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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 7 Whereof What’s Past is Prologue

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 07 Whereof What’s Past is Prologue 

Hailey had been brilliant, she thought. She had waited until her mother was planning on working on her laptop in the kitchen and had then positioned her cell phone strategically to record the scene. After three viewings of the recording she made, she had her mom’s password. Now, with her mom in the shower, Hailey powered up the computer, entered the password and, causing a great rush; her mom’s computer opened.

After quickly looking through the directory, it was as she feared; there was mostly boring lawyer stuff on it. The emails were tame (Susan made a practice of deleting anything she didn’t need, and Nicole always communicated by texting) and the search history was thin and boring. Hailey was starting to think this had been a giant waste of time and was going to log off when she happened onto some files.

Most were once again client/lawyer related, but one file caught Hailey’s attention. It was a file labelled, ‘Miss N’. Hmmmm, Hailey pondered clicking on it, what is this all about?


Doukas handed Rosalind a tissue and she wiped her mouth. He reached down and placed a finger under her chin, tilting her face up. The look on that face was a mixture of sadness and rage. Doukas laughed. “That was nice, Rosalind. Clearly, you are not new to the art of pleasing a man. That is very good. Very good. Now however, we have business. Go and open my package.”

She looked at the object and then back to Doukas, “May I please get dressed?”

“No, not yet, you have a lovely body. These tits are wonderful.” He pulled forcefully on one large, dark brown nipple, producing a wince from Rosalind. “I want you like this a while longer. Go open the package.”

“The painting, you mean.” Rosalind muttered as she stood and self-consciously crossed the few paces to where the package sat. She took the newsprint wrapping off carefully and placed the painting on the ground. Then she looked at Doukas with wide eyes. “This can’t be…” She spoke quietly.

“Oh, but it is.” Doukas confirmed.

“It’s a wonderful forgery…”

“It is the real thing. I have already had it authenticated. You will have time to examine it yourself, later, but trust me, it is authentic.”

“But this Metzinger has been lost for…”

“Seventy-three years.” Doukas added. “But, technically it wasn’t lost for that period. I’ve known of its where-a-bouts for almost thirty years.”

She looked at him, with less anger and a touch of admiration. “But, why bring it to me?” She asked.

“Because my dear, as well as sucking my cock, you are going to sell my painting.”


Nicole and Susan were in the cozy little bar just around the corner from their building. It had been an odd thing, coming back to Susan after the trip. Saying goodbye to Meaghan had been easy; Nicole had barely thought of her since. But Susan was different; their relationship was different; but it wasn’t the relationship that had happened between her and Amara; and that changed things.

“So, um, I’m not sure if I need to be Sweet Sue your, um slave, or Ms. Koning your boss or Susan your pal?” Susan began, trying to keep the tone light, all the while feeling anxiety and not knowing why. Nicole was different since her return; the relationship was different, but no one had said anything.

“I’m sorry, Suse,” Nicole said quietly, sipping her Merlot. “I know I’ve been…preoccupied. I know…”

“Can you tell me anything?” Susan reached across the table and stroked Nicole’s hand. “What the Hell happened over there?” She looked across the table at Nicole with concern etched on her face.

Nicole looked up. How much should she divulge? How much would put Susan in a difficult position? Lawyers always liked something called plausible denial, what you don’t know can’t be used against you. But it wasn’t fair to keep Susan totally in the dark; she clearly wasn’t going to accept it. “It’s a long story, Susan. I’ve, um, really struggled with how much to share with you; I don’t want to put you in any sort of a compromised position.” She paused and Susan continued to stare at her.

“Tell me, Nicole. Tell me everything. I mean it. Please, I’m asking you now as a friend. Please.”

Nicole fidgeted with her glass, before beginning in a quiet voice. “I’m involved with some bad people, Susan. I know, I know, we defend murderers and rapists. But that’s a client lawyer relationship; this, this is something else. Something different. And it’s bad.”


Hailey watched the computer screen in a sort of daze. She knew what she was watching; she knew what was happening to the people on the screen, but it made no sense, because it involved her mother. And it involved her in ways that Hailey could not wrap her mind around.

As she had opened the file on Miss N, she had heard the shower stop and knew she didn’t have much time. She put in a thumb drive and downloaded the Miss N file, then shut down the computer and left for her room. She was so disturbed by the tiny bit she saw that she waited until today, when she had at least an hour before her mom got home to watch this. And so she sat and stared; stared at the screen that showed her mother tied naked to a bed; that showed Nicole Martin coming to her mother, naked and squatting over her mother’s face; she watched as her mother sucked and licked Nicole’s pussy until the woman had an orgasm; an apparent excellent

one by the reaction.

What Hailey was watching was a compilation Nicole had put together for her slave to watch at work; just to remind her of what she was and who she belonged to.

As Hailey watched, without realizing it, her hand had ventured between her long, shapely legs and rested on her trimmed vagina, where it stroked and pulled gently on the lips and the clitoris. As she now watched her mother on her knees, face buried between Nicole’s legs, the one thought that burned in her mind was; I wish that was me.


Susan and Nicole sat in silence. It had been a long narrative, and Nicole had left nothing out; well, apart from her emotional reaction to Amara. And all the sex, there was no point in Nicole throwing that at the woman. Susan, for her part, sat stunned; but at least she now understood what had changed.

Susan looked up. “I, um, shit. I wish I could come up with an answer, but I’m glad you told me this. I will help you Nicole. You know I will do all I can.” Susan smiled a small smile. She meant what she said; she didn’t know what she could do, exactly, but she knew she would do anything.

