica looked up, “Hey there yourself. Can’t a gal just have some quiet every now and then?” She asked, a small smile playing on her plump, pink lips.

“Hmmmm,” Kendra noted; “No T.V., no games, no music, nobody wearing earplugs. Just a couple of zombies sitting here in silence.”

Lia grinned, “Yeah, we were enjoying the peace and quiet….”

Kendra chortled, “Well, good. I’ll be the one to change all that. Jess, did you get into town as you thought, and check out the, um, target?”

Jessica looked at Kendra and raised an eyebrow. “Maybe.”

Kendra laughed, “Ok, out with it. What’s the deal?”

Jessica lowered her feet to the carpet and sat up, then sipped some tea. “Well, you’ve done good, there Scout. Yep.” She said in her best southern drawl.

“What is this about?” Lia asked, and Kendra informed her of the lovely Meg, and their discussion. Kendra ended by asking Lia what had happened to her ‘girl’. “She’s safe, for now.” Lia said, “I’ll tell ya’ more in a week or so. See how the thing works out.” The other two did not press her further.

“So,” Kendra announced, “I am bringing in a couple of guys tomorrow to begin work downstairs. By the weekend we should have our special room. I also ordered a piece of ‘slave furniture’ from a company that produces everything from racks to special sawhorses. It’s called ‘A Trap’, and I get wet just thinking of having a sweet lovely enclosed by it; immobile and open to whatever we wish.”

Jessica looked at her house mate. “Fucking Hell, woman, you’re like the evil mistress. Damn, I don’t know that I can trust you with sweet Meg.”

Kendra laughed, “Oh, there, there, I won’t harm any of our…pets. Toys? Slaves? What will they be?”

“Slaves.” Lia said, quietly.

“Pets,” Jessica stated.

Kendra simply laughed.

****

At work on Wednesday, Meg found it surprising that Jessica’s face kept floating into her mind. Maybe Mary’s phone call had something to do with it; the fact that her friend would not be coming back for at least a few weeks, and so Meg would be on her own.

More than a couple of times, Meg found herself looking up sharply if a young woman came in; but Jessica Robb made no appearance.

At Kendra’s house, work had commenced on the basement room. Kendra now stood in the space that had been created that day; the walls were framed and ready for drywall and half the ceiling tiles were in. Plumbers had also installed a toilet and it looked odd, sitting out in one corner, no walls around it. Kendra smiled; she was happy with the progress.

****

Lia walked down the short alley and in through the back gate. Because she was in uniform she did not want to be seen going in the front door of this sketchy looking place. ‘Staf’, Stafford Loess, used this house to package grass and pills. Lia had loaned him Lillian, for a couple of weeks, anyway; it was the only place she could think of where there was round-the-clock supervision of the girl. Lia had come across Stafford Loess through a run-away at the detention centre who supplied his name as a person of interest to the police. Lia had deleted the name and followed up herself; it never hurt to have someone like Loess owe you.

Lia waited on the back step; she didn’t want to go inside the drug house, and Loess came out to chat. “She’s ok, does her work, keeps her head down. Yeah babe, everything’s cool, right.”

Lia nodded her head. “Good. You keep her safe and we’re even.”

“I feel ya’, sister,” Loess shrugged. “So we’re cool; you did me a solid and I repay my debts. When you comin’ for her?”

Lia studied the dark man cautiously; she was still uneasy about leaving her ‘girl’ with him, and didn’t want him knowing too much. “Two or three weeks, anyway. I’ll let you know. Here,” she handed him some bills, “for food and shit.”

“Cool.” Loess murmured.

“If she’s unharmed, we’re cool…” Lia looked hard at the Asian face; the man was unreadable.

Loess chuckled darkly, “Sounds sorta’ like a threat, there bitch.”

Lia stood and stared again into the inscrutable face, saw a tiny eye movement, and murmured “Take it how you want, Staf. This is personal for me. I may not be a cop but you wouldn’t want me pissed at you.”

Loess chuckled. “Cool.”

****

“Wow, can’t believe you got this done in three days, KC.” Jessica marvelled, looking at the clean drywall and new carpet; the room was done, mostly. “But the toilet and shower look a little, um, unfinished.” She smirked, looking at the two devices as they both sat exposed, no walls around them.

Kendra laughed, “Yeah, I had to string the crew along pretty good so they would leave this, but I want our, um, playthings to be vulnerable. Nothing says vulnerable like being made to do private things in front of others.”

“I get it, girl. Like how we had Allie piss outside as we watched.”

“Exactly, but I don’t think that will work in January in Ottawa.”

Jessica guffawed.

****

“Ok, pass it up.” Lia said, and Kendra passed her one of the large hooks which she had ordered online, (“You can buy Goddamn anything online”, she had marvelled). The hook was large, like a classic slaughter house meat hook, except it was shiny black. Lia had just drilled a hole into a ceiling stud and she now set to work, screwing the hook up into the beam.

“Hey, I like how you’re screwing there, Lia babe,” Jessica smirked and even Lia had to grin.

“I always said she could screw with the best of ‘em,” Kendra added and the group laughed.

****

“So tell me again why you need to go into the office on Saturday?” Jessica asked, as Kendra picked up her briefcase.

“Long-time client. Quite wealthy, probably my top client and she has slowly come around to me being almost exclusive for her, which I love. Today’s the only day she has time to meet, so off I go.”

“Well you have fun there, kiddo. I’ll be lounging on the couch, thinking of you,” Jessica smiled.

“You should give your, um, friend, Meg a visit. She has to work today, too.” Kendra added as she headed out.

Jessica nodded, and then thought about that. She (surprise) had no plans for tonight. Maybe she could set the next step of her big plan into motion. She started by calling Allie.

****

Mrs. Douglas smiled across the table at Kendra. She was an attractive woman, not beautiful, but someone who was attentive to her appearance; petite (five-three) and slim, even now at forty-five. She favored expensive tailored suits and distinctive jewellery; a whiff of Joy Parfum emanated from her as she passed the documents back to Kendra. “There you go, my dear, I believe that is all you’ll need.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Douglas….”

At this moment, Douglas reached a gloved hand across and gently gripped Kendra’s wrist. “Please, I would rather you call me Carol at this point in our, oh, relationship. I truly value how you look after me, Kendra.” She smiled.

“Oh, um, thank you, um, Carol. I appreciate your comments. I really enjoy working for you. This is my thing, you know. Corporate law.” Kendra smiled in turn.

Douglas sat for a moment, clearly thinking, before saying quietly. “Well, I have another, oh, assignment.” She said quietly. “I am aware you are not a divorce lawyer, but you are a lawyer, and I would like you to assist me in getting rid of…Allan.” She said, unemotionally.

Kendra blinked, “I, um, wow, that’s out of the blue.” She laughed self-consciously. “But, of course I will help you. But I have to advise that you would be in better hands with an experienced divorce lawyer.”

Douglas shook her head. “No, I like how you go about your work. This will not be a messy divorce. I’m the one with the money and I have these.” She took out some photos showing a man and a younger woman obviously engaged in something intimate. She was clearly naked and he was partly clad. Kendra regarded these, “I take it, that’s, um, Allan?”

“Correct.” Mrs. Douglas smiled, “And we have a fidelity clause in our ‘pre-nupts.’, so I know he will be happy to accept what I am proposing, as opposed to the nothing I could give him. I just need someone efficient, like you, my dear.” She smiled warmly across at Kendra.

****

Jessica stood outside the bookstore, feeling excited and apprehensive. It was one thing to hit on someone by chance; it was another thing entirely to plan out something, to think about something; to care about something. Then you had something to lose. She went inside and manoeuvered around so she could observe Meg Greenfield for a moment; the girl had a certain desirability, there was no doubt. It was a wonder both Kendra and Jessica saw this something; their tastes were different; or…maybe not.

Jessica sidled around and placed herself to the right of Meg, who was assisting a customer. After a moment, the person nodded and headed off to another shelf and Meg looked up to see Jessica smiling at her. The reaction was immediate and apparent, she smiled and blushed and looked away, all in a blink, and then looked back. Jessica moved beside the girl and then motioned toward some shelves off to one side and a little out of the way. This was where the more ‘adult’ material resided.

Jessica picked up a book called ‘She Loves Me’, with the silhouettes of two naked women on the cover. “Interest you?” She asked Meg, who grinned and looked down. Jessica leaned forward and sucked Meg’s lips into her mouth, holding them for several seconds. She then held Meg’s face in one hand and looked into the grey/green eyes. “I want to go for a drink with you tonight.”

Meg, who suddenly discovered she could not speak, simply nodded, feeling foolish and aroused. “What time are you off work?” she asked.

“Ay, um, eight, eight o’clock.” Meg managed to stammer out.

“Good. See you then.” Jessica kissed Meg lightly on one cheek, and then left, with Meg standing and staring in a sort of stupor.

****

The server moved unobtrusively to the side of the table, topping up the excellent coffee. Carol Douglas smiled across this table. They were at Bekta’s on Elgin Street and the quiet elegance appealed to Kendra. This was where she wanted to be, but being early in her career, dining very often at places like this was just a fantasy. For Douglas on the other hand, this was the only sort of place she had ever dined in.

Her family had been prominent in Montreal and Ottawa since the turn of the nineteenth century, her grandfather successful in mining and with the Canadian Pacific Railroad. Her husband had come with a name of some value, but not much in the way of capital, but her fortune made up for that. She had lived a privileged life, yet her family had also acquired a certain sense of civic responsibility, and Douglas, despite or due to her advantages, was a thoughtful and considerate person.

She could also be determined, as Kendra had seen as they had sat and planned out the woman’s divorce. Now they were simply sitting and chatting, like friends more so than lawyer and client. Carol Douglas had consumed two glasses of wine which also contributed to the relaxed atmosphere.

“Oh, no; no need to call a taxi, my dear.” Douglas had murmured as Kendra remarked on how much wine she also had consumed and how she shouldn’t drive. “I’ll drop you off. I have a car…and driver of course.”

Of course.

****

Meg was seated in the back of the cab between Allie and Jessica. She was wearing her ‘work outfit’ while the other two were wearing dresses. Jessica held up a bag, “We’ve brought your outfit, Meg, so be cool.”

Meg just shook her head, “You guys are crazy.”

An hour later they had all had a couple of drinks and Jessica had managed to slip a single Melantonin II pill into Meg’s last glass of ginger ale. As Meg finished the glass, Jessica announced, “Ok, time to get this party moving. C’mon, Meggo, let’s get you changed.”

“Um, it’s not really nec…” Meg began, but Allie and Jessica took the girl, each with an arm, into the washroom. The bar they were at, considering itself progressive, had four no-distinction washrooms that each locked, giving the inhabitants some privacy. Ignoring Meg’s protests, the two women undressed her until she was standing naked and shivering, wearing only her shoes.

Laughing, Jessica told Allie they needed some shots and held Meg’s arms behind her back as Allie snapped away with Jessica’s cell phone, Meg mildly protesting to no avail the whole time. They took ten pictures, including a couple with Meg’s legs spread.

The clothes she was given to wear included: black shoes, a fairly short black party dress, a matching black micro thong and…no bra. “But guys, I can’t go anywhere like this.” Meg had complained when ‘dressed’, but this was ignored and she was hustled out of the washroom and the restaurant and into a cab; and then they were on their way to Spangles, a popular lesbian and bi-bar.

****

“Ok, cough.” Holly barked, as the girl, panties down to her ankles and bent over, complied, one of Holly’s index fingers embedded deeply in her anus. “Good, whore. Now, Officer ‘Smith’ is going to check you,” she smirked. The new detainee remained in place, a look of anguish on her face, as the imposing Lia Robinson rose and went to stand behind her, then forced a glove-covered finger into the girl’s now lubricated anal passage, before beginning a steady rhythm, pumping the digit into the dark hole, as her hand lightly slapped against the round buttocks.

“Arch your back,” Lia instructed, as she now slapped the brown cheeks hard, her partner taking a cell photo of the action. The girl was another Indigenous runaway with no identification.

An easy target, controlled by an Edmonton street gang from age fourteen before eventually heading east two years ago, the girl had now ended up at the centre and would go into the detention files as a Jane Doe, with the date and nothing else.

Then in a couple of days, she would be back out on the street, left only with the unpleasant memories of what the two women had done to her.

Lia paused for a moment as she looked at the file sheet. Maybe this was an opportunity she should not pass up, as this one was legal?

****

Kendra and Carol Douglas were sitting close together in the back of Douglas’s limo, the tinted glass partition giving them privacy from the uniformed driver. Cautiously but playing a hunch, Kendra took one of Douglas’s gloved hands into her own, the woman responding by squeezing the hand and turning her face to look up at the younger woman. Kendra leaned over slightly and kissed the reddened lips, Douglas moaning audibly and rubbing her hand along Kendra’s arm.

****

Jessica and Meg were on Spangles’s crowded dance floor; the loud, pulsating electro dance music making it impossible to talk, the bass feeling like it was right inside your chest. Meg and Jessica were surrounded by other young women, swaying, writhing, shaking, shimmying, clutching each other as the bodies banged into one another. “It’s Funky Town.” Jessica had yelled above the music. The drugs had kicked in for Meg and she was laughing and dancing, every now and then coming in for a hug or a kiss with Jessica.

Suddenly the dance song ended and a much slower ballad came on, with all the bodies on the floor pairing up. Jessica held Meg close and the two kissed feverishly, forgetting about the dance, as Jessica lifted up the back of Meg’s dress and gripped her now exposed buttocks, with Meg furiously sucking Jessica’s tongue.

With only a slight protestation, Meg’s thong was slipped down over her legs and Jessica placed it into Meg’s mouth. Releasing Meg’s ass for a moment, Jessica led the girl, panties in place, from the floor and over to the side table where Allie was sitting. Jessica then placed Meg on the cushioned sear beside Allie, sliding in beside her. She removed the panties from Meg’s mouth, and then proceeded to kiss her hungrily, before turning Meg’s face to Allie, who then took over.

As Allie was keeping Meg’s mouth occupied, Jessica brought Meg’s hands behind her and tied them at the wrists. Together, the women pulled the top of Meg’s dress down so her small, pert breasts were exposed, the nipples so erect they looked about to explode. As Allie then sucked the nipples agressively, Jessica took more photos. Leaning Meg back against the cushion, they lifted her dress and spread her legs, both marvelling again at the curling, auburn locks growing wild between the girl’s thighs.

“Spread her pussy,” Jessica directed as she took more shots. “Ok, keep her legs open and suck her tongue right out of her face, great. Oh fuck that is hot,” Jessica directed, as Allie assaulted Meg’s mouth and pussy at the same time. “Ok, get her down on her knees and lean her against the cushion. I want some shots of her ass.” Allie positioned the compliant Meg as Jessica directed. “Spread her ass, oh, yeah, like that. Fuck. Finger her Allie.” Several onlookers had gathered to watch the action.