“Thanks Susan. That means…oh, fuck, that means a lot. I, uh, I actually do feel better just getting all that out. It’s been crazy. But thank you, Sweet Sue. I mean that.” Nicole smiled across the table at her and Susan felt a lump rising in her throat.

“Um, I’ve never known the right time to say this, maybe because I never felt it, but, um.” Susan paused and looked into Nicole’s eyes. “I love you Nicole, you know that, right? I’m yours…”

Nicole smiled and looked down. That made her feel good. And bad.


“Is this really necessary, every time?” Rosalind Kane

asked again in a small voice. Louis Doukas rose from his chair and came to stand by her, he lifted her chin and smiled at her, then took one step back and brought his right hand hard across her face, knocking the woman to her knees, where she stayed, looking stunned.

“Yes, it’s necessary. I’m going to make you rich, you stupid cunt, and the expectation is that you serve me. It is more than fair. Now get your fucking clothes off.”

Wiping away tears, Kane again began removing her expensive garments, making a neat pile on the floor. Doukas sat down, and watched her through half-closed eyes, the vision, as always, returning to him.

When he was five, his parents left Greece, in a hurry. Why they packed up in the middle of the night, he didn’t know. Why they traveled to Italy and moved in with the man they did, again he did not know. What he did know was the man was British and Doukas learned to speak English from him; and Italian from the man’s housekeeper, and Greek from his parents. In time he would add Serbian to his list. Nothing more was ever explained to him.

Three years after moving in with ‘Mr. Darren’, his father vanished. Nothing was ever said and Doukas never asked. His mother simply moved from one bed to another.

Then at age ten, Doukas’s life took the next major turn. Again, he didn’t know why things were happening, but one night three men came to their house. Doukas would always remember them as the Angry Man, the Laughing Man, and the Quiet Man. His mother hid Doukas in a closet, but he watched everything from there. He watched the Angry Man punch Mr. Darren, knocking him down. He watched the Laughing Man choke Mr. Darren, and he watched the Quiet Man put an automatic weapon to Darren’s head.

But he watched something else. He watched his attractive mother take off her clothes and get on her knees, his first sight of a naked female body. He also saw a man’s erection for the first time. He saw his

mother take the erection into her mouth.

Again, no one spoke to him of anything when it was over and the men had gone. Mr. Darren and his mother simply looked sad, but every time the three men returned, Doukas was hid in the closet and watched his mother service the Angry Man, while his two compatriots watched; this happened five times; Doukas could remember each time, like five scenes from a movie.

And then one night his mother took him and they fled, ending up in Belgrade. How they got by there, living in a tiny apartment, he wasn’t sure. Again, nothing was ever explained to him.

His mother died one week after he turned thirteen, Doukas coming home to find her slumped in a chair; a bullet hole in her temple. Doukas had then gathered his meagre collection of things and left, to spend the next five years on the street, learning how to survive. Learning how to read people and situations and, most importantly, learning how to get ahead.

But today, as he looked at the now naked Rosalind, standing awkwardly in front of him awaiting his directions, that first time, when he was ten and saw his mother on her knees, came back, as it always did, like it was yesterday.

Like an uninvited guest, the vision returned; and Doukas’s past was his present. And this present concerned Kane’s efforts to broker a deal for his painting; she had had a few days and apparently had found a buyer; but Doukas always enjoyed a little pleasure with his business.


Nicole’s cell buzzed its message. It was a text from Sheffield, in her usual terse manner. “Meet me in the coffee shop downstairs. Now.” It said succinctly.

Nicole found the woman sitting by the windows; a cup of tea before her, which Sheffield finished off as Nicole entered and came to her. There was no chair across from Sheffield so Nicole simply stood and waited. Sheffield turned her grim face toward Nicole and told her that they needed her to look after Tatjana for a few days.

“And where are you off to?” Nicole asked, as a human would.

Sheffield however regarded her with a contemptuous look. “That really is none of your concern, Martin.” She said, her accent as always softening the message just a touch.

Nicole looked down, once again considering how much she would like to hit this woman with a heavy object. “Fine“, she said in an even tone. “Will I need to get her?”

“Well of course, she’s not going to come traipsing down the street by herself, now is she?” Sheffield noted airily, then handed Nicole a piece of paper with an address. With no further comment, Sheffield moved her bulk off the chair and headed out, Nicole watching the departing back with malice.


Hailey joined her mom in the ‘TV’ room. They had laughed about referring to it that way, as they both had televisions in their own rooms, and Hailey watched most of what she wanted on her computer anyway; but the name stuck. Mostly because the sixty inch screen dominated the room, and there really was no other reason to be in there.

“Hello Dear,” Susan greeted her daughter as Hailey flopped down beside her. Once again Susan was reminded of how her daughter had grown and changed into a young woman, when she glanced at her, wearing a tight muscle top and tight, brief shorts. Hailey’s breasts were shapely and visible: it was apparent she was not wearing a bra, the nipples were actually pushing out the thin fabric. The way she was sitting allowed her shorts to ride up into her crotch and the ‘camel toe’ was easily seen, causing Susan some distress. She’s just a few weeks from eighteen, Susan reminded herself, where had the time gone?

Susan rubbed her face and focused on the show that was on, although she hadn’t really been paying attention.

“What are you watching?” Hailey asked.

Susan chuckled and admitted that she didn’t really know, the show was on, she was just sort of looking at it. She didn’t want to reveal to Hailey that what she had been doing was running over Nicole’s situation in her head, as she had done numerous times since their talk.

“Why aren’t you out on a Friday night, kiddo?” Susan asked.

“Kiddo?” Hailey snorted. “Please Mom, although I guess it’s better than Sweetie.” Hailey smiled. “Well, there’s not much happenin’; summer is kind of dead around here, nobody’s hanging, right? Britney has a job and Lindsay is away.” She paused and smiled. “Besides, what’s wrong with you and me just, you know, like this chillin’, Ma,” Hailey made a rapper’s hand sign and laughed, then added, wagging her finger, “I thought parents would kill to talk with their kids?”

Susan now laughed out loud. “Hey, Sweetie, I’m not complaining. I just thought it odd to not be out doing something, but you’re right, people are away.” They sat now, the television making the only noise. Then Susan continued, “Was there something that you…wanted to talk to me about?”

Hailey sat with a little smile on her face, Wouldn’t you be surprised, Mom, she thought, but instead asked if maybe they could drink a glass of wine. Susan looked at her daughter and thought…why not, considering Hailey’s age. She got up, returning in a minute with two wine glasses and a not too dry Pinot Noir.

“Here you go,” she said, handing a glass to her daughter and feeling like this was a new road to travel. “We can be like a couple of gal pals, having some wine and yakking. How’s that?”

Hailey sipped her wine and smiled. “Great, Mom, yakking, hmmmm. Next I’ll be calling you Susan and

we’ll be talking about colleges and stuff.”

Susan laughed, “You’re never calling me Susan.” She said. “And we do need to talk about colleges, and stuff, with your senior year starting in a few days.”

An awkward silence settled over the two, the television droning away behind their stillness. Finally, after drinking half her glass, Hailey plunged in. “Have you ever kissed a girl, Mom?”

The question was not what Susan was expecting and it caught her off guard. This was one of those moments; lie to her daughter or be truthful and face the fallout? Parents are always lying to their kids, Susan thought, but was that the best way? The kind of oppressive upbringing that she herself had, was that the best way, with her parents feeding her all kinds of crap?

“Yes, I have. Why?” Susan replied, keeping her voice as even as possible.

Hmmmm, Hailey thought to herself, maybe mom’s gonna be completely down with me. “Well, I’m kinda, I dunno, confused. I have had sex with a boy, you, um, know.”

Susan digested this for a moment; she didn’t really know, but she did know that most kids now-a-days had sex before seventeen. “I didn’t know, but I appreciate you telling me. I do. What did you use for protection?”

“You know, condoms. Guys have ‘em; they’d better or ain’t nuthin’ happenin’, dude.” Hailey used her Philly-street voice and laughed at herself; Susan laughed too, a little awkwardly, but relieved that at least her daughter wasn’t being reckless.

“And, um, how did it go, with, uh, the boy?” Susan worked hard to just be conversational, but this ‘chat’ was killing her.

Hailey sat and swished her wine around, then sipped some more. She was already starting to feel it. She was one of those teens who really stayed clear of ‘things’. She had never tried pills of any kind; she thought it was absolutely lame, in her words; but she had lots of friends who tried pills and lots more.

She and Devon had had sex three times. They both would hang with their group where there was no real girlfriend / boyfriend thing; they were all just part of the gang. Hailey had given one other guy in the group a hand job one night, but that was it, the extent of her sexual life. I am freakin’ boring, she told herself. But that was before Alexis.

“It wasn’t, you know, hard-core or anything with Devon, I just wanted to, like, do it. All the bitches were like, when you gonna, little girl, and I just wanted to get it out of the way. But,” She paused and looked up for a moment, “I thought it would be more like OMG!, and like I don’t know…I don’t think either of us, like went, you know…anywhere. Devon didn’t come and I didn’t do anything. And it wasn’t like a ‘ship’ or anything with us, we’re not tight like that. We would just hang and try some, like…benefits.”

Brief pause, as Susan desperately attempted to process all this. “But now Dev is off to college. He’s already, you know, gone.” After this long disclosure Hailey regarded her wine again and sipped some more.

“So,” Susan started carefully, “why the questions about…girls?”

Hailey giggled. “Yeah, that. Hmmmm. You tell me first, what happened with you and another girl?”

It was Susan’s turn to sit and ponder. “Well, my first experience was when I was in grade eight, and Donna and I, oh, fooled around, but I was very sheltered, Hailey. Your father is my first and only man, so far. It’s just been, in the last little while, that I have kissed a woman.”

Hailey regarded her mom. “Nicole?” She said, quietly.

Susan looked at her. “Why would you think that, Dear?” she spoke, she thought, unemotionally, although her heart was suddenly beating furiously.

“Oh, just the way you look at her.” Hailey murmured.

Susan pondered. “Ok, yes, Nicole and I have kissed.”

“It felt good?” Hailey had finished her wine and was just sitting. Susan’s wine was gone too. They both sat.

“It felt, very good.” Susan said quietly.

“Did you do anything else, Mom?” Hailey prompted.

Her head beginning to swim, Susan replied quietly, “Like…what, Dear?”

“Did you take off your clothes. Did you touch each other. What was it like?”

Trying to turn the direction of the conversation, Susan asked, “Was there a girl in mind that, um, interests you?”