Meg protested this intrusion a little; she had done very little in the way of anal in her life, but Allie was persistent and fingered both Meg’s holes as Jessica took more photos. “Fuck.” Jessica commented. “Hot damn.”

Several of the onlookers applauded.

****

“How long you been on the street?” Lia asked the girl, who still looked thirteen or fourteen but was actually several years older; almost twenty, amazingly. The street life had not aged her, yet.

“Six years, I guess,” the girl answered.

“You were the property of a gang?” Lia asked again. The girl silently nodded her head. “Whadja’ do for them?” Lia was pretty sure she knew the answer; she wanted to hear it from the girl.

In a monotone the girl replied, “I used’a d’liver crack for them for a coupla’ years, and then they got me doing hand-jobs and bj’s….”

“With condoms?” Lia asked. The girl shook her head ‘no’. “Fuck,” Lia added. “Go on.”

“After that, they’d have me do, like, ‘full serv’ on dudes, eh, right there behind the strip club on Whyte, eh.”

“In the alley?” Lia asked with interest.

“In the alley.” The girl replied without emotion. “It was, yuh’know, summer, eh, so they had like a mattress out there, eh? And I’d do like three or four dicks a night, right. Did that shit for like three weeks and then one day I just fucked off. Hitchhiked east, eh, made it to T’ranna, got picked up by some dude, eh, who brought me here and fuckin’ sold me to some other cunt, eh?”

The girl was still wearing only her panties, sitting on the cot in the officers’ back room. “When’s the last time you got tested, um, ok, what’s your real name? Don’t fuck around.”

“Natalie.” The girl said quietly, as if saying her name had some secret meaning.

“When’s the last time you were tested, Natalie, for STDs?”

The girl sat for a moment. “The dude in T’ranna had me

done by some doc he knew, on the side, eh?”

“And you were clean?” Lia asked in amazement. The girl nodded her head.

“Hot damn.” Lia murmured, shaking her head.

****

In the end, Mrs. Douglas and Kendra travelled to a condo the woman owned; one which her company used for any business people who might come into town. It was, as Kendra noted, much nicer than her own house. Mrs. Douglas had sent her driver away and now the two were seated on a soft, white leather couch, kissing gently but in earnest, Kendra unsure where this would lead.

When they separated, Douglas looked down and was quiet.

“What is it, Mrs. um, Carol?” she asked quietly.

Douglas bit her lip. “I, oh, I really want to be open with you, Kendra. I feel very close to you, very attracted to you. I feel I can trust you….”

“You can…Carol.” Kendra said, gently stroking the woman’s arm; heart beating with anticipation.

“Ummmmm.” Douglas murmured. “This is, a little scary.” She chuckled. “Ah, I have only opened up to, oh, shall we say, professionals.” She was speaking in a low, quiet voice.

Kendra was extremely interested, but still cautious about jumping to any conclusions and making a mess of things. “By, professionals, I’m guessing we’re not talking, say, psychologists?” Douglas smiled a self-conscious smile and shook her head of light brown hair. “Are we, um, talking people that can help someone with…special, like needs?”

Douglas blushed and covered her mouth with one gloved hand, then nodded yes. Kendra sat in thought for a moment, considering.

“Get on your knees.” She said, her voice now authoritative. Douglas looked up briefly, her eyes showing excitement, desire and a hint of fear, then she went down to her knees on the plush carpet.

Kendra stood and walked behind the kneeling woman,  gently pushing her down to all fours. From behind Douglas, Kendra flipped up the woman’s tailored skirt, revealing a black, lace garter belt attached to dark nylons; and, surprising, no panties. The woman’s sex, thick with brown hair curling up between her buttocks, was completely open to Kendra, beads of moisture visible on the thick pussy lips.

“Get your head down on the floor, Slut.” Kendra directed and with an audible moan, Douglas bent forward and placed her head on the carpet, her ass rising and sitting invitingly. Kendra leaned close to the woman’s ear, “When you are given an order, you reply, yes, Miss Kendra.”

Douglas moaned again and croaked out, “Yes, M-miss Kendra,” with Kendra then responding by slapping the exposed flesh with a resounding ‘thwack!’

Kendra then moved a short distance and sat on the chair directly in front of the prone figure, then placed her feet and her black shoes by the woman’s face, saying quietly, “My shoes need cleaning, Bitch.”

Douglas groaned, “Yes, Mistress,” before laying her pink tongue along the side of Kendra’s shoe; and so she began.

****

Loess met Lia near an abandoned warehouse on a deserted street. Sitting on the curb, blindfolded, was Natalie. Loess looked the girl over and smiled. “Looks like now I owe you again, girl,” he said, flashing white teeth.

“Just keep Lillian safe,” Lia said, unsmiling, before climbing back into her car and heading off.

**** 

Jessica and Meg were back now in Meg’s tiny apartment. It had been quite the night. Meg’s pussy had not ever seen that much activity in a month, well, several months; with seven or eight different women eating or fingering her ass and vagina before Jessica figured the girl had had enough.

Right now, Meg was kneeling naked on the floor of her living room, hands clasped behind her neck; her mind a confused jumble of drugs, emotion and desire.

Jessica handed Meg a glass of water and two Tylenol. “Take these,” she commanded, turning to leave.

Meg blurted out, “Please, will I see you soon?” She looked up with pleading eyes, swaying slightly.

“What did you forget, my pet?” Jessica said quietly, then turned back to look down at the figure.

Meg in turn looked down, saying quietly. “I’m sorry. Will I see you soon, M-mistress Jessica?”

“That’s better…my pet. Yes, I will see you; soon.”

There was silence, and then the door closed. Meg continued to kneel, hands still in place, a flood of images and emotions crashing through her mind like a tsunami.

(End of Chapter 03)

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A Mask of Love by LongDarkRoad Chapter 2 The Silence Often Of Pure Innocence Persuades

A Mask of Love

by LongDarkRoad

Chapter 02

The Silence Often of Pure Innocence Persuades

Sunday night and Kendra, Lia and Jessica sat in their living room with a drink (one only, what with work tomorrow) and chatted. Saturday night had been uneventful, which was okay with everyone; considering their late and eventful Friday night and early Saturday morning.

“So what’s your sked, there, Lia babe?” Kendra asked.

“This week eleven to nine, and I work this Saturday.”

“Bummer,” Jessica noted.

“Tell me about it,” Lia concurred, “but it’s only one weekend a month, and everyone has to do it.”

“What about you, kid?” Kendra looked at Jessica, who worked as a data analysist for a large, local communications company.

“I have to be in the office Monday and Tuesday, Wednesday is a flex day, can work from home or go in late, and Thursday is a ten o’clock start but later close, then Friday morning I have a job which I can do from here, but I need to be in the office in the afternoon.”

“How do you keep track of all that stuff?” Kendra asked with a puzzled look, but Jessica just laughed, and Kendra smiled. Her own schedule was busy but not so predictable. As a corporate lawyer, she needed to meet client’s needs and time schedules.

Everyone had a sip of their drinks and sat quietly. Lia spoke up, “Thought any more of what you have in mind, Jess, you know, for fun and games?” She winked.

“What’s this?” Kendra asked, having not been a party to the Friday discussions and no one had talked of anything in particular until now.

“Jess and I were just talking about finding certain, um, kinds of women, sorta’ like that girl on Friday….”

“Allie…” Jessica interjected.

“Yeah, her. We picked her up and used her and we all had some fun. So….”

“So?” Kendra asked, interested.

“So, wouldn’t it be fun to have some girls right here we could use. House girls.” Lia chortled and everyone smirked.

“Well,” Kendra offered, “that’s funny, because I was thinking about doing something down in the basement; you know, put in a room where we could have fun with these girls we bring home. Having that girl, um, Allie, here was good, but that bedroom isn’t really set up for um, you know, things.”

“What kind of things?” Jessica asked, a twinkle in her eye.

Kendra smirked, “Oh, yeah, like you have no ideas.” Everyone laughed at this. “What would you like, Lia? What kind of girl works for you?”

Lia regarded her glass for a moment. “Well, I like ‘em young, and pretty, and feminine.” She paused. “And I like them unconfident and manageable. The girls I’ve used at the centre, and, hmmmm, there have only been three, I was thinking about this today. Three girls in four years; but they all had the same, um, thing…”

“Characteristic?” Jessica offered quietly.

“Yeah, that’s it. A certain characteristic. They were all easily broken; they had fear in their eyes, and when I made them strip and do things, they were frightened. I seemed to feed off that; crazy hey?”

Both her housemates shrugged; who were they to judge, even if Lia was walking a dangerous line?

****

Back at his office on Monday, Kevin Greenfield threw himself into his projects. He wanted to wrap this stuff up and give himself some time without any responsibilities. Maybe he could even shorten his stay here to a month?

Should he contact Sue, his ex-wife? Probably not a good idea. Anyway, she had moved to Pittsburgh and would really be of no help. Greenfield’s phone rang and his mind went back to business.

****

Tuesday after work, Kendra had wrapped up things early enough to make a little stop at the book store on the ground floor of their building. The girl at the cash was someone she had noticed before; a very pretty girl with auburn hair and a manner that Kendra found, appealing. Kendra checked the nametag, ‘Meg’. Hmmmm, she thought, Meg; what is your story?

****

That night, after Mary and Meg had rehearsed for a couple of productive hours, they decided to relax with some wine on Meg’s couch.

“When you going to replace this old thing?” Mary asked, sitting down gingerly.

Meg laughed. “After my first hit song.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Mary announced, raising her glass and then taking a drink. The two young women chatted pleasantly as the first glass of wine went down, and then there was a pause, and suddenly Meg felt a little shy.

“What is it there, girl?” Mary asked, lifting Meg’s face.

Meg smiled, “I was just thinking about our, you know, goodbye the other night.”

“Our kiss, well, kisses?” Mary raised an eyebrow, and Meg nodded her head. “You liked them.”

Meg paused, before saying quietly, “I did.”

“And…?” Mary smiled a mischievous smile. Meg just laughed and got flustered, so Mary leaned in and kissed her. The two held the kiss for a long while, and then kissed again, Mary’s hand coming up to brush away some hair from Meg’s face, and then to gently hold it.

Meg reached her hand up and stroked Mary’s arm. Mary introduced her tongue into Meg’s mouth slowly, and then accepted Meg’s in return, sucking it gently, before reaching up and cradling one of Meg’s small breasts.

As Mary gently squeezed and caressed the flesh though shirt and bra, feeling the nipple harden to her touch, Meg murmured, “It’s not very big, eh?”

Mary placed Meg’s hand on her slightly larger breast saying, “It doesn’t matter. All that matters is it’s yours, and it feels wonderful.”

“Yours feels really nice, too.” Meg said quietly as her hand closed and opened on the soft mound. Silently, Mary lifted her top off and then unclasped her bra, letting it fall away and directing Meg’s mouth down to a swollen nipple. “Ummmm, oh jeez,” Meg murmured as she took in as much breast as possible, sucking hard on the nipples as Mary moaned in response.

“Oh fuck, Meg. You’re telling me you haven’t done this before, ummmmm?” Mary’s hands were now grasping masses of Meg’s lovely hair. Standing up, Mary undid her jeans and pulled them down, then turned and teasingly drew his panties down over her round hips, wiggling her ass as she did this dance. Turning back, she reached over and opened Meg’s mouth, putting her panties in. She then helped Meg to stand up and removed her pants and thong.

“Sexy!” She enthused and then added, “Oh, wow, your hair down here is something,” before burying her face in the dense tangle of reddish curls. Meg groaned in reply as Mary’s tongue had found her clit mound and was sucking and licking on and around it.

After some persistent oral, and believing that Meg was close to orgasm, Mary paused and stood, then took Meg by the hand and led the way to the bedroom.

****

“Hey, we never discussed your ‘girl’,” Kendra noted as she and Jessica ate together in their place, Lia as she had mentioned not coming home until later that night.

Jessica laughed, “Yeah, I don’t think I’m, like, as specific, you know, as Lia was. She’s put some thought into this. I have tended to kinda’ just go with what’s on tap, so to speak.”

Kendra chuckled as she finished her meal and stood, “Yeah, that’s kind of like me, but we both like different things. So, come on, you can at least say what sort of woman interests you.”

Jessica mulled this over for a minute; she had considered this, a little, but had never really nailed down a list of any sort; such as, I like red hair, or don’t like big time sports gals, whatever. There was, however, a certain scenario that did it for her, and it always related back to her childhood past. She liked submissive girls on their knees wearing a collar and being led on a leash.

Wellll, I am into, and I just a little while ago found out there’s a name for it, fuck, unreal; it’s called doggy girls.”

“I’ve heard of that.” Kendra interrupted. “There’s also doggy boys, right?”

“Makes sense, ‘cuz it’s what they do, right? It’s only doggy girls for me. But what’s weird with my um, thing, is that I want to break the girl down to this, make her accept it. I know there are girls out there, like Allie, who are closet-submissives and just really want that dominant one to take control. But I want to turn a regular, I guess, girl, into my own doggy girl. She would be my pet; she wouldn’t speak, she’d eat and drink out of her bowl, have a doggy tail jammed up her butt, sleep in her crate, pee outside….”

Kendra interrupted again, “Man, sounds like you’ve thought about this a whole lot more than you let on, kid.”

Jessica laughed, getting up from the table, “Yeah, I guess I have. You want coffee?”

“Yeah thanks.” As Kendra watched Jessica go about her task, she remembered a face, a manner. “Hey, you know what?”

Jessica made a face, “No. What?” Then laughed. 

Kendra chuckled as well; “I met a girl yesterday you should check out; in the bookstore of our building. There’s something about her that tells me she could be a candidate, for you, I mean, maybe.”

“Details, Kendy, details.”

The woman laughed, “Yeah, sure. Ok. Um, young, well, your age, and that’s young to me. About your height, slim, dark brown, actually, auburn hair; pretty with a um, shyness.”

“Tits?”

“Two, I’m pretty sure,” Kendra winked.

“Ha, ha,” Jessica mocked, “Large or small?”

Kendra pondered, “Well, not large, because nothing is registering. Medium to small, I’m thinking.”

“And you really think I should check her out?”

“I do.”

****

Lillian Clark, tall, athletic; waited in the alley for her boyfriend. Part of her did not want to be waiting here; even now, after all these years, she still thought of home and her mother; although to be honest, what was in her mind was more hope than truth. Her mother…shit. Her mother’s boyfriends were the problem; or one of the problems.

Yeah, okay, her mother was also a big problem.