Hailey smirked, “Nice one, Mommsy. Yeah, I like Alexis. We have kissed, well more like making out, and we have squeezed each other’s, um, boobs. It made me excited and I know Alexis felt that way, too, but she also has hooked up with a couple of guys, so we aren’t like being total lezzies or anything. We’re not gonna start wearing boys’ clothes or shit, um sorry, stuff. It just felt good and I like her. Ok, now tell me more about you and Nicole. Did you take off any clothes?”

This conversation, as well as making Susan feel awkward, was also beginning to arouse her. She got up to fill their wine glasses and give herself a chance to  calm down.

“Ok, we did lots. We were naked and we kissed each other, um, everywhere.”

“Did she kiss your, you know, vj?”

“My, um, vagina?” Susan smiled in spite of herself.

Hailey giggled, “Yeah, that. That’s really what I want to do.”

“You want to kiss Alexis’s um, vagina?” Susan wasn’t totally comfortable with this, but she was interested. More interested than a mother should be perhaps.

Hailey smiled. “I want to kiss her pussy and I want her

to kiss mine. I want to totally sixty-nine her for like twenty minutes. That would be cool.”

“Does, um, Alexis, I mean; have you talked? How does she feel?”

“That’s just it, we haven’t talked. It’s freakin’ hard. How do you start? How did you and Nicole hook up, you know, the first time.”

Susan remembered that night with a smile. How attractive Nicole was, the little jolt she felt when Nicole followed her into the restroom; the thrill when they first kissed and how she wanted more. “With us, it was just kind of by chance. We’d had a few drinks, we ended up together; Nicole is a lesbian, I knew that or at least was pretty sure of it. She came on to me and I, well, liked it. I certainly didn’t resist.”

Hailey sat with a smile on her face; this was going better than she had hoped.

“Why don’t you call Alexis and try to set up something for tomorrow; have her come over here. Spend some time. You don’t need to have some big plan; just be together and see how it feels; see what develops.”

Hailey smiled and moved to her mother, hugging her. Susan could feel the warmth of Hailey’s breasts against her. “Thanks. Mom.” Hailey said, kissing the side of her mother’s face. “Thanks.”


“So can I come by tomorrow, I’m not…expecting anything, I would just like to see you.” Susan spoke quietly into her phone.

Nicole paused; she really felt no desire for this, but she liked Susan, and she didn’t want to hurt her. The woman was still, of course, also her boss.

“It would be nice to spend some time, together, Suse. Yeah, come over. It will be Nicole and Susan, girl talk, if that’s ok.”

It wasn’t okay, but Susan pushed down her disappointment

and thought positive thoughts of at least being with Nicole; maybe they could be just friends for a while and pick up where they were, in time.

The aching in her heart told another story. “Sounds great, Miss, um, Nicole.” Susan laughed self-consciously. “See you tomorrow afternoon.”


“That’s great.” Hailey enthused. “So we’ll see ya at one.”

Fer shure.” Alexis drawled, and they both laughed.

(End of Chapter 07)


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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 6 To Be All Made Of Fantasy

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 06 To Be All Made of Fantasy 

Nicole raised her hips, grunting, as Amara slammed her black strap-on dildo deep into Nicole’s pussy, both women now sweat-covered and gripped by passion.

“Please, please, please.” Nicole begged, her hands tied, her hips rising machine-like and engulfing the rubber phallus with each hard thrust. Nicole did not particularly like strap-ons, unless she was the one wearing it, but that did not matter to her right at this moment.

Right now she wanted an orgasm; an orgasm that Amara with remarkable skill had led her to but kept just out of reach until she now had Nicole where she wanted her.

Amara eased up on her thrusts, taking her time now, grinding and twisting her hips, drawing the phallus out almost completely, then pushing it back in, allowing her pubic bone to grind Nicole’s. “Please what, my little cunt?” She asked teasingly, licking sweat off Nicole’s face before sucking her lips into her mouth.

“Oh fuck, Amara. Oh, fuck, fuuuucccckkkk.” Nicole groaned, “Please let me come. Please. Please. Uh; ummmm, aaaahhh.”

“Will you be my sweet slut?” Amara murmured as she gripped an ear lobe with her teeth.

“Aaaaahhhh. Oh, Jesus”, Nicole now laughed, reaching up and kissing the larger woman who was on top of her, in more ways than one. “Oh, fuck yes. I will be your sweet slut. I will be. Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything….”


Nicole laughed again. “I know. I know. But yessss, I will do whatever you want. Please. Pllllleeeassse!”

“I want to fuck your sweet tight asshole. But you must beg me, like the slut you are.”

“Oh Jesus. Oooohhhh, ummm. Oh fuck. Please, sweet Mistress Amara, please fuck my ass. Please fuck me hard like the ss-slut I am. Gaaawwwdd!”

Amara flipped the smaller (to her) woman over, applied some lotion that she’d had sitting open for a while, waiting; then spread it into Nicole’s dark brown anus. She pushed two and then three fingers in, making Nicole grunt. “That’s it, grunt my little pig. Grunt.”

Amara then began to push the black dildo in, inch by enticing inch, as Nicole arched her back and pushed against what she would normally fight.

“Oooohhhh,” Amara sighed, looking down at the object now buried almost completely in this wonderful ass. She pulled back, pushed forward, pulled back and in a moment had a wonderful thrust going with Nicole in syncopation, lifting her ass to meet each thrust. Amara reached around and under and began to play with Nicole’s clit.

Nicole’s groans became louder, louder; her groans then began to be mixed with cries, when suddenly she arched her back and held it like that, while grunting one long, continuous, guttural cry of pleasure; endorphins cascading though her being like magic pixie dust. And then she laughed and laughed some more, and felt more at peace than she could remember.