Now seventeen, almost eighteen actually, she had been on and off the streets for four years, in and out of homes and relationships, including one really bad time she didn’t like to think on. But Teri was different. He was a little older and he ran with a crowd that drove cool vehicles and lived in upscale condos.

And he had been good to her; hadn’t forced any bad drugs on her. There was always grass at his place, even if he didn’t always let her live there. With his black parents and her native background, she agreed they should break the news slowly. But tonight he needed her and she would not let him down; he was the best boyfriend she’d ever had. She repeated that phrase to herself like a chant.

****

“Oh, that’s not good,” Meg murmured into her cell to Mary. Her friend had just informed her that she would need to travel home to Toronto for a little while.

“Yeah,” Mary continued, “Mom says it was a minor stroke, but Dad is having difficulty and won’t be released for a while, anyway, so I just want to be there and help.”

“Well, there’s only the one gig coming up, so I’m not going to have to replace you, girl. You go and look after things and keep me informed. Promise.”

“I promise. I’ll call you once I’m there.” There was a pause. “I, um, I’ll miss you Meg. I really, like really, really enjoyed our time the other night. Jeez, that felt so good. Leaving you now is so hard, but it won’t be long. You’ll miss me, won’t you?”

Meg was silent; the sex with Mary had been so wonderful that she was still pinching herself, and now the girl was taking off. “I can’t really say just how much I’ll miss you, Mar; it’s too much. I wish I was with you right now, but I know what you’ve got to do and I can’t be selfish. Now, I’m going to go before I start bawling.”

****

Saturday was fairly quiet at the Cambridge Correctional Centre. The facility could house up to one hundred girls and currently eighty-two beds were in use, with Lia and her partner just processing a new arrival. It had been the only action so far this evening and it was past eleven.

But just as Lia closed up that file on her computer, her partner Holly announced, “Oh, look. Another customer coming in.”

Lia looked up to see a tall, pretty (very pretty) native girl being brought in by two uniformed police officers. Possession and possession with intent to sell as well as theft over $500 were the charges. The girl’s name was Lillian Clark.

****

“So, we also never got around to discussin’ what kind of women you’re into,” Jessica noted, as she and Kendra lounged on their couches, both drinking wine.

Kendra raised an eyebrow. “It’s not just women, you know, kiddo,” she smirked.

“Oh, yeah, so I’ve, uh, I dunno’, heard. Somewhere. You’re good with the boys too, hmmm?”

Kendra regarded her housemate, “Well, I was married to one for two years, so I guess, yeah.” She smiled.

“No shit? This is news. What’s the story?”

Kendra then filled Jessica in on her early twenty’s marriage that ended ‘with a whimper’, as she put it, followed by eighteen months living in a lesbian relationship, followed by a stretch where, “I was screwing pretty much anything”; followed by a period of ”seclusion, or sexual hibernation, I don’t know,” she said.

“A close friend developed AIDS and I just lost it. Watching him die in a matter of months, from a sexually transmitted disease, shook me. Really shook me. I retreated into a shell, and when I came out of it I developed this interest in pain and pleasure, but with no dicks allowed inside me. Just because. But I can still spank a sweet man’s ass, or a regular dude’s sweet ass, if he’s the right type,” she chuckled.

Jessica needed to just sit for a moment and take this in. “Shit, that’s heavy, babe. Hmmmm. So, there’s no real type of woman, no look or, um, nature, like?”

“Well, there has to be some inclination to pain; everyone has a bit; some people have more; some have a lot. I get turned on when I make someone suffer, a little anyway, at my hand. I’m not turned on by stuff that happens to people out there, floods and fires and um, shit. That stuff bothers me, that kind of suffering. I’m talking about in my room, tied to my table, feeling my paddle or device. Under my control; that’s what I like.”

Jessica smiled at this disclosure. “Good thing you haven’t made any moves on me, there, Mistress Kendra.”

Kendra grinned. “Doesn’t mean I haven’t thought of it,” she chuckled. “Oh, and that would be Goddess Kendra to you mere mortals.”

Jessica laughed and poured some more wine.

****

The tall girl stood silently in the small, concrete room. Lia sat on a chair regarding her silently; her partner Holly had just spent some time with the ‘newbie’, and now it was Lia’s turn, as the other watched the front desk.

“What did officer Dunham do with you?” Lia asked in a quiet, but ominous voice.

Lillian stared straight ahead, her eyes cold and dark. She was acting defiant, and doing a pretty good job, but Lia wasn’t buying it; not yet anyway. “Officer who?” the girl asked, not looking over at her oppressor.

Lia chuckled. Standing, she noted that the girl was her height, maybe even a nudge taller, but much slimmer. In a move, Lia had pulled the girl’s arms behind her and fastened them with plastic ties. “You’re hurtin’ me,” she protested, “I’m gonna scream my face off and you’ll be in…shit.”

Lia came up behind the girl, leaning into her, letting the girl feel her mass, her presence. She spoke quietly into the back of the girl’s partially shaved head. “What tribe are you?” she asked.

“What ‘da fuck do you care?” Lillian responded, but Lia could see the breathing increase, she knew a sense of panic was not far off. She pulled the girl down to a chair, and then took a plastic bag from a shelf and deftly pulled it over the girl’s head, before pulling it tight and cutting off the oxygen. The girl struggled desperately, but Lia’s bulk was too much for her.

In a few moments, Lia took the bag off and let the girl’s breathing calm slightly before she began, a wetness already building between her thighs. “We haven’t processed you, you fucking, stupid bitch! You filthy, fucking whore. Right now you don’t exist. You’re in youth DT, those officers that brought you in aren’t going to check on you. Nobody cares, cunt. Fucking cunt.”

Lia paused, looking hard at the girl, considering. “I’m going to show you something, you stupid whore,” she said.

With that, Lia lifted the girl by the black hair of the unshaved part of her head. She pulled the girl out a side door and down a deserted hallway, and then down a flight of steps. As soon as they were on the lower floor, it was like a chill came over them; at least it came over Lillian.

This part of the building was seldom used; it contained four contain cells; basic, concrete bunkers with a drain in the floor for urination, a bucket in the corner for anything else, and a single tap that allowing nothing more than a dribble of water. Cells from another time.

A small, grated window that could be closed sat in the steel door, and was the only opening in the dreary room. A single light bulb twenty feet up was also the only light, and a metal, three-foot wide shelf, bare as the room, was what functioned as a bed.

Lia pushed the girl through the door and closed it, speaking through the grate. “Enjoy this. Scream your face off all you want. I’ll be back, oh, sometime, and you’ll be more cooperative, or this is where you’ll die, you Ojibwa whore. Yeah, I know your tribe. I know where you’re from.” Lia said as the girl looked up with fear.

“Wait!” Lillian screamed, as Lia closed the window.

The woman waited for thirty seconds, then drew the little door over. “What?” she asked gruffly.

“Wait, uh, I’m sorry, fuck. I, ummm, I’ll be better; I’ll, like, cooperate, ok. Please, don’t leave me here.” Lia regarded the girl with silence. “Please.” She repeated, her eyes holding fear…and something else.

Whatever she saw there, Lia opened the cell and entered, looking at the girl standing quietly on the concrete floor. She moved to her, and then tugged the girl, again by her hair, to sit before the metal bed/shelf, which Lia then sat on. “You’ll be, cooperative?” She asked quietly, looking down, and the girl nodded her head. “Say it, Lilli-bitch.” Lia commanded.

“I’ll, cooperate.” Lillian said quietly, tears beginning to slide down her brown cheeks, which was all the encouragement Lia needed.

“Good. We’ll see,” Lia said. “Show me some cooperation there, Lilli-girly, and I’ll make things so much better for you.”

****

“Ok, what’s the deal?” Kendra asked, standing in a night robe and looking at the near-naked girl kneeling in the center of their living room.

Lia rubbed a hand over her face; she was tired and uncertain. She had made a decision, her partner asking her to think twice about this, which she had and still made it anyway. She had snuck Lillian Clark out of the DT centre, avoiding cameras, and before she had been processed. At this point, the girl did not exist, as far as the corrections system was concerned.

The big problem, and what Lia was wrestling with, was the girl’s age. “I want this girl, Kend; but, she doesn’t turn eighteen for a few weeks, so I’m not sure what to do.” At this point Jessica came down to join them, wearing pajama bottoms and a T-shirt; it being two-thirty in the morning. She had heard the last part of the conversation.

“Well, I’m not touching her, Lia.” Kendra said, evenly. “Not at least for a few weeks; how many?” she asked.

Lia held up five fingers.

“Well, there you go, what the Hell you going to do with her for five weeks. I’m salivating just looking at her now.” Kendra complained.

“How come she’s so, uh, spaced, Lia?” Jessica asked.

“I needed her to be cool but still mobile, so I gave her some exotal and diazepam, so she’s very, um, relaxed and compliant.”

“She’s gotta’ be submissive, though, to start with, kids. Just look at her. Fuck, I love what’s showing under that thong; is she native?”

“Ojibwa; comes from around Thunder Bay, I think.”

Kendra nodded her head. “Man, she is hot. There’s no way I can have that around here without a taste. You’ve got to get her out of here, Lia. I’m serious.”

Jessica opened her legs and pajama fly opening, showing her shaved pubis; although, because she was sitting behind Lillian, the girl could not see her. “We can’t even have her do a test lick?” She asked, with ‘puppy eyes’.

“No,” Kendra spoke sharply and then laughed. “that’s just the problem. We’d all like this sweet piece to be eating us, which is why she needs to go; for a few weeks, and then bring her back for the fun and games. And I’m serious about that, too.”

Lia nodded her head slowly and picked up her cell.

****

Sunday morning when Lia came down to the kitchen, Jessica and Kendra had just finished their breakfast;

it was a late start following a very late night.

Lillian was gone; Jessica and Kendra weren’t sure where; they would wait for Lia to inform them. As Lia slouched into a chair with her coffee, Jessica asked, “You ok?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Jessica regarded her house mate; she seemed more tired than angry or upset. “Well, you had to make a decision that wasn’t easy. So, you good or do you need some love?”

Lia smiled. “Thanks, Jess. It was a dumb thing to do, I get that.”

“We all do stuff, kid.” Kendra added from the sink, then paused. “You going to tell us what you did, or, we just leave that alone?”

Lia looked at them, one to the other. “Probably best for now you aren’t involved. Sorry for dragging you in.”

“It’s ok, Lia. We are together on this. Will you be able to get her back in a few weeks?”

Lia pondered, “Yeah, I think it will work out. I think I’ll get her back.”

Everyone looked from one to the other. “Well,” Kendra exclaimed, “guess I need to get going on that basement room. Fun‘n games, right?”

Everyone chuckled, a little.

****

Late Monday afternoon Meg was doing some restocking in the store, when she noticed a slim, brown-haired girl, about her height and likely around her age, standing and…regarding her. The girl then approached her and said, “I have a friend who works in this building and mentioned you.”

“Me?” Meg asked, with bafflement.

“Yeah, the auburn hair, the slim build, a lot like mine, eh?” The girl smiled.

Meg blushed, unsure of this whole conversation and feeling a little overwhelmed by this attractive, confident young woman. “Okaaaay, um, how can I help you…?

“Jessica…” the girl held out her hand, “Jessica Robb.”

“Nice to meet you.” Meg said, blushing again, and not sure why.

(End of Chapter 02)

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A Mask Of Love by LongDarkRoad Chapter 1 A Woman Is Not What She Thinks, But What She Hides

A Mask of Love

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 01

A Woman Is Not What She Thinks, But What She Hides 

And still you come to me as I wait, disguised in my silence,

your memory still warm within; the dagger of jealous pity piercing my armor,

a mask of love placed so as to hide the truth;

It was the earliest sexual-based memory she had, and it involved her father. But not in the way most would immediately assume. Jessica Robb and her friend, and now housemate Lia Robinson, were having drinks and somehow the conversation had drifted here, to sexual memories.

“My first memory is, like, dark. I’m not kidding.” Jessica sipped her Merlot.

Lia studied her companion. Although she had known her, not closely but for several years; since high school in fact; it was only now with them sharing a house that she seemed to really regard the woman. At school they had chatted occasionally, but always about gossip or insignificant things. They had been in several classes together in their graduation year; but they had never gone out or shared anything remotely intimate in their chats. Both girls had been loners in their own way.

Lia, large and intimidating, but struggling with her sexuality. Jessica, attractive but inclined to not enhance it, preferring to stay on the sidelines, out of direct view. A few teachers had discovered one thing about Jessica which she tried to hide from classmates; she was amazingly intelligent; but the teachers had discovered this through the ‘back door’ as it were, as they dealt with Jessica’s plots and schemes. She would rarely train her mind on her studies.

“Hmmmm,” Lia grunted, “try being black in a white school for some dark memories, there bitch.” She grinned, sipping her scotch.

Jessica smiled at the woman across from her, the thick, black hair on her head cut short; she was not concerned with looking masculine now. Being five-nine and a little ‘beefy’ worked well in the juvenile detention center where she was a guard. “You’re not black, you’re beige, girl.” Jessica noted to her Jamaican partner. “And why the Hell do you drink scotch? Jeez.” They both laughed.

Lia continued. “Come on, out with it. You always talk around things, girl, give me some straight shit sometime. I will tell you stuff, but now you’ve got me interested with your hush hush bullshit.” She paused, “And I drink scotch ‘cuz I like to sip.”

Jessica smiled and ran a long, painted nail up the side of her wine glass. She had musician’s hands, with slender fingers; although she wasn’t a musician. She had found her calling with computers, a place she could lose herself in, become who she wished and ignore all the expectations and the insinuations of others.

Now twenty-two, she had evolved into a lovely and feminine woman, one who almost over-emphasized feminine traits; her walk, her hand gestures. Her long, light brown hair, so soft and alluring. She and Lia were strikingly opposite in appearance, which was one of the things that Jessica liked about their relationship. “I think we, at least I, need another drink, doll.” She smirked, signalling the server.

In a moment the short, slight and pretty girl made eye contact, noted Jessica’s signal and then, after a trip to the bar returned with scotch for one and wine for the other. Jessica nonchalantly ran her hand up the server’s leg, right up under her short black dress. The girl laughed and moved side-ways a step, but didn’t appear concerned. “Thanks cutie,” Jessica smiled up at the girl, “Tell me. Which one of us would you let go down on you?”

The girl laughed and placed her tray against her mid-section, almost as a shield. “Well, um, actually like I’ve got a boyfriend, right?” She smiled and moved off, but did look back to catch Jessica smirking at her.

Lia laughed, “You wouldn’t have done that back in high school.”

Jessica shook her head, “Nope, back then I was too busy figuring out what I was.”

****

In another bar, a few blocks away, Kevin Greenfield sipped his beer and listened with interest and wonder to the lovely young woman who was singing on the small stage. The room was at least two thirds full to see Meg and Mary, and they were appreciative of the girls’ harmonies and selection of covers and a few well-written originals. Kevin was more interested than most, however, as the Meg in Meg and Mary, was his daughter.

It had been years since the divorce, and Kevin had spent a lot of time and not a little money in tracking down his ex-wife and their daughter; but once he found her, living now in Ottawa, Canada, he was in no rush to meet her. He understood how disruptive it could be for the young woman he didn’t really know, and for now he simply wanted to learn more himself.

He sat and sipped his beer, amazed that an offspring of his could be so talented. He, himself, had no artistic ability of any kind; zero. He smiled a smile of pride.

****

“Ok, so I was, like, seven, so we’re talking like years ago.”

“Absolutely,” Lia nodded her head, a small grin on her face, “Um, decades, right? Centuries even?”

“Yeah, yeah, smart ass; you keep interrupting and we’ll start talking sports.” Jessica raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry, I was being a smart ass ‘cuz I know this is…awkward. I’ll keep my yap closed.”

“Good. Ok, so,” Jessica sipped some wine, aware that

the server had just been regarding her again. “So, it had been a couple of year since my mom had died, and my dad had married my dear old step-mom, the witch. It was maybe four or five months since she’d moved in. We were living in this old house in Vancouver, with the bedrooms upstairs, and it had these big grates in the floor, big black things. You could look right down and see the room below.

There were three bedrooms up and the spare one had this big grate and I used to, like, use it to spy on um, whoever. It was just fun. I wasn’t trying to learn anything.”

“Hey, you were a kid. Kids like to spy. I used to watch my older brother jerk off.”

Jessica grinned, “Gee, thanks for sharing.” They both laughed. “Too bad for you it was a skill you never needed to use.”

Jessica chuckled and Lia laughed out loud. “Yeah, it was even kinda’ boring then, but sorry, go on.”

Jessica started up again. “Yeah, um, well, one night I was just doin’ some spyin’ and I see my father, the step-bitch and a friend of hers down below; it was the living room, right? But I sat frozen, ‘cuz my dad was naked. I shoulda’ just run off, fuck, but I was, I don’t know, transfixed I guess. Anyway, I sat and watched.”

Lia did not interrupt here; she simply nodded her head and waited.

****

Mary gave Meg a little hug, “Man, that was cool. Gee, I saw some money go in the tip hat, eh?”

Meg waved an array of bills, before handing some to her partner, “With the door, we got two hundred and sixty-five bucks, kiddo. Our best night.”

“Cool,” Mary said, stuffing the cash in her pocket, “maybe you can quit your bookstore gig and do this full time?”

“And you’d leave your job and tour with me, hmmmm?” Meg replied. Mary looked up at her friend, the Irish in the girl’s heritage showing as the stage lights lit her auburn curls.

Shaking her head, Mary replied, “You’re right, we need to take things slower. But tonight was fun; performing is fun, even if it makes me think I’ll pee myself.” Both girls laughed and picked up their guitar cases, heading out. From his car, Kevin watched his daughter and her friend head down the street and then disappear behind the building by the parking lot.

Stopping by Meg’s old car, Mary said, “So, want to get together later this week or…?”

“I’ll call you; we don’t have another gig for two weeks, which is too bad ‘cuz I’m pumped.”

“Me too,” Mary agreed, then leaned up (Meg at five-six being a touch taller than she was) and kissed Meg on the mouth.

The girl stood looking puzzled. “What was that?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, no big deal. I like you, we’re buds, and it was really good tonight. What’s wrong with expressing ourselves.”

“But, you’re not a….”

“Lesbian? Oh, please, Meg. Let’s cool it with the labels. I just kissed Meg Greenfield, a person I like. There, that’s it. I’m not going to run off and hump the first woman I see or anything.”

Meg suddenly felt sheepish, “Hey, look, I’m sorry. That was an over-reaction.”

“Good.” Mary said, and leaned up and kissed Meg again, holding it a little longer, then she smiled and waved. ”Call me, kid.”

Meg stood for a moment just watching her friend walk away. That kiss had felt very nice. Since her break-up with long-time boyfriend Derek five months ago, Meg had been reluctant about any sort of dating or, well, anything. She waved at Mary, “I will.”

****

“It is so crazy, now looking back, trying to get into my head what I thought when I was seven. I had never even seen a cock, well, I saw our neighbor boy’s little junk package when he was three and would run around naked. So I kinda’ knew the deal, but to see my father’s cock, a man’s cock; and it was hard; stickin’ out.”

Lia could not stay quiet, “What the Hell was goin’ on down there, girl?”

“Kinky shit.”

“No kiddin’.” They both sipped some more.

“So the step-bitch was wearin’ just her undies, and then the other lady came into view and she was totally naked and I saw my first bush. Neither of the gals were into shavin’ the pubes, obviously. One had black hair and one light brown; I saw the witch a little later. And both were hairy, right up their asses and bellies. I remember thinking there was an animal between their legs.”

Both women hooted at this, and then their server came over. “You ladies need a top up,” she said smiling, and then Jessica slid her hand up the woman’s leg again, but this time the girl did not move away.

“We’re good for a few minutes, give us ten maybe, but, you know, you didn’t answer our question last time.” Jessica was gently squeezing the woman’s left cheek as she asked this.

The server smiled, “But I told you, I have a boyfriend.”

“So, what’s that got to do with anything? He ain’t here now, is he? Do you guys even live together?”

The server looked a little uncomfortable with the question, but she still hadn’t moved, and Jessica’s fingers were now stroking her panty-covered vagina. “Well, still, you’ve gotta’ be faithful, eh?” The woman moved gently away and Jessica let her hand fall. “Be back in a few minutes.” Lia chuckled as the server moved off, Jessica’s eyes focused on the woman’s ass.

“Shit girl, you got balls; or somethin’. Ok, back to the story. What the Hell was goin’ down?”

****

Meg carefully drove her 2004 Focus west out of the downtown area, heading to the little rental condo she had moved into just three weeks earlier. She was always terrified the vehicle would suddenly die, and she would be stranded.

Recently graduated from business school, she had not found a real job, yet, working part time in a downtown bookstore while playing wherever she could. It was her dream to be a performer; likely why she had not really pursued any other job.

Once home, she lay on her worn, garage sale couch, covered with a blanket to improve its appearance, and thought, with a smile, of the night. It had been rewarding; but what of the kiss from Mary? She got up and made herself a cup of tea; she would think of Mary later.

Across town, in a much nicer condo, Kevin Greenfield also thought with fondness of the night; his daughter could clearly use his assistance and his means; but would she accept his help? And how would he go about approaching her and offering?

He got up and poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels.

He needed something stronger than beer.

****

“Ok, so to shorten this thing down, I watched what went down on that night, even though I didn’t understand it. And I saw more; my father’s, um, abuse I guess you could call it, would happen a couple of times a month. Sometimes he was too far over and I couldn’t see what was happening, through the grate, but I saw enough over time.”

Lia contemplated the young woman who now sat in thought. “Okay, good so far; but I want details; you’re not gonna’ start something’ like this and leave out the good parts, even if they’re about dear old papa, eh?”

Jessica snorted. “Ok, they did stuff to his cock; they had scarves or whatever tied around and they yanked him; they actually kicked his balls, both women took turns. When his erection faded, they would touch him and play with him and get it back, but they never let him come.

They made him lick their feet and grovel; they stuck things up his ass and he thanked them, on his knees. Shit. They led him around with a collar around his neck. They blindfolded him and had him lick their hairy pussies. And then one day, we moved out of that house and I couldn’t see what happened to him in our new place. I know stuff did; I could hear it, right; but I couldn’t see it.”

Lia finished her scotch. “Shit,” she replied.

Jessica sat in thought again, then blurted out, “I played with my little, tight pussy that first night, and every time after. I didn’t have a clue why; it just happened and felt good. But now, when I see someone on their knees with a collar, being led around naked, it all comes back, only now it really turns me on.”

At this point the server returned. “Ready for another now, ladies?” she asked, smiling broadly.

“What time do you get off?” Jessica asked; she was smiling sweetly; her winning smile; apparently it was effective.

The server hesitated for a moment, then said, “In half an hour.”

“We’ll meet you out back, ok? I’m driving a blue Prius. Bring the tab now, ok hon?” The girl swallowed and hurried off. Lia looked across the table and smiled, gently shaking her head.

****

At two in the morning, Kendra Chand came down the stairs into the pleasantly furnished living room of the house she shared with Lia Robinson and Jessica Robb. At thirty she was the oldest, and her career as a lawyer, now in its third year, meant she earned the most, which was why she put in half the down payment for the house while the other two split the remaining half. The same thing was in place with the monthly mortgage.

For this, she got to make decisions about furnishings, etcetera, the result being that the home was attractive and pleasant. “If it was my place, we’d be sitting on boxes.” Jessica had remarked. Lia had concurred, both agreeing that Kendra should be the one in charge.

Chand stood an average five-five, just like Jessica, but unlike the slim brown-haired girl, Kendra was stocky with generous hips and modest breasts (if I start going pear-shape, shoot me, she’d chortled to her housemates). Her dark, straight, short hair marking her father’s East Indian ancestry, but with a complexion looking like a good tan, showing her mother’s English heritage’s contribution to her DNA. She was a no-nonsense sort whose sexuality was flexible.

“Who’s the naked girl tied to the bed in the spare bedroom?” she asked Lia and Jessica, both lounging in on couches. She did not sound startled at this, just curious. Jessica, wearing just a T-shirt and her thong panties snorted and threw a cushion at Lia. “We didn’t even get the girl’s name, Boss,” she laughed.

Lia caught the cushion and added, “Ha ha; I guess we had other things on our mind.” Both young women laughed. Once they had her home, they had instructed the girl to strip as they watched, Lia then spanking her until she cried and agreed to do what they wished.

Jessica had then attached one of her dog collars on the girl and had Lia walk her around the living room as she watched and fondled herself. The girl’s hands were then tied behind her and she was made to lick and suck the two very different vaginas that her face had been pushed into; Lia’s dark, heavy ‘sausage-like’ labia, and Jessica’s shaved and tight pink pussy, with its single labia ring below a silver belly-button bar.

The girl was then tied to the bed in the upstairs room, with both Lia and Jessica riding the girl’s face to another orgasm before they took turns fucking her with an assortment of strap-ons.

They had left her blindfolded and with her panties stuffed into her mouth as they came downstairs to relax. Jessica in fact had just returned from a joint on the patio and they had just begun chatting about their captive minutes before Kendra’s arrival.

“So what’s the deal?” Kendra asked, “She anybody’s, um, property?”

Both of her housemates shook their heads, “She’s just fun and games, K. Go help yourself if you want.”

“How far can I go?” Kendra asked. Both Lia and Jessica knew Kendra’s interests were with BDSM; it was how Lia had met the woman two years ago.

“Just take it easy, Kend, ok? No harm. We’ve already spanked her ass and fucked her really hard. Have fun, just don’t break anything, all right?”

Kendra chuckled, “No worries, kids; she’ll still be in one piece for the morning. I’m thinking you’ll want to use her again?” Both women nodded their heads as Kendra made her way back upstairs.

****

Not feeling tired, and with her mind going around in circles, Meg got up and went to her computer. She checked a few emails, catching up for the last week. Then she did a search for ‘lesbian seduction’.

Half an hour later she shut things down; the girls in the videos were all so artificial that it really didn’t do much for her, although the more she thought of some soft womanly lips kissing her ‘naughty parts’, the more dedicated her fingers became as they pressed on her clit, circling the soft bud. “Uummmm,” she moaned, feeling a nice glow spread through her.

She then pictured Mary’s blond head between her thighs and her face looking up at her; this moved things along. She felt an orgasm was close, just needed a little more fantasy. Without any plan, her next thoughts were of herself, kneeling naked in front of Mary, as her friend spread her legs.

“Lick me, Meg bitch,” the Mary in her fantasy directed, and Meg saw in her mind a vagina, lightly covered in blond hair, open before her; and then her mouth descend on it with eagerness. “Uhhhh,” Meg cried, as this vision did the trick and her body responded with a quick series of spasms. “Mmmmmm,” She moaned softly, a smile on her face.

****

Eight AM Saturday morning and Lia and Jessica brought the server downstairs, her hands tied behind her. Some mild welts on her ass and a few bits of wax on her freshly shaved pussy were all the evidence of Kendra’s time with her. The girl mumbled something in protest but her mouth was still gagged. She still had her collar on and Jessica had the leash attached as they led the naked girl into their back yard.

One of the things they had liked about their property was the back yard’s orientation to its neighbors and its high fence. No one could see them and that was good because they planned to use this area for ‘fun’. Right now they asked the girl if she needed to pee and she nodded her head ‘yes’ and they pointed to the grass and she shook her head ‘no’.

“Ok, little cunt, we’re going inside. This is your only chance; if you pee inside we’ll make you lick it up,” Lia warned. They turned and started back inside and the girl pulled on her leash and made noises, then nodded her head ‘yes’.

They stood back as she squatted down and closed her eyes, before sending a yellow stream into the grass. Lia forced the girl’s eyes open, saying, “No hiding, little cunt.” When the girl finished she looked down at the grass. Lia tilted the girl’s face up and said,

“Wipe yourself, on the grass, like a dog.”

Both Jessica and Lia had to chuckle at the girl as she awkwardly cleaned herself. Lia didn’t help the situation by taking some pictures of this action with her cell.

They then had the girl pose in various positions with her legs spread wide as they both took some more shots.

****

Kevin Greenfield was having breakfast in a restaurant close to his condo. At some point he would have to decide what he wanted to do, but for now he knew he needed to head back to Toronto and deal with some business.

If all went well, in a few weeks he could move back here and settle in for a while, maybe for good; then he would be able to begin the process of meeting his daughter.

That was his plan.

****

Meg woke, showered, had some cereal and then thought of the evening before. She texted Mary to see if she could come over to rehearse on Tuesday and when the reply said, “Sure. What time?” she smiled.

****

Jessica dropped the girl, whose name they learned was Allie, in front of a nondescript brown townhouse. “So, you ok?” She asked.

The girl nodded her head, “That was some night,” she murmured.

“Yeah, it was probably more than what you thought,” Jessica smiled ruefully, not looking Allie in the eye.

Allie nodded. “Yeah, you got that right. I really, um, wanted to just be with you.”

Jessica looked up and they studied each other for a moment, “Do you really have a boyfriend?”

The girl grinned and nodded, “Yup again. Ragan. Five months now.”

“But you need…more?” Jessica asked quietly.

Allie shrugged her shoulders, “I guess, although I hadn’t thought of it. Until you started rubbing my leg and I wanted you to keep going.”

Jessica laughed, “Well, I did that for sure.” They sat in silence for a moment.