Nicole loved her orgasms; she had them frequently, but this one was gigantic. Enormous. Memorable.

Amara turned her partner over and untied the hands that had been bound over Nicole’s head throughout, then covered the waiting face with kisses; Nicole kissed back, smiling and slowly rubbing her sex against the hairy pubes of the woman who had mastered her.

After a few minutes of gentle, loving kisses, Nicole whispered, “Now what?”

Amara smiled at her (she is fucking good looking, Nicole thought to herself). “Well, my sweet little slut, we will shower, and brush our teeth, and then sleep together in this bed. I have you for three days

and I intend to use them.”

Nicole lifted up and kissed the woman as softly on her mouth as she could.

“I’m sad it’s only three days”, she said, also softly.


Nicole came into the lobby of the hotel and spotted Doukas, leaning against the wall and looking out the front doors. Amara was on her way but there was no sign of Sheffield. Nicole walked up to Doukas and stopped, looking out the front with no greeting. Without looking at her, he murmured, “Have a pleasant sleep?”

Nicole forced a smile down; he was such an asshole. “Yes,” she replied, cheerily, “It was lovely.”

Doukas put on his sunglasses as he watched Sheffield pull their car up. “Did Amara use the black one on you, or the purple? Those are her favorites.”

Nicole paused before replying. “Why don’t you ask her, here she comes.” Nicole said evenly, controlling her breathing and her temper. Amara had just entered the lobby, looking, Nicole thought, beautiful; noting the heads that turned to observe the statuesque woman as she passed.

Doukas smiled his thin smile at this, then nodded at Amara, who quickly stroked Nicole’s hand, and then the three piled into the car in the same manner as the previous day.

Sheffield manoeuvered the Fabia through the streets of  Niš like she knew them; which of course she did. They were in an industrial section; Dionysus had a textile operation here and they were headed to a warehouse the operation used; but it wouldn’t be textiles waiting for them.

Sheffield pulled their car up alongside a military-looking truck and parked. There were two other cars there in the lot besides the large truck. No one was speaking, although Amara and Nicole were exchanging glances.

They entered through bulky doors into a large open space; possibly a third of the area was filled with crates and material stored on wooden pallets. Doukas led the way past all this to the far end, where a large, unpleasant looking man holding a rifle of some sort was guarding a pair of ominous looking metal doors; doors that said, “Stay Out”, or possibly, “You’re Not Leaving”; Nicole was just guessing, as the signs were in Serbian. The guard nodded to Doukas in silence.

The doors opened to a wide hallway, dimly lit with old-style fluorescent overhead lights. Their steps echoed loudly on the faded green/yellow linoleum as they walked, stopping halfway down the corridor and turning into a smaller room, even more dimly lit. There was enough light however to see that there was a group of women here, kneeling huddled on the floor, guarded by two other tough-looking women wearing what looked almost to be army uniforms.

Both these women acknowledged Doukas and Manos, stepping back slightly so the group of huddled forms could be viewed. It was definitely a mix; some girls that to Nicole appeared to be no more than twelve or thirteen, and a few women clearly in their forties, with others in between. Nicole counted twenty-two girls and women, and they were all naked.


Hailey poured her orange juice and called out, “Mom. Where are you?”

From somewhere upstairs came her mother’s distant voice. Hailey took her juice and sat at the island that functioned as both food preparation and eating space. She noticed her mom’s laptop sitting there and smiled. It would be neat to see what stuff her mom had on there, probably boring legal shit. Maybe she could check her search history!

Hailey regarded the computer, then opened up the screen. Just for the Hell of it, she pressed the power button and the screen came to life. It had a password, and Hailey pondered this, but then heard movement above here, so turned off the machine and closed it back up.

She would need to return to it when she had more time… and more info.


Manos and Doukas were in conversation, Sheffield was off to one side and Nicole was wondering why the Hell she was there. She watched now as the guards had the whole group of women kneel on hands and knees, and then put their heads on the floor, displaying their private areas completely. Doukas and Manos walked along, observing this display nonchalantly. Nicole managed to catch a submissive face now and then as it lifted briefly off the ground. The faces contained no anger, no hostility; just sadness.

Manos and Doukas conferred once again and then one guard was summoned, the second one being called to Sheffield; something was happening. The first guard took a group of ten, with the younger girls, over to the side and had them put on thin cotton dresses and then led them away to who knows where. The remaining twelve stood naked and were given the same dresses as well as sandals, then made to sit against one wall.

As they were sitting, a marvellously attractive girl, one of the youngest of this group, Nicole believed, with incredibly lovely blue eyes, looked directed at her. Nicole returned the look and a small smile, the girl quickly smiled back, showing wonderful white teeth.

At this moment one of the guards returned carrying papers and walked to Sheffield who, amazingly to her anyway, directed the guard over to Nicole. The guard handed over some legal papers and Nicole perused them; they were in English and another language, most likely Serbian again. And they were legal sale agreements; for the sale of livestock.

Nicole read over the short paragraphs of legalese and learned that Dionysus Global was apparently buying domestic livestock; twelve. She then looked over at the remaining group of captives, and shuddered slightly, even though it was quite warm in the room.


Nicole lay with her face pressed into the warm, fragrant breast of Amara. Why does she smell so nice, Nicole asked herself? It had to be some kind of bath wash. Nicole stroked the long hair growing from the woman’s armpits; she didn’t even mind this, found it arousing actually. Even her armpits smell nice, Nicole marvelled.