“Can I see you again?” Allie asked quietly.

Jessica wasn’t sure about this, but she smiled and said. “Sure. Let’s hook up again. Same deal?”

“I wish it was just you. I’d like to make love to you, just you. But if the others have to be involved, I’m ok I guess with that.”

“You had at least four orgasms, kid.”

Allie blushed, “I know, jeez, crazy eh? But I’ll leave it up to you.”

Jessica leaned over and kissed the girl, long and tenderly, licking her mouth when she pulled away. “Ok, I’ll be back at ya’. I saw you writing your cell down for Lia.”

Allie nodded. “Yeah, it’s hard to say no to her, she scares me.” She grinned and climbed out of the car, then stood watching as Jessica pulled out and headed down the road for home.

(End of Chapter 01)

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A Gathering of Clowns by LongDarkRoad Chapter 21 The Circus Has Left Town

A Gathering of Clowns

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 21 The Circus Has Left Town 

…here comes the parade, to start the show

and then the jugglers, with the little they know;

the mighty and vain are there and fierce

but they know their place for

with the sting of the whip

they sit;

and as the daredevils so careful, arrive,

(for a slip may be fatal, the end)…

but then;

they’ll send in the clowns

to gather, and…strange it is,

we’ll laugh at their frowns!

But it’s all show biz, after all;

at least until,

the curtains

fall...

****

Emily sat in the cell; they called it a holding cell. She had not, her lawyer said before he left, been formally charged yet. As always, he cautioned her against saying anything without him present. They could question her, but she didn’t have to answer without his counsel.

The door opened and Detective Hardwicke came in with a female police officer who unlocked Emily’s cuffs and led her to the table in the center of the room. The officer stood by the door as Hardwicke settled himself in the chair opposite.

“Where’s my lawyer?” Emily asked without emotion.

“He doesn’t need to be here for this; it’s only some information questions.” Hardwicke muttered.

Emily laughed out loud at this, “Bull shit,” she said, looking directly at the man; mid-forties, average height, light brown hair cut short; neatly trimmed moustache; brown suit and brown shoes. A cop.

“I would reconsider your attitude if I were you, Ms. Hawkins. These are murder charges we are dealing with,” he said, authoritatively.

Emily smirked, “And you’ve charged me, have you?”

Her attitude grated on Hardwicke intensely. Rich bitches like this were the worst, to him. He’d resented them as he grew up, a working class kid attending a school with the children of the wealthy. He had dealt with girls like this his whole life, and he wanted more than anything to teach them, and her, a lesson.

“You think you’re pretty hot, don’t you, Bitch?” The officer at the door jerked in response to this, while Emily looked at this man with obvious contempt.

“You wouldn’t know hot if it came up and sucked your pathetic cock,” she responded.

Hardwicke’s face slowly reddened. If he were a cartoon, puffs of smoke would be seen coming from his ears. “Has she been searched, officer?” he asked the woman standing guard.

The officer regarded him with some alarm as she said, “No, because she hasn’t been…”

But he halted her with a raised hand. “Do you have your gloves, officer?” She swallowed hard and nodded her head. “Get them on,” he growled.

If he had hoped this would intimidate Emily, he was mistaken. She simply sat. With a sudden move, he grabbed Emily by her arms and pulled her forward so her torso was on the table. “Ok, get those dungarees down,” he ordered the officer, who came around and gingerly pulled down the grey slacks Emily had been issued. “The underwear,” Hardwicke grunted, and the officer hesitated, then slowly pulled the black lace panties down, revealing Emily’s lovely tanned ass. “Ok, search.” Hardwicke grunted out.

The officer stood and stared. “No,” she said.

Hardwicke looked up at her as he held Emily’s arms, even though she wasn’t struggling, “What did you say?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“I said I won’t. This is wrong. She hasn’t even been charged. You can search her if you want; I won’t.” The officer stood and stared defiantly.

Uttering an oath under his breath, Hardwicke stood, grabbed his folder and stormed out. He knew he had already gone too far and he needed some air. After he had gone, the officer gently pulled up Emily’s panties and pants. “I’m sorry,” she said, simply.

Emily stood and looked at the woman, “Thank you, officer,” she looked at the name tag, “Olesky. I won’t forget that.”

“I need to do this,“ Olesky said, placing the cuffs back on and sitting Emily down, then moving to the door. She looked down at Emily, “If you are a killer, you deserved that and more. But we don’t know yet.” She left and Emily sat alone, tears beginning to leak down her cheeks.

****

Across town Carman, driving a rental car, came along Prairie Avenue and then pulled her vehicle into the reserved parking space at Hawthorne Muni Airport.

****

Back at the jail, Detective Hardwicke was madly doing damage control. He had assigned a different female officer to watch Emily’s door; “Make sure no one sees her and nothing happens, are we clear?” he had emphasized to Constable Ruud.

Word came to him then that Hawkins’s lawyer had succeeded in getting her case before a magistrate today. And now it appeared the two young women (he checked his notes, Raisha and Brianna) were telling different stories.

Damn, he thought. He didn’t need more bullshit; he was already up to his neck in it.

****

Carman left the keys to her rental inside the car, took her briefcase and then walked toward the Hawker 900 private jet that sat waiting on the tarmac. She moved quickly up the stairs and entered, gazing upon the luxurious interior, with its ivory-hued leather chairs.

Folake sat in one of the chairs now, and greeted Carman with a warm smile, before rising and coming to embrace her. They made their way to two opposing seats, separated by a walnut table and both sat.

“So, is it done?” Folake asked, quietly.

Carman looked out the window, calming herself. She nodded, unable at the moment to speak. Folake waited patiently. In the plane the attendant was bustling about, getting things ready, even though there would be only the two passengers today. Finally Carman spoke, “They’ve arrested her, or taken her anyway, so yes, that’s, mmm, done.”

“You don’t fear that will actually go anywhere, do you?”

Carman dabbed her eyes with a tissue and sighed, “No, I really don’t, and I’ve arranged for an excellent lawyer, and Ross is involved as well, but it’s still hard to think of her like that. I saw them putting her in the cruiser; she was hand-cuffed, it was…hard.”

Folake looked on with some sympathy, “She was responsible for two people’s deaths, Carman. She’s not totally innocent.”

“I know.” Carman nodded. “I understand. Still doesn’t make it any easier.”

At that moment, the attendant came around to ask them to fasten seat belts, etc. Calmer now, Carman looked across at Folake and asked, “So, what have you, um we, done with all the money?”

Folake smiled. “I’ve parcelled it into three chunks and put two in the bank in the Caymans and one in the bank in the Bahamas. One hundred sixty million is significant,” she chuckled, “But it’s all stashed away. I moved two million into our account in Cairo….”

“Cairo?” Carman asked.

Folake smiled, “Oh, yes, I didn’t mention, that’s where we’re headed. I have an apartment there, under my husband’s name, and we will be able to lay low for a while, as they say. I think you don’t touch any of the other money for six months; after that I think we, you, should be good.”

Carman nodded, “You are organized; I didn’t know anything about, well, anything beyond your…basics.”

****

“Ms. Hawkins.” The officer said. Emily looked up with hostility in her eyes, but said nothing. “They’re taking you for a hearing.”

Emily rose. At least something was happening. She hated being in this cell more than she could say.

****

Folake smiled across at her partner. “Yet even though you really know little about me, you trusted me.”

Carman nodded, “I trusted you. Although I’m still unclear why you continued to give information to Stafford Hawkins?”

They were now in the air and the attendant came to ask them about refreshments. In a few moments they each had a glass of wine and plans to eat later, probably after their first refuel. Folake sighed and then responded. “Mr. Hawkins was my client, I owed nothing to his daughter, whether I liked the man or not.”

Carman sat in thought. “But what of me?” she asked.

Folake reached across the table and touched Carman’s arm. “I would never, never have betrayed you. I only gave Hawkins enough information to maintain his trust.”

Carman smiled, “And in the end we walk away with his millions. Some of his millions, anyway.”

“You walk away with his millions,” Folake smiled.

“We are together,” Carman said, quietly.

Folake nodded, “Hopefully, for a long time. But I have moved the two million for now and that is it. I am a wealthy woman, Carman. My husband left me very well off and I do what I like and have for a long while; and I earn very good money. But I do not need to work. And I do not need your money. Wait six months, and then have fun. I will be with you.” She smiled.

****

Emily entered the court through a back door. Word of her detainment had already spread and there was a throng at the front. Melanie was in the court and waved to Emily; it was clear she had been crying. Emily smiled back and was brought to stand beside her counsel. She noticed Ross was there as well; he gave her a quick ‘thumbs up’.

Everyone looked up as the judge entered.

****

After touching down in Hawaii, the plane was back in the air when Carman’s cell phone chimed. Folake looked at her, “I’ve kept it on,” Carman said simply, then, taking a breath, she answered the call. “Hello Emily.” She paused. “I take it you, are out?” She said quietly, then waited as there was silence on the other end.

“Why Carman?” Emily finally asked, her anger apparent.

Carman took a deeper breath. “I did it for me, Em, okay, but I knew you would be…all right…”

“I was arrested, you fucking bitch. I was in a fucking cell. They…oh, shit!” Emily snarled into her phone.

Carman calmed herself, “I knew you would be taken in, and so I got you a top lawyer. I knew there was no way they could hold you, Emily. I’m guessing they didn’t actually charge you…”

“No, but it doesn’t change the fact that you betrayed me, Carman. And you’re a Goddamn thief.” Emily’s voice dripped with bitterness; Downing had informed her of the money transfer; she quickly found that the secret accounts had been emptied.

Carman gathered herself, tears beginning to fall from her eyes. “Emily, you have gotten rid of your father and Tad; you are still sitting on an empire of around two hundred million dollars and you can do whatever you wish. That’s the bottom line.” There was silence, apart from Emily’s breathing, before Carman continued, “I would say I’m sorry, and I…oh fuck, Em…” Carman was openly crying now and unable to say anymore. On the other end, Emily was as well, but she wasn’t going to let Carman know.

Finally Carman was able to at least put some words together, “Mmmm, damn it, damn it, damn it Emily. Damn it! Forget the damn money and what went down. I cared for you Em, I really did, whatever else you think, that’s a fact. That’s a fucking fact!…There.” Carman’s voice had risen and now she sat, breathing hard.

“Goddamn it Carman, why didn’t you ever say anything?” Emily yelled into her cell.

Carman shook her head. “Why Emily? Why? What fucking difference would it have made? You are you and you’ll never change; I was just another stop along the road; I couldn’t stay; you would have destroyed me, and you know it.” Both sides sat quietly.

When Emily began again she was calmer, “So, some of it was real?” she asked.

Carman sighed, “Oh Jesus Christ, Em. All of it was real. I’m not that good an actress.” Silence again.

“And all the sneaking around? You had to have snooped into my devices and shit; that’s pretty gross…”

Carman sighed, “It didn’t hurt you, Emily. Your father’s empire was large enough for the both of us. How much money do you need, anyway?”

Silence followed for thirty seconds, then Emily murmured, “Where will you go?”

Carman sighed again, “Not sure. Will you come after me?”

After a long pause Emily finally spoke, quite softly, “Probably not. Like you said, it’s true, I have more dough than I know what to do with. Daddy-kins was buying a seat on a shuttle to the moon, you know. I’m not fucking kidding. One hundred million bucks it would’ve been; but I have most of that back, or I will have. Christ.” Silence again.

“You’re okay, Em? You can deal with, um, what you’ve…done?” Carman asked quietly.

“Yeah, I’m good, kid. Really. I plan to sleep just fine tonight.” There was another pause. “I hope to see you again, Carman. And not just to wring your neck.”

Carman chuckled softly. “Yeah, that’s good. I’ll never forget you; you know that?”

“Yeah.”

“Em…”

Then the line went dead.

Folake looked at Carman and smiled warmly, nodding her head. The attendant had waited until the call was over; she now brought their food, a look of concern on her face as she glanced at Carman.

As they enjoyed their meal, food on a private jet being pleasantly different than a commercial airliner, Carman commented. “So, how will it be, with the two of us? Now, I mean?” She asked.

Folake paused in consideration. “Well, our, relationship hasn’t changed, has it? You certainly could do what you want now; do you wish to leave, try other things?” Folake looked at her and tilted her head to one side in a way that Carman had always found agreeable.

“I am happy, very happy, with us.” Carman said, feeling the emotion rising. “Life changes, but I want to be with you. That hasn’t changed.”

“But do you still wish to belong to me, my love?” Folake was focused on her food as she said this.

Carman paused. She really did have the world at her feet, but what did that matter? She trusted her gut and her feelings. She said quietly, “I wish to belong to you, Mistress. I can’t explain it, but I feel, complete. Content.” She considered. “I am just, oh, curious I guess, of your plans. This, relationship, is still new in many ways. Obviously, I no longer need to work; you can take me and do what you wish.”

Folake smiled at this, “Well, I do have plans,” she said, her eyes held a twinkle.

“Anything you want to share, Mistress?” Carman asked, now with a grin on her face. It suddenly occurred to her that she smiled a lot more these days…

Folake took a mouthful of pasta and drank some wine, before continuing. “Well, I do want to take you to a slave weekend. In London, actually. I still have friends there who do that sort of thing.”

“Friends with slaves?” Carman asked, eyebrows raised.

Folake laughed, “Exactly. Most of the people I know in London are in this, em, lifestyle. I have missed it, but for the longest time I have not had a slave I felt proud enough of to share; until now.” She said quietly.

Carman paused for a moment, amazed at the arousal this conversation was producing. How had she lived so long without this? Maybe it was always there, waiting. “And now you…do.” She finally said, her voice husky.

Folake looked back with a loving gaze. “Yes.” She maintained her gaze. “That excites you, the thought that I can now use you as I desire?” Folake asked, a smile on her face.

Carman looked up. Her face showed contentment as well as desire. “It drives me crazy.” She thought for a moment of Candace, why she didn’t know, but carried on. “It, um, slays me,” she said, and laughed. They raised their glasses to each other.

The plane banked, then levelled off. Below them, as far as one could see, was the darkening blue of the Pacific.

****

(Six days later.)

The police had not proceeded with any charges, and likely would not. Detective Hardwicke had been suspended. Life had moved on.

Emily had now made the decision, not at all difficult, to get rid of her father’s collection; she certainly had no use for it. But rather than just packing it up, Melanie had suggested they get it appraised (I think there’s some, oh, unusual items, Em, she had said.)

So Emily had contacted a firm and they had sent out an appraiser and his assistant, who were currently hard at work and had been for a while. Emily had decided to see how they were doing, and was talking now with a short, be-speckled fellow, who was in charge.

He spoke, “So, this is an amazing collection…” he began.