“What are you thinking, Nicky?” No one had called her Nicky since high school; she’d hated it then, but coming from Amara, it had a very pleasant tone; how strange life is, Nicole pondered for a moment.

She chuckled, “I was just thinking how good you smell.” Nicole said, her mouth closing on a thick, dark nipple, bringing forth a quick gasp from the owner.

“Oh, fuck, God that feels nice. Bite my nipple just a little…aaaaahhhhh, ummmm. Jesus-sss.” Amara nuzzled her face into her partner’s hair. “You think I smell nice?”

But Nicole did not respond. She just pressed herself against this woman, letting the tears seep out, until Amara noticed, and kissed her eyes.


Suitcases were packed and the clock was ticking. Amara and Nicole had both been very quiet this morning, the day of departure.

The previous day Manos had been busy helping Doukas with his ‘livestock’; she had overseen the move of eight of the women to a brothel in Belgrade that Dionysus controlled through a subdivision. The other four women, including the girl with the blue eyes, Tatjana, were going back to the U.S. with Doukas.

“Why do you work for him?” Nicole asked quietly, as she sat on the bed.

Amara smiled a rueful smile. “I’m struggling with how

to say goodbye to you and you ask me about him?” They  looked at each other.

Nicole pondered for a moment, fighting emotions she had never had to deal with. “The two are kind of… connected.” She said quietly.

Amara knelt in front of Nicole. “What do you want to have happen?”

Nicole looked at this face and felt a stab. She shook her head and smiled. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I haven’t a clue. I can’t even look at you. It hurts, for fuck’s sake.” She turned her head and looked out the window. The room was silent; two people, who seventy-two hours ago didn’t even know of the other’s existence, now sat burdened by the thought of their futures.

“Doukas and I have a long history.” Amara said quietly.

Nicole turned. “Tell me. At least a…summary.” She smiled, feeling another stab. Fuck! She thought.

In a quiet voice, Amara began. “My parents worked for Doukas, or something. I never knew for sure, but in my later teens I became, involved, with him. As a payment or something, Doukas made me available to three men; Greek businessmen; I think he owed them money. They had me for a weekend. They raped me. Repeatedly. They used every part of me; I was like a toy.

After I was released, I thought of killing myself.”

Amara paused, gathering her thoughts, controlling her emotions. “But. But, I decided instead to join the military reserves. I eventually became part of the special forces. I was a good soldier and a very good shot.

I went all over but ended up fighting in Bosnia. One day we were on a mission outside Mostar and had taken out our target and then we were pinned down. By the afternoon, there were only four of us left and we were being surrounded. We were running out of ammo and it looked like the end.

Suddenly a military chopper came in out of nowhere,

strafing the enemy, killing them or driving them back. We were able to climb into the chopper and get away. The rescue was arranged by Doukas, I am not sure how, although I know the man has eyes everywhere. He met me when we landed.” Amara paused again. “He said we were even.“

Nicole snorted and shook her head; Amara went on. “I left the military not long after that and went to work for a private security contractor, which was in fact part of Dionysus. So over the years; wow, it’s been over twenty; I have done a lot of work with Doukas and Dionysus. He has protected my mother and sister and kept me employed; very well in fact.”

Nicole had listened to this like it was some fantasy adventure. This whole trip had been like a fantasy; who would believe her if she told them? “So, were you…even?” She asked, looking closely at Amara.

“Have I forgiven him, you mean?” She asked.

“I guess.”

Amara sat, lost in thought, struggling with what to say. “On the Friday night when I was taken, the men who had me were like, I don’t know, animals; fucking me almost non-stop. I even passed out at one point. On the Saturday, the sex, or at least the fucking, was off and on; but they made me do…things. Urinate in front of them, do strip dances, masturbate with different objects as they slapped me and insulted me.

They said they were going to make me have sex with animals, or they would sell me to Muslims. They took turns pissing on me; I thought I would just go crazy, like, um, just, like retreat into myself, you know, and be gone.

Then on Sunday, in order to be released, I had to crawl from one man to the other, lick their boots and thank them for their time.” She paused and looked at Nicole, then continued.

“Doukas may have saved my life, but it will never be… even.” She said, and Nicole nodded in understanding.


The jet taxied on the private runway and came to a halt. Nicole looked over at the four females they were transporting; all looked apprehensive. Nicole herself felt apprehension, as well as loss. She had never said goodbye to someone she cared for; and she had never felt for anyone what she had felt for Amara. It had been crazy, and so totally unexpected. She had the persistent desire to pinch herself just to make sure this was real.

Amara had admitted the same; what happened between them was completely unplanned, and now they had to deal with …emotions. Amara had slipped a new phone into Nicole’s handbag saying she could use it to contact her and no one, especially Doukas, would know.

But Nicole was now surprised to see Doukas stand, talk briefly to Sheffield in a low whisper that Nicole could not hear, despite being only a seat away, and then exit the plane. Nicole looked at Sheffield with raised eyebrows, while Sheffield looked back with her usual insolence, before saying, “The Boss is remaining in London. He has other business. We are carrying on to New York.”

She then opened the magazine on her lap and ignored Nicole. For a moment, Nicole imagined slapping Sheffield as hard across the face as she could. But of course she wouldn’t; couldn’t. Sheffield was a stocky five-eight and looked like she could lift weights. No, Nicole would not be striking her. But she enjoyed imagining it.

Her thoughts turned again to Amara and Fuck! That stabbing pain again. Jesus! She had never had to deal with this. It was a bitch. Nicole had often wondered about how many love songs were out there; she was only now beginning to understand why.


The taxi stopped along busy Dundas Street and Doukas got out, walking the block to Glenfaulds Gallery, a London art house known for having an extensive eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth century collection. Under his arm he carried a package; one might guess it was a painting, which it was. Not a large painting; eighteen by twenty-two inches, but a commanding painting none-the-less.

When he entered he asked for Rosalind Kane and waited until the woman was summoned. Kane entered, looking stylishly business-like in a black skirt and striped blouse, with a striking Elgin cashmere woven scarf. She sported an unruly mane of curly black locks, possibly the Jamaican side of her heritage. Her five-five height was accented by three inch heels and she had a brisk and aggressive manner.

Now in her early thirties, she had become one of the top buyers of early twentieth century European paintings in a mere five years. Some hinted she was more than lucky. “May I help you?” She inquired, approaching Doukas with a smile; her mind, however, was registering concern. This man looked like trouble.

“Miss Kane, you have been recommended to me by Magdalena. I am Louis Doukas. I believe we may be of benefit to each other.” Doukas spoke smoothly in his usual manner; voice deep and velvety, like a BBC announcer, then he paused, quickly appraising the woman before him. “I would suggest we speak somewhere a little more…private.”

Kane regarded him with both interest and suspicion, her dark eyebrows rising toward her hairline.


In the week since her return, much had transpired. It was amazing, Nicole thought, how your whole life can swing around. First off, she and Amara had spoken to each other a number of times; time zone calculations being the only issue. The conversations were not nearly as long as either wanted, but Nicole was very mindful of her long distance charges. She still had debts to deal with. On the sixth day Amara had figured out the issue and scolded Nicole saying she would place the calls and they would talk as long as they wished. That night they talked for over an hour.

Another change was that Meaghan had moved out. It was a mutual agreement thing; Nicole found she had no interest in the girl now and Meaghan had herself become restless and wanted more freedom. They parted on good terms and left the door open for something down the road.

From Meaghan’s side, she had enjoyed serving Nicole; the roles were well played. For Nicole, Meaghan was one in a line of young women who had come into her life to be used and then discarded with after the fun had run its course.

Regarding their trip, of the four ‘women’ they had brought back, Sheffield had taken two to New York, leaving Tatjana and Sofija in Nicole’s care for two days, the two sleeping in the second bedroom in the bed used by the departed Meaghan. Both of them had cried when they were allowed to shower and hugged Nicole in robust gratitude, calling her something she could not even pronounce, but which meant master or mistress.

The first night, Tatjana had come quietly to Nicole’s bed, sliding in beside her, her naked body warm and inviting. But she had not offered sex, and Nicole had not wanted it. They simply lay together and when she woke in the morning, Nicole found a now hot body pressed against hers, Tatjana’s face nestled into her neck. When Tatjana woke, the two kissed, very gently for a minute or two before Nicole went to the shower, soon to be joined by Tatjana who washed her effectively like a servant, from head to toe with no stops along the way for fondling.

The young woman, who it turned out was actually twenty-three despite looking like a young teen, smiled up at Nicole after the shower and said, “Goot?”

Nicole smiled and kissed the girl on her head. “Very, um, goot.” She laughed.

Two days later Sheffield came for them and where they

were now Nicole was not sure, but she wanted to find out. Knowing she was part of a human trafficking operation was filling her with disgust and guilt, something she had not anticipated.


Doukas followed the round, attractive ass of Rosalind Kane down a small hallway and into a crowded office. Kane pulled her chair out and offered Doukas the other.

“So, what is this about Mr…Doukas?”

Doukas put his package down and reached inside his suit jacket, bringing out an envelope which he passed to Ms. Kane. The envelope contained photographs. “I believe you will find these…interesting.” He murmured, in a quiet voice that still held menace. Doukas sat with his thin smile as Kane began to look through the photos, alarm showing on her face. There were eight, and when she had viewed them all, she paused, steadying herself.

“Where did you get these?” She asked, anger and fear in her voice.

Doukas studied her for a moment. “That does not matter.” He said evenly. “What matters is that I have them and then, what I intend to do with them.”

Six months earlier Doukas had begun to put this plan in motion, beginning with the painting that he would soon reveal. But, planning several steps ahead, he had an associate use Kane to broker the sale of another stolen paining; stolen by one of Doukas’s associates but ending up as usual in his possession.

During the negotiations, the associate had strategically placed his phone and recorded the deal. It was from that video that Doukas had made the still shots; shots that showed clearly the painting; Kane and the exchange of money.

Kane could bluff her way and bluster, but she was cooked. Doukas knew that; he just enjoyed playing this out.

“S-so, what do you intend…to do?” She asked quietly.

“Look at me.” Doukas commanded and the woman looked up; all swagger gone; fear in her eyes. “Do you like men or women?” He asked.

“I beg your pardon…” Kane replied, looking flustered.

“It’s not a hard question, Ms. Kane. Do you have sex with men or women?”

Squirming slightly on the leather chair, Kane tried to sound relaxed. “I…I have been with both,” she said quietly.

Doukas chuckled; he of course already knew that. “And when you…are, with men, do you suck their cocks?”

Kane looked for a moment like she would throw something at this odious man, but she maintained her ‘stiff upper lip’; the British part of her heritage showing. “That depends…” she said quietly.