“Yeah, yeah, right, but let’s cut right to it. What are we lookin’ at?” Emily replied, wanting this done with.

“Well, there are some rare pieces, and then there are the paintings…”

“So, like, where are we…?”

“You do realize there is a Picasso in there, and a Dali?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you say. What’s it all worth?”

The man adjusted his glasses and consulted his notes, “If you sold everything individually and got a fair price, well, we’re talking…”

”C’mon, my man, spit it out.”

“Well, possibly as high as; thirty million dollars?” The man looked up, his eyes were large and round behind his spectacles.

Emily nodded her head and smiled. “Yeah, but what if your company just took the whole load?”

“W-well, that is different, I would have to consult the partners…”

“Well, you do that, what’s your name again?” Emily asked. They had begun the walk down the hallway.

The little man, dressed in a spotless grey sports coat and bow tie, hair neatly parted and combed, looked up at her. “Dapper,” he said.

Emily suppressed her laugh, but a smile did manage to break out, “Your name is, um, Mr. Dapper?”

“Yes, Ms. Hawkins, that is correct, why?”

Emily regarded him, afraid any second she would lose it, “Is your first name, um, Richard, by any chance?”

“No, it’s Steven, why?”

Emily looked up, knowing if she looked down and directly at him, she would laugh and probably not stop, “Well, it’s just that if it was Richard, you could be…Dapper Dick, right?” She focused on the man’s assistant, who was measuring one of the brass clowns, stifling a growing guffaw.

“Um, I’m afraid I don’t understand…”

Emily turned and started to walk toward the staircase, the little man tagging along. “Do you, uh, sing, Steven?” She continued.

The man did smile broadly at that, “Yes, I am in a men’s barber shop quartet.”

Emily stopped and looked down at him, before continuing, “Of course you are; and like, um, you know, that’s too bad. I was thinking more of, you know, rap music.” She actually chuckled here.

“Oh no, no, that’s not for me…”

“Yeah, I get that, Mr. D. But it’s too bad, ‘cuz then you could be Dapper the Rapper, hey?”

The man paused, “Well, I don’t really see…”

“It’s ok, Mr. D.” Emily said, hurrying down the stairs. “Talk later.” She needed to get out to the patio. She needed to laugh.

And have a smoke.

****

(One week later)

“My God, can you believe how much stuff there is?” Melanie asked, as she and Emily stood observing a half dozen workers carry boxes out to the waiting truck. Emily simply shook her head in response, then said, “Oh, look, here comes our little man now.”

Steve Dapper, true to his name, was hurrying toward them. “Good morning, Ms. Hawkins, we should be finished soon and on our way.”

“Great, Stevie Ray Gun.” Emily smirked.

Dapper looked up at her, “Ray Gun?” He asked.

Emily chuckled, “You know. Dapper and Zapper. Zapper is a ray gun, like in the sci-fi movies,” She glanced at him, “It’s okay, Steve; you got somethin’ for me?”

Mr. Dapper smiled and reached into his leather pouch and brought out a check which he brandished with a flourish, “For you, ma’am.” He grinned.

“Thanks,” Emily murmured, taking the check, “But don’t call me ma’am.”

“We’ve made it out as per your request, all certified and everything’s ready to go.”

“Good work, Stevie D. Nice doin’ business with ya’” They shook hands and the energetic fellow bustled off. Emily looked at the check; eighteen million dollars. She snorted.

Melanie came up to her then, “Wow, still can’t believe it’s all going.” She said quietly.

Emily snorted again, “Well, are you going to say it or am I?”

“Say what?” Melanie asked.

Emily looked at her, “Well, the circus has left town, of course…” Emily actually giggled, then handed Melanie the check, which she had requested be made payable to her.

“It’s not really the circus, Em, it’s just the clowns. What’s this?” Melanie asked, staring at the thing.

“That, my dear, is for you.”

“But, um, Em, this is…”

“Eighteen million, I know. And it’s yours.”

“But I can’t take this…”

“Why? Why the Hell not?”

“Emily.”

“Look, you’ve earned it; take it, do what you want with it, go wherever you want…”

****

Glendale, California, 1999

It had been a month since Melanie had moved in, and she and Emily had bonded. Since the little girl had, surprisingly, few toys, Melanie had used part of the meager allowance Hawkins provided to buy a few, and Emily was now sitting on the carpet in her room engrossed in a conversation between two of her new dolls.

Looking up, Emily blurted out a question, “Auntie Mel, did you like my mommy?”

Melanie still got a little choked up whenever Emily talked of her mother. “I, um, never met your mommy, Em. But I know she was very pretty and very nice. I’m sure we would have been friends, little one.”

“My mommy would read me stories,” Emily said quietly.

“I bet you liked that, hey? I could read you some stories, I don’t know why I haven’t. Where are your books.”

Emily walked her two dolls along, like they were going somewhere, “My daddy put them in a box,” Emily said, matter-of-factly.

“Well, I’ll find them, Emily. Or I’ll look anyway. And if we can’t find ‘em, Auntie Mel will get you some more.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Emily put her dolls down and climbed up on Melanie, laying her face against the woman’s shoulder. She stayed like that, then asked quietly, “When is my mommy coming back?”

Melanie felt the tears and the emotion, but she pushed them down; it wouldn’t help her niece. “Oh, I’m not sure, little one. Don’t think about that, ok. Let’s just have a hug,” which they did.

As they were hugging, Emily spoke into the ear her face was beside, “Are you going to leave me, Auntie Mel?”

Melanie clasped the little girl to her in a mighty hug, until Emily said in a little voice, “I can’t breathe, Auntie Mel,” and Melanie released her and Emily looked at her aunt. “Why are you crying, Auntie Mel?” she asked innocently.

Melanie hugged the girl again, less forcefully this time, “You can have tears of joy, Em. That’s what this is, ‘cause I love you so much. And listen…” Melanie held Emily by her shoulders so she could look right into the lovely, little face, “Listen to me. This is a promise. I will never, never, never leave you. I promise with all my heart.”

Emily smiled, showing the gap where she had lost her first tooth just this month. She held up a little hand, “Pinky swear, Auntie Mel?”

They hooked pinkies and Melanie laughed, a few tears still exuding reluctantly from her eyes.”

****

Melanie looked at her niece, more like a sister really. “I’m not going anywhere, Em. You know that. I promised you that a long time ago. You’re stuck with me, kid.”

Emily looked at the only person who ever really mattered to her, then quickly looked away as tears stung her eyes. She said quietly, “I know, I remember. I was playing with my dolls…” Melanie took a step forward and the two women embraced, both crying.

After a few moments, Emily whispered into Melanie’s ear. “But, you should still have some fun with your money, Mel.”

“Yeah sure, but we’ll think about that later.”

There was a pause. Emily took a step back, the smirk returning to her lovely face. “I was thinking, you know, that you could hire some like Chippendale dancers, that would be fun.” The smirk grew into a grin. “With all that green you’ve got, you could be stuffin’ cash down their shorts with both hands…” Emily laughed out loud.

Melanie looked at her niece and was about to say something, but in the end, only a single word, as she shook her head gently.

“Emily.”

“That’s me, Kid.”

A Gathering of Clowns By LongDarkRoad

The End

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A Gathering of Clowns by LongDarkRoad Chapter 20 And With The Rising Of The Curtain The Final Act Begins

A Gathering of Clowns

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 20 And With The Rising Of The Curtain, The Final Act Begins 

A Gathering of Clowns

it’s a three-ring world and all the while,

we’re the ones to make you smile;

so grab a grin and come on down;

it’s a gathering of clowns.

****

Another early June morning, only now it was 2016.

Tad Allan was crouching behind the largest tree in the back area of the Hawkins’s home; really the only place of concealment. He was thinking back on the conversations and the decision; Emily, or ‘the bitch’ as he was now thinking of her, offering him an escape from the debt load he was dying under.

Borrowing money from those guys at the strip club was a bad, bad idea; he knew they would carry out their threat of cutting off fingers if he didn’t do something about the money he owed them; on top of the money he owed ‘the bitch’; though at least the six grand she gave him bought some time.

The bottom line was that all of that would go away with one little act; one swift, decisive plunge of a needle. And he, of course, was very familiar with needles.

At this moment; however, he was feeling so agitated and nervous that he expected to puke any second. He jumped as his cell buzzed. It was the bitch, with the message that her father was just heading outside.

After sending the text, Emily left; climbed into her Camaro, put on her shades and roared off, leaving her cousin to his task; in a few minutes she would be on the freeway, with her car stereo blasting out Sharon Van Etten’s You Know Me Well.

****

Before heading into work, Carman, with last night’s late call from Emily in her mind, decided to pay a surprise visit to Raisha Douak. Carman learned one lesson, people like Raisha are not at their best first thing in the morning. But she was able to discover something interesting; Tad was already up and gone, and he was meeting Emily or doing something for her this morning.

“The guy was up at fucking five o’clock, sorry; anyway, he was out of here twenty minutes ago and whatever he was doing he wasn’t talking, but I know he got a text message, and that phone he used is strictly for the lady. When he was in the can I looked at the messages.”

“And?” Carman asked.

“Nothing, like, specific; just said get over here now.”

“And it was from Emily, er, the lady as you call her?”

“She gave him that phone to use with her only. So, yeah, it was her.”

Carman nodded and left. What on earth could he be doing this morning for Emily, at her place. She called Ivy and told her she wouldn’t be in until later. She needed to check this out. But when she got to the house, Emily’s car was already gone.

Strange. And where was Tad?

Carman sat in her car for a few minutes, and then made a decision. Five minutes later she was in the house and heading up to Emily’s room, having giving Chantico a convincing story. The girl was easy to please and wasn’t going to question someone like Carman. Feeling guilty and excited, Carman entered Emily’s room and was delighted to see her laptop just sitting there.

She took out her notebook as she started the device, then entered the password she had written down from watching Emily one night. It worked and she was in. This was good; it would be necessary for moving the money, but it wasn’t quite time for that just yet.

What Carman was interested in was Emily’s browsing history and she was not surprised to find that the girl had deleted nothing. Of special interest, and what froze Carman before the screen, was the browsing of drugs that mimicked a heart attack. She called Emily, but the call went to message.

****

Tad, heart beating furiously, maintained his crouch behind the tree as Hawkins came from the house and wandered over to sit on the series of steps that were like a little set of bleachers. To Tad’s mind, the man looked thin and old, and he was looking off into the distance at something.

Chantico now came into view, walking over to her boss. She did her thing, and in a few moments his injection was complete and then Hawkins just sat as Chantico went back inside; he hadn’t even put his jacket back on; it was a warm day. Tad waited.

****

Carman then went down to the kitchen and saw Chantico, who had just come in from the back. Their brief conversation revealed what Chantico had just been doing, that Mr. Hawkins was in the back; no, she hadn’t seen Tad Allan; she didn’t know where Emily was and that was odd, her being gone this early in the morning; and finally that Ms. Da Costa could look out at Mr. Hawkins, if she wanted to.

Chantico then led the way to a hallway and showed Carman the back stairs.

****

Finally, summoning his nerve, telling himself it would only take a moment and then he could be free, Tad moved with stealth as he came up from Hawkins’s left. When the man, deep in thought over something, became aware of him, moving his head slightly to look, there was only a moment of surprise before Tad plunged his hypodermic into Hawkins’s left arm. The solution, whatever it was Emily had given him, acted rapidly.

The look of surprise on Hawkins’s face changed to fear, and then the man clutched at his heart and then his throat, and then just wildly in the air, clawing at nothing. Tad looked away, unable to watch this grotesque pantomime.

Hawkins then collapsed to his knees; the look on his face now a combination of fear and also bewilderment. Then he began to fall, almost in slow motion, down the series of small steps, his body jarring with each one, his blond hair jouncing with each jolt, until finally coming to rest at the bottom, in an obscene tangle of long arms and legs, with a face whose eyes lay open and staring at the clown fountain. Emily would have found that an amusing touch.

****

Carman stood, frozen, unable for a moment to comprehend what she had just witnessed. Coming to her senses, she hurried back down the stairs, to the hallway by the room that Emily used for her ‘fun’ and then around the wall and into the kitchen, where Chantico was preparing a meal.

Fighting to appear and act ‘normal’, Carman asked how one got out to the back area. “This way,” the girl smiled, and led Carman to the other side of the kitchen  and behind this wall was another hallway which one could only see when you were here. She pointed to a solid and imposing door; “That leads out,” she said.

“So, that is how, um, Mr. Hawkins comes and goes?” Carman asked; for some reason this seemed odd.

“Oh no, Miss; on the other side of that wall is Mr. Hawkins’s elevator. There is another door outside; this one and that one.” She smiled again.

Carman was confused for a moment. “But I thought Mr. Hawkins could walk directly from his car to the elevator?”

Chantico smiled again, “He can, Miss. The back area is completely fenced; you can only get to it through this door or the elevator door. But there is another door, on the other side of the fence, that opens to the elevator as well. Mr. Hawkins did not want to, um, run around much, I guess. It seems like too many doors for me.”

Carman thanked her and headed out the front. She needed to get away from here. How Tad got in and out was not her concern, probably jumped the high fence; but Carman was now in danger. She was on site, and when they found Hawkins’s body, she could be suspected. But with the entry to the back area restricted, Chantico would be her alibi.

She had never gone out that door, or any of the ‘too-many-doors’.

****

Tad waited and then looked around in fear, but he was alone, at least no one was near him. He didn’t want to look at Hawkins, but finally he moved over to the body. The face was white, the lips blue. Tad felt for a pulse and found none.

He put the syringe in his pocket and then bolted, moving quickly up and over the fence and then down the alleyway, for a block, two blocks, just running madly until finally stopping behind a fence, where he fell to his knees and began vomiting.

He rested there, kneeling, desperately trying to regain composure while fighting the urge to scream. He had murdered someone! Panic seized him for a moment and he fought madly to control his breathing.

It seemed to take forever, but when he had regained control, Tad took out his cell and sent the message that should free him.

He had done his awful part.

****

Emily Hawkins was on Ventura Highway, not going anywhere, just driving, her top down and her blond hair blowing wildly, waiting for news. She was amazingly calm.

As she drove, she heard her cell buzz and looked down, as it was sitting on the passenger’s seat. The message was simple: “It’s done,” was all it said, but Emily let out a shout, and then pressed down the accelerator, blasting along the freeway. Holy Fuck!!

After a few moments she exited, and when she had slowed to a more reasonable speed, she sent Tad the address of the place she had found for him. She’d give him a while to get there and then follow up.

Right now, she placed a call to Ryland Ross, and pressured him into contacting the doctor Hawkins had used all those years ago, to sign the death certificate for Sarah. The man, now in his late-fifties, was still practising; Emily had already confirmed that. Whatever Hawkins had leveraged him with back then was still of use, and Ross would do what Emily wanted and the Alex Vargas information would go away.

“But why is this necessary, Ms. Hawkins. And why will he need to go to your house?” Ross asked this with a sense of foreboding.

“You’ll know soon enough, Ross-o; just get on it.”

****

Tad was now sitting on a cement block in an alley five or six blocks from the Hawkins’s residence. He had vomited again, even though there was nothing left, and now he felt like he might pass out. Having sent out his message to ‘the bitch’, he had waited, and now came the reply; an address. He’d need to take a cab.

Twenty minutes later, Tad paid the fare and looked around the unpleasant part of town he had been sent to; he followed the directions on his cell and five minutes later was reaching under a fence and finding a key, then unlocking a graffiti-covered door and heading down the stairs to a dingy apartment. Turning on the light, he looked around at the sparsely furnished room and then noticed what was on the coffee table: a syringe, a packet of powder and a note. The note said, “Thank You.”

“Fuck you,” he said with feeling, pulling the strap out of his pants pocket and binding his arm.

In a few moments, as he lay against a wall, the drug hit him and he smiled and closed his eyes. After a few more minutes, however, an odd feeling overcame him; something he had not felt before. He tried to stand but was unable. He thought he might be sick again, but nothing happened, just a slow wave of darkness that seemed to rise and overtake him.

He felt very tired now, and needed to close his eyes. He needed to sleep, just for a minute. Sleep. But then his breathing became rapid, and he hyperventilated briefly and then it slowed again.

It then slowed even more. Finally, it stopped, as Tad’s eyes opened slightly, and he stared unseeing at this cold, stark room, his final space.

****  

Carman made one stop on her way back to the office; back to Raisha’s. She wanted to see if Tad returned there. After waiting out front for a while, she went to the door and knocked, with Raisha coming again to answer.

In response to her query, Raisha surprisingly answered that Tad wouldn’t be returning. “Emily found him a place, a few miles from here. It’s a dump, but he doesn’t plan to be there long.”

Carman looked for a long minute at this young woman, before saying, “We need to talk.”

****

Emily parked her car, convertible top up, on the street in front of a restaurant; it was a little less sketchy than the alley she now headed for. A couple of buildings down the alley she went through the broken gate, then the nasty-looking door, down the stairs and to the rooms she’d rented for Tad; or at least, had Raisha rent on her instructions.

Entering cautiously, Emily quickly surveyed the dimly lit and sketchy room. Tad was slumped against a wall, the needle still in his arm. Emily looked at him; what did she feel? A little nausea, maybe? Certainly no guilt, at least not at the moment. She picked up the empty drug packet, then reconsidered and placed it back down, but took the note she had left. She glanced around until she spied Tad’s cell. Picking this up, she stood; and with one last look at her cousin, left, leaving the lights on.

She would let someone else discover him.

After leaving the place, Emily walked back up the alley and around to the front. Walking down the street, she removed the cell’s SIM and dropped it into one garbage bin. She bent the cell phone as much as she could, and then dropped it into the next bin.

Turning down another street she picked up her pace and soon was at her car. Then in a few minutes, she was again speeding along the road, heading for the ramp onto Ventura Blvd.

She had done it. Or, at least, it was done. She felt exhilaration.

****

At Adams Hill, Chantico had been alarmed to see Mr. Hawkins lying strangely on the ground when she went out for a break. She had tried to rouse him, but then realized it was very serious and ran in to retrieve Melanie. In a few minutes an ambulance was heading their way.

And a little while later, the paramedics arrived, surprised to find a coroner already there and heading in with them. “I was close by,” he answered their questions. Soon he was informing Melanie that Stafford Hawkins was dead, and it looked like a heart attack.

Although alarmed greatly, Melanie was not grieved and she was able to sit with her cell and contact Documart, informing Drew, Ross and Da Costa of the news.

For some reason, Melanie was unable to reach Emily.

****

Ryland Ross put down the phone and sat staring off at the news that the body of Stafford Hawkins had been found. So that was it, damn. How’d she do it, he wondered? Damn. Damn. Damn.

Ross then felt a wave of both nausea and sadness rise within him. Hawkins was not a loveable, even a likable man, but Ross’s relationship with him had been lengthy and very rewarding, in several ways. Ross might in fact be the only person involved who at that moment felt sadness of any kind. He was also alarmed. He called Emily.

Still later, he would also be surprised when Hawkins’s will was opened, showing that it had recently been changed, leaving Hawkins’s Documart shares to Ross. Did Emily know that? Did she set him up?

Drew Downing heard the news, thanked Melanie and asked how she felt, then sat, his mind in a whirl. What did this mean? What would this mean? Had Hawkins left a will? Had it included anything for his sisters? What would happen to the company?

Carman received the call, having just made it back to her desk. She immediately called Folake and passed it along, giving her all the information she had in fact. Damn.

Considering for a moment, she proceeded downstairs and then to the building next door; one of the few that still had pay phones on the wall.

She called the police from one.

****

Emily felt she had covered her bases and her ass. Her father’s body was on the way to the funeral home; whatever Ross and her father had on the coroner, it was for sure good stuff.

****

The anonymous tip that the police received had sent Detective Grant Hardwicke to Raisha Douak’s place, where they found ample evidence that one Tad Allan had been staying there; he was Emily Hawkins’s cousin and Emily was connected to the residents. The two women, without a lot of pressure, caved in and began ‘singing like canaries’, to reference an old crime theme. The twenty thousand in cash that Raisha had received from Da Costa, meant that she at least was singing a certain tune.

And that tune directed the police in the direction of one person. Raisha explained how Emily Hawkins had hired her to befriend Tad Allan. How she had supplied drugs to him. How Emily had sent Tad on an errand today, and where Tad could be found now.

The police discovered his body shortly afterwards, and although it looked like an apparent suicide, Raisha’s testimony made Hardwicke consider everything in a certain, different light.

Hardwicke’s partner looked at him across the desk. “You are seriously going to pursue this?” He asked.

“Damnit, Jay, look at what these girls are sayin’. It looks like Hawkins set this whole thing up. With her father dead she’s worth millions. That’s motive in my mind.“

“You gonna’ arrest her?”

Hardwicke tapped his pen on his desk. “I’m waitin’ om the lab results from the Allan guy. I’d start with that, and then look at her old man. We’ll see.”

“You know she’s going to have a hot shot lawyer, if you go where I think you’re goin’?” Jay Crandell noted.

Hardwicke smoothed his moustache; he had definitely thought of that. “Yeah, I’m aware of that. Big deal. Lots of people have pricey lawyers. She’s young; we get her in the cells she’ll crack. She’s one of them privileged twats. She won’t want to spend an hour here. She won’t be hard to break, trust me.”

Crandell regarded the senior detective; it wasn’t his place to question him. “So, you goin’ tonight or what?”

“No, I should have all I need by tomorrow.”

****

The discussions about funeral arrangements and services had ended; Emily had not informed anyone that in a few hours Stafford Hawkins would be just ashes. They would find out when necessary.

She sat now alone in the darkened living room; everyone else having finally wandered off to bed. She was sitting and drinking Tequila; she sucked a lime slice and tossed it toward the garbage can. It bounced on the carpet and lay there. “That’s for you, Daddy-kins.” She murmured.

Her cell buzzed; it was Ross. “Yes?” she whispered.

“Ok, it’s set. The body will be cremated tomorrow, early. I stalled the police order to hold the body for autopsy; it won’t be heard until after ten; by then, your father will be, um, ashes.”

Emily nodded her head. “Ok, we’ll have a swap. You get me the urn and I’ll give you the notes on Vargas. They are not easy to find, unless you know where to look. Your secret will be safe.” She said softly.

Ross stood for a moment in thought. “They might still arrest you, Emily.” He said quietly. Emily did not react; that seemed unlikely. Ross continued, “They found Tad Allan’s body. Did anyone tell you?”

Emily weighed her options while considering her response; she hadn’t heard this. It was quicker than she expected. “Where?”

“Some dump; I’m not sure. Were you involved? I’d like to help you but I need all the facts.”

“Thanks,” she said quietly, “I’ll get back to you tomorrow.” The call ended. She poured herself another shot and licked the salt. She closed her eyes. “This one’s for you, mom.” She said, and downed the glass.

****

Two officers and Detective Hardwicke arrived at the house in Adams Hill just after eleven; the lab results on Tad Allan indicating he died of an overdose. Hardwicke had a statement from Brianna saying that Emily (the blond woman as she called her, but firm on the photo) would prepare the drug packets for them to give to Tad. Raisha, on the other hand, now refused to talk to anyone this morning; Hardwicke would deal with her later. He wished he knew where the anonymous tip had come from.

Once inside the house and after informing Emily of her rights, and that they would be back to search the premises when the warrant arrived (something was holding it up) Emily was placed in hand-cuffs.

The streets outside the home were quiet; no word had gotten out yet of this development. The police led Emily out the front door, her hands behind her; but already waiting for them was Drayton Holding, regarded as one of the top defense lawyers in California. He’d had a call early this morning, plus ten thousand as a retainer.

He was already deep in conversation with Emily even as they made their way to a waiting patrol car. After a moment to load the young woman in, the vehicle pulled out, heading for the county cells. Holding confronted Hardwicke, “I would be very careful with how you handle this, Detective,” he said bluntly.

“Yeah, sure. Thanks councillor; you’re welcome to tag along.” He climbed into his car and headed after the other vehicle.

Carman, waiting and watching from down the block, sat in silence, fighting emotions. A few minutes later a taxi pulled up and Melanie climbed in and drove away. Carman then made her way to the door and entered.

She went to the kitchen and found Chantico, weeping. Carman talked with her and consoled her and then went upstairs to Emily’s room, the housekeeper not concerned about her actions.

Carman opened Emily’s laptop and then put in the password she had used and hoped had not been changed. Emily did not seem the type to worry about passwords and that proved true; in a moment Carman was once again into the device and googling the first of the bank accounts. Working efficiently and steadily, in twenty minutes she was finished.

She called Folake, and when the melodious voice answered, Carman simply said, “The money has all been transferred from my end. You are good?”

“Okay, I am good. You wish to proceed as we discussed?” Carman hesitated for a moment but then confirmed the plans. Folake now paused, then asked, “How are you doing?”

For a moment, Carman could not answer; she swallowed hard then was at least able to say, “Okay.” Then she ended the call and sat, sadness welling up within her.

She had timed things well; thirty minutes after she left the police arrived and searched as they warned, and they confiscated both Emily’s cell phones and her laptop, with certain files recently erased.

Half an hour later Carman was at her office, gathering up a few things which she put then into her briefcase. She stood for a moment and looked around the office. Nothing left here was hers; not the art on the walls or the equipment or the odds and ends on her desk and cupboard. She had removed everything that was personal.

The office was deserted today out of respect for Stafford Hawkins, so Carman did not have to face anyone as she left. She did notice that Ross was in his office, but she had no plans to see him; heading downstairs and to her car; then driving off.

(End of Chapter 20)

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A Gathering of Clowns by LongDarkRoad Chapter 19 We Cry That We Are Come To This Great Stage of Fools

A Gathering of Clowns By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 19

We Cry That We Are Come To This Great Stage Of Fools 

Riverside, California, Spring 1986

Shy, attractive, fourteen-year-old Sarah Donnelly is at home on a rare occasion; she is alone, her mother having gone out to a meeting of some sort.

Sarah is enjoying this, drinking coke and eating chips and watching The Love Boat and any other stuff she gets to choose (rare occurrence). She is relaxed and dozes off on the couch.

When she awakens, after a disturbing dream, it takes her a moment to realize her hands are bound. With a rising sense of panic, she realizes someone is in the room with her, but she is unable to make much noise as her assailant has just finished wrapping a scarf around her mouth as she stirs.

The man suddenly looms over her, wearing a ski mask and smelling of sweat and cigarettes. His pants are down and his erection is standing out in a threatening way to a girl who has never seen a penis of any sort, except in diagrams.

Grabbing Sarah roughly by her blond hair, the man flips her over so she is face down on the couch and with her knees on the ground. He then literally tears her clothes off.

The attacker rapes Sarah, a virgin, repeatedly over the next two hours, including anally, before viciously punching her unconscious and leaving her bleeding in a heap on the floor, where her mother finds her an hour later.

It will take months for Sarah to recover physically, but much longer emotionally and mentally. At age sixteen she is placed in a psychiatric facility, where she will spend several months undergoing treatment. It will be years before the dark dreams finally dissipate.

At age nineteen Sarah Donnelly, amazingly, emerges into the world, completes a diploma program in marketing at U. of California, Riverside and takes her first job with a growing and aggressive young company in Glendale, California, a company that would one day become Documart.

And within a couple of months, Sarah Donnelly would meet Stafford Hawkins (the shy, eccentric owner and creative head of the company) one afternoon in the main floor restaurant, and feel a strange kinship. Perhaps it was simply loneliness.

****

Riverside, California Spring 1993

“So you have considered my, proposal,” Stafford Hawkins asked of Natasha Donnelly as they sat in the modest but pleasant sitting room of her home. Sarah, Natasha’s daughter, had gone to work just three months earlier at Hawkins’s new company, as part of the marketing team. She had done very well, all things (especially her past and health issues) considered. More than well, really, as she had caught the eye of the young, millionaire entrepreneur owner of the firm, who was arrived here today, and now sat talking. Even though Sarah was an adult, she left many decisions up to her mother.

Hawkins continued, “I know Sarah is greatly influenced by your counsel, and would follow your advice. I will provide and care for her, and of course…love her. She will want for nothing and will be safe. And of course, I will provide the medical care you, personally, need, clearing away your debts in the process. The doctors say with treatment you have an excellent chance of full recovery and I do not see how you will receive that care without the…funds.”

Hawkins sat quietly now. Natasha Donnelly’s mind was awhirl. She wished she knew more about this odd, young man. Sarah seemed to feel positive about him and considering what she had been through, the fact she was even considering being near a man was incredible.

And what would Natasha do without this support he was offering? She had exhausted all her other options; her bank account was in arrears; her home mortgaged to the maximum, debt collectors had begun showing up right at her house to harass her, and she still needed at least six to eight months more of treatments; and that was if they were successful.

She would talk with Sarah; she would counsel her to accept this man’s offer of marriage; despite a nagging doubt lying at the back of her awareness.

****

Glendale, California Summer 1993

It had been a week since the marriage, and Hawkins had made no move to consummate the nuptials. Sarah for her part had mixed feelings; on the one hand, she wanted her and her husband to be together; while they had separate rooms in the/his large house, they certainly could at least lie together.

But that of course was the other side of her coin; she had been with no one, man or woman, since her brutal assault. She wanted to experience consensual sex; she wanted to experience sex with a man differently than the only way she had known it; violently, and Stafford was so shy about this that Sarah actually felt at ease.

Finally tonight they were together in a room with only the light from the moon allowed in, leaving them to seek each other in shadow. Hawkins was clumsy and hesitant, but in time both were naked and then in a rush, Hawkins was inside her; taking her by surprise and causing her momentary panic.

It passed quickly; however, as Hawkins lasted barely thirty seconds before shuddering and crying out, then withdrawing in haste, apologizing and actually weeping with some unnamed shame. The two lay together for perhaps five minutes, then Hawkins withdrew. It would be the only time in their marriage that they would lie together, at all, or have physical contact of any kind. If Sarah had been worried about meeting a man’s sexual desires, she needn’t have worried with Hawkins; he had none, apparently.

But that one time had been enough, in one way. A month after the brief event, Sarah noted her period was late; a month after that it was evident that she was pregnant. Seven months after that, in a labor that was very difficult and exhausting, a baby, Emily Natasha Hawkins, emerged.

The birth trauma would prove costly, though, as the doctors informed Sarah she would not be able to conceive again. But this amazing baby made it worthwhile. From the moment Sarah laid eyes on her, she fell in love with the beautiful and precious child.

For the rest of her short life, Emily would be the reason for Sarah to get up each day and deal with an increasingly erratic and hostile husband; and it seemed the more she came to love and cherish her daughter, the more distant and unpleasant became her relationship with Stafford Hawkins.

****

Glendale, California 1997

Sarah stood looking in amazement at the first rose, her rose, a red Intuition that had opened on her first bush. Earlier in the year she had gone to Stafford with the idea that she would like to turn the back area of their yard into something more; something for her. The front area was landscaped neatly and maintained by a local company, but the back was mainly patchy grass and a few trees. Since no room in the house looked out on it, it had become a forgotten space.

Sarah had become interested in roses and asked her husband for some money, a few thousand, to get a garden started. She was startled and pleasantly surprised to find seventy thousand dollars show up in her personal account; well, she could certainly do something with that!

She had a landscaper come in and remove a u-shaped section of grass approximately eight feet across around the edge of the property against the fence. She had then filled this area in with quality top soil, planting four rose bushes to start.

Now, seeing her first flower actually appear, filled her with wonder; she now had something, besides young Emily who was currently playing on the grass by her feet, to interest her. Something living.

****

Glendale, California (Fall) 1998

By the summer of this year, Sarah’s rose bush ‘hobby’ had grown, no pun intended, to where she needed to hire some help. Stafford was happy to throw money her way if it kept her out of his blond hair, and she had enough in her account to hire someone to put in one day a week just to keep things under control. Her house staff, the Bennetts, had heard from a friend about a young man, excellent with roses, who worked part time at a home only a couple of blocks away, and he was dropping by today to check things out.

****

Glendale, California December 1998

Alex Vargas came up the front walk but before he could ring the doorbell, Sarah had answered the door and let him in. Mrs. Bennett was bathing Emily and would put her to bed, then alert Sarah. Mr. Bennett was watching television in their room, and by watching that usually meant sleeping. Stafford Hawkins was in New York for a meeting of some kind, so the coast was clear and Sarah was determined.

The two young people moved quietly up the stairs, down the carpeted hallway and into Sarah’s room. Sarah put some music on as background and poured some wine; they sat and drank the wine and talked in whispers. As it turned out, they had many common interests: old-time westerns, Vivaldi, American history. The quiet conversation continued until a gentle rap on the door followed by Mrs. Bennett’s announcement, sent Sarah off to kiss Emily goodnight.

Upon her return, Sarah dimmed the lights and led Alex to her bed. They took their time, undressing each other slowly, enjoying the moment as each article of clothing came off until they lay naked and entwined.

The doctor’s had assured Sarah there was no chance of her conceiving, and she accepted Alex’s hard brown erection into her with surprising desire, the two bodies moving carefully and slowly, and making no sounds. The horror of her assault all those years ago finally faded away in that wonderful and amazing moment.

Two hours later, Sarah led Alex as they tiptoed down to the front hall, soundlessly opened the door, kissed warmly and said goodnight.

It would become a relationship that would be rekindled at least twice a week as the year slipped into 1999 and then into the spring; the happiest time in Sarah’s life.

****

Glendale, California late April, 1999

Stafford Hawkins had planned this out. He would leave, drive down the block a little way, then come back quietly. The housekeeper would have Emily off to the park, and the lazy husband of hers would be dozing up on the third floor, pretending to clean.

Then Hawkins would be able to watch what his wife was up to, although the bile he tasted would undoubtedly hold true; still, he needed to know, for sure.

He now slipped quietly in through the side door and made his way to what were called the back stairs; then he waited. As he watched through the small window, the young gardener came into view, fussing with his roses. Those fucking rose bushes! If Hawkins had his way they would be gone; bull-dozed to nothing. The gardener seemed to simply be poking around, almost as if he were just biding his time.

He’s waiting, Hawkins told himself, a sliver of ice stabbing his insides; it was doubtful if he was capable of true love, but Hawkins was still an intensely jealous person.

But if Hawkins had felt a sliver a moment ago, he now felt a ripping gash, as his wife Sarah came into view from the left, going to the gardener and gently touching the man’s brown arm. Hawkins could not see his young wife’s face, but he could see the gardener’s; it broke into a wide and warm smile. Both individuals looked around quickly and then headed off to the right of Hawkins’s view and out of his sight.

Hawkins sat frozen on the stairs. His anger was coursing through him, bitter lava through a volcano, but he maintained control; rushing out like a maniac was not the answer. He quietly exited the side door and made his way around the front of his large house, coming up along the side that was fenced off, but would still allow him to get close to where the two had likely disappeared. The heavy fence boards nailed close together provided privacy, but sound would still travel over them.

Crouching behind the fence and slumped against the wall, Hawkins could hear voices, but they were low, a man and a woman, and he could not really make out any words. But in a few minutes he heard the sounds that he remembered all too well from his youth; the unmistakeable sounds of love-making, the slap/slap of skin on skin and the moans and grunts of exertion.

The muffled cries of passion were definitely his wife’s. Hawkins made fists of his hands and brought them to his face to stop him from screaming out. Finally, unable to stand any more, he quietly retreated, and walked back to his vehicle, then drove in a rage to his office, where he spent the afternoon in planning. This would not go unpunished.

****

Glendale, California, May 1999

Hawkins knocked on Sarah’s door and waited a few seconds, then entered to find her seated before her dresser mirror, a brush in one hand and a startled look on her face.

“Yes?” she asked, looking wary.

“Good evening, my dear. Please pardon the interruption.” Hawkins stood, working hard to control his emotions, wanting retribution but on his terms. He knew his intentions; this part, this face-to-face, in many ways was unnecessary; but he could not deny himself. Hawkins needed to confront this woman; his wife.

“Well, what would you like Stafford?” Unsure why, Sarah felt a growing sense of alarm. As time had passed, Hawkins’s eccentricities had evolved from slightly endearing to concerning, to disturbing, to threatening;  the man standing before her now was frightening.

“So, my dear, just wondering, how your roses are doing?” Hawkins stood, asking a simple question; but his face and his manner said something else. It was as if he were an actor and this was a role.

“My roses? What interest have you in my roses?” Sarah replied, quietly.

“Well, I have given you the money to, um, start your hobby and now maintain it.“ He said, his high voice rising slightly in volume. “I believe I can ask of its status, if that’s not too much trouble,” he added.

Sarah put her brush down and regarded him as calmly as she could. “My roses bring me pleasure; thank you for helping with that. I have five varieties now and some delightful, well, specimens.” All this was true; she now sat, waiting, having given him an answer and not wishing to talk with him more than necessary.

“And you have enough, help, to deal with your project,” he asked, advancing a step? Sarah, being seated, had no retreat, yet inwardly she withdrew a pace, Hawkins’s manner becoming more alarming.

“I, uh, I have a part-time gardener, which I guess is what you are referring to. He now works two days a week.” Her breathing was increasing, despite her efforts at control. The mention of Vargas alarmed her greatly.

“Your gardener, he has been helpful, his two days sufficient for your…needs?” Hawkins asked.

“Y-yes, Mr. Vargas is very knowledgeable about roses; he has won awards, or helped his patrons with contests. He is skillful…” she said.

Hawkins stood for a minute, staring, his face white, one fist now clenched. “I am certain he is skillful, my dear.” Hawkins stated, and Sarah looked away, his face was hurting her. “I’m also sure that he can be of comfort to you during those hours you spend together,” he added, his voice now louder. In her room Ivy Bennett heard the rising voice and nodded. She had wondered when Hawkins would tumble to the reality.

“What are you saying, Stafford?” Sarah replied, her voice rising now as well.

“I’m saying, my dear, that your gardener gives you more comfort than just with roses, yes?”

“What are you implying?” Her voice stopped, choked off with emotion and fear.

“I must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words,” Hawkins shouted quoting, oddly, Shakespeare.

Sarah did not reply, simply sat staring in fear; Hawkins stood glaring, then turned and stormed out, afraid he would strike out and ruin his plans. When he left, Sarah buried her face in her hands and wept. What would she do now?

Two hours later, Hawkins lingered in the second floor hallway, waiting for the housekeeper, what the devil was her name? Benson? No. Barnett? No. Bennett? Yes, damn it, Mrs. Bennett, he declared to himself as he saw the woman come to the top of the stairs and begin to make her way to her mistress’s room, carrying the tray and her evening warm milk.

“Oh I say, Mrs., er, Bennett,” Hawkins declared, stepping out, “let me assist you.”

Bennett looked up with alarm; she found Hawkins alarming generally and here he was, appearing suddenly out of nowhere.

“Oh, um, good evenin’ Sir, You startled me, you did, Sir.”

“Yes, yes, quite so, my good lady, But, let me relieve you of this; I will take it to my wife. We have had a, em, disagreement, and I wish to say good night more, um, pleasantly.” He smiled down at her, but even his smile was alarming.

“As you will Sir, thank you I’m sure,” Mrs. Bennett murmured uncertainly as Hawkins took the tray and headed off. She watched for a minute in wonder, and then turned and left. Pausing before his wife’s door, Hawkins balanced the tray and removed a packet from his jacket pocket, emptying its contents into the warm milk and stirring. He then knocked gently and entered.

Sarah was startled but Hawkins was apologetic, saying good night graciously and leaving the tray. Sarah watched his retreating form, wondering, then drank her milk, deep in thought. She needed to get away and Alex had come forward with a plan. She took out his letter again and read it. Then feeling drowsy, she lay her head down. She was quite drowsy, really. The letter slipped from her hand and fell by the bed.

Half an hour later Hawkins returned quietly and looked down at his sleeping wife. He managed with some difficulty to get her under her blankets, then he noted the letter lying on the carpet and picked it up, reading it with growing anger. When he had finished he tore the letter into pieces and let them fall, covering his face with his hands.

Acting quickly so as not to lose his nerve, Hawkins took the syringe out from his jacket and injected its contents into his wife’s neck. Breathing heavily, he then bent down and frantically picked up the pieces of the letter. Then he left, without looking back at the woman who was now dying in her bed.

Half an hour later, as he drove to his plane, he called Ryland Ross, catching him as he was just preparing for bed. The two talked for fifteen minutes. When the call ended, Ross sat down on his bed, deep in thought. He spent a restless night, getting up at five as he could not sleep.

At eight o’clock his ringing of the front bell brought an alarmed-looking Ivy Bennett out. The discussion led to the fact that Mr. Hawkins was gone but yes, Ross could speak with Mrs. Hawkins if, as he said, that would do, since it was urgent.

Ross then followed Bennett upstairs and waited, heart pounding as the woman knocked, entered, then reacted with panic when she could not wake her mistress, allowing Ross to take over.

The egg-headed man, in his most efficient manner, placed a call to the doctor Hawkins controlled (just how Ross didn’t know and didn’t care to know). The doctor arrived, declaring Mrs. Hawkins dead of a heart attack and signing the death certificate. The body was removed and taken immediately to the funeral home, where it was cremated the next morning.

One day later, a keen-eyed reporter spotted Stafford Hawkins leaving the parlor and walking to his waiting limo, and took a photo.

It would be days before Ross would be able to sleep much; weeks really before the memory and the guilt ebbed. He had liked Sarah Hawkins; liked her and felt sorry for her, but the two hundred and fifty thousand dollar bonus deposited into his account eased his conscience slightly. His loyalty did not fail.

In his efficient manner, Ross had the Bennetts relocated to San Francisco with a sizable sum of cash to help their transition; then he brought in a new housekeeper.

Hawkins himself contacted his younger sister, Melanie, who was desperate to get out of the family home, and offered her the job of looking after Emily, which she

readily accepted. He would pay her an allowance and leave the girl’s care completely up to her.

The only fly in the ointment was that the gardener had slipped through their grasp.

Oh well, Ross told himself, we will find him.

****

Glendale, California, May 1999

Stafford Hawkins watched as the cleaners left with two boxes of things; all the stuff his wife had given to his daughter, was being removed. All the toys and books; he would eventually get rid of all her clothes too, but one thing at a time.

He wanted nothing left to remind him.

****

Glendale California June 1999

“Here,” Melanie said, handing Emily a book. She had been disturbed when she arrived to find Emily had so little; it was strange.

Emily looked at it. It was ‘Love You Forever’ by Robert Munsch. She opened it up, “Will you read it to me, Auntie Mel?” she asked, and Melanie agreed. She enjoyed reading, but she had a hard time saying no to Emily about anything anyway.

Twenty minutes later, Melanie tucked Emily in and tried to take the book, but the little girl held fast. “I wanna’ keep it, please.” She protested and Melanie could not say no; she tucked her in and left.

A few minutes later, Emily got up quietly and went to her dresser, opening the top drawer and reaching under some clothes. She pulled out the tiny slip of paper that she had found in her mother’s room. She could not read the words yet, but that didn’t matter, the paper mattered. She would keep it. She put it in the back of her new book, unaware of the irony.

****

Glendale California June 1999

Ryland Ross stood, looking down at the plaque embedded in the well-manicured lawns of the cemetery. It was a tranquil setting, and although he hadn’t known Sarah Hawkins well, he imagined she would approve.

Looking around, as he battled conflicting emotions, he noted the numerous trees gave the area a park-like feel; and he had always liked Mimosa.

But the sense of guilt did not seem to dissipate with the peaceful view. He had not been directly involved in Sarah’s death; he still did not know all the details; he didn’t want to know. But he had to believe it was not above-board; and he had assisted Stafford Hawkins with this whole, distasteful affair, and that was something he would have to live with for all his life. He would do the best he could.

Ross bent down and placed some flowers in the urn.

They were, of course, roses.

(End of Chapter 19)