Doukas laughed softly again. “So, um, Rosalind, we both know what the photos show and that you would be facing serious jail time if they were given to the authorities. So, here is the deal, as they say. I own your arse. Say that.” He looked at her; she stared vacantly back, before finding her voice.

“You, um…do you really need me to say, that?” She asked in a small voice.

“Yes.” Doukas sat patiently, eyes partly closed.

Kane sighed deeply, then uttered quickly and quietly. “You, um, own my arse.”

Doukas chuckled. “And…I can do what I want with it….”

“And, um, (sigh) you can do what you want with…it.” She regarded him with new alarm. “You aren’t really going to do, something with…?”

“Your arse?” Doukas added, helpfully, then smiled. “No, I own it, and can rent it or fuck it as I wish, but that is not my plan today. No, but you need to let your staff know you will be busy for…a while, and then you need to take off all your clothes and get down here on the floor, beside me.”

Kane stared at the man like he was an alien being; her brown face actually blanched.

It was a toss-up whether she would faint or throw up.


(End of Chapter 06)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 5 When You Have No Choice, Find Courage

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 05 When You Have No Choice, Find Courage 

Thomas, one of Doukas’s most trusted associates, returned to the car, Doukas lowering the window as he approached.

“This is the place.” Thomas noted, his South African accent strong despite having lived the last ten years in the U.S.

Following the most recent names supplied by Martin, Doukas had located one of the girls; he had also located her pimp and three other young girls he was using. Doukas climbed out the back door and Thomas led the way. They went to the rear of the old, two-storey, brick office building. Thomas quickly unlocked the door with one of his tools and the two men moved quietly down the stairs into the basement level, then along a dimly-lit hallway. They could hear music coming from a room at the end of this corridor, which they reached quickly and silently.

The room they came out into was furnished with two couches and a large chair; music was coming from a laptop sitting open on a table. Four girls were sitting on the couches and a large black man was sitting in the chair. He stood, reaching for a gun as Doukas and Thomas entered.

“What you mutha-fu…” was all he had uttered, before Doukas put a bullet into his thigh, and the man, known only as ‘Ace’, went to his knee. Doukas’s gun had only made a low pop because of the silencer, so the room was strangely subdued; both Thomas and Doukas put their fingers to their lips, signalling silence to the girls; two black, one brown and one white.

Doukas stood over Ace, who snarled up at him, “You don’t know who you messin’ with, asshole….” Doukas struck the man across the face with his gun, opening a gash over the right eye, blood then began running down the dark face.

“Papers.” Doukas said quietly. “Do these girls have documents of any kind?”

“Go fuck your….” Was all Ace said before Doukas shot him in the head. He turned to the girls, who stared at him in silence and with wide eyes. They had seen some nasty things in their time with Ace, but they had never witnessed a killing.

“Does he have any documents of yours? Licences, birth certificates, things like that?” Doukas asked in his low, smooth voice.

Three of the girls shook their heads, but the taller of the two black girls stood up and went to the table; reaching under, she took out a large envelope that had been taped there.

“Good.” Doukas smiled his thin smile. “Come on; we’re going.”


Hailey came in from the back deck, passing her mom in their spacious kitchen; she’d been catching some summer sun.

“My God, Hailey, what’s that you almost have on there.” Susan, in her best mother’s voice exclaimed, looking at the tiny ‘suit’ Hailey had on, which was essentially two triangles covering her nipples and a (slightly) larger triangle of cloth covering her (closely shaved) labia. She was basically naked and Susan might have been reacting to the obvious fact that late-blooming Hailey’s slender body had filled out over the last few months.

“What, Mom? What’s the prob?” Hailey asked, innocently, removing her sunglasses. “I’m just in the back. It’s completely private. I could be out there, you know, like naked and it’s only you and me, I wouldn’t even let my squad check me, so you gotta chill, hey?”

Susan sighed. “I guess I just can’t believe my little girl has grown up.” Susan glanced at her daughter’s breasts, that were now clearly larger than her own, and looked (damn it, stop that, Susan told herself) enticing on her lithe frame.

“Duh, I’m almost eighteen and I’m taller than you now, Mom, in case you’ve been dozin’.” Hailey had a little smirk on her face, which teens have worn for decades, when confronting parents who are, by their nature, clueless.

“And I really need to get my licence.” Hailey added, thinking this was a good time to get that in, as her mother seemed more confused than usual.


The four girls were kneeling naked in another room in another warehouse owned by Doukas. They were not bound as none had shown any resistance; they didn’t know their new tormentor, but they were happy to be free of Ace.

Dr. Zabat was on his way so they were just waiting. Doukas regarded the group comprised of one sixteen, one seventeen and two nineteen-year-old girls, in the spectrum of colors noted. All were slim (underfed, Doukas had noted, which was why they were all now eating cheeseburgers and fries as they waited).

Doukas had gone through the envelope; he now had all of their real names, and one was definitely from Ms. Martin, so another payment to her; the other three were once again a bonus. Doukas did not need the money, he just liked to always come out on top.

“Hey, Mister.” The white girl (Alanna), who was the closest to him, asked Doukas.  “What are you going to do with us?”

Doukas regarded her for a moment, putting down the papers. “I’m not going to fuck you, so stop worrying about that.” The girl looked at him, expressionless, then put the last of her fries in her mouth. “A doctor is coming to look you over, to see if there is anything…amiss.” Doukas picked up his papers again.

Alanna was one of the nineteen-year-olds. Tough but pretty, if you got past the bridge studs, eyebrow rings (three) and spider-web neck tat, which Doukas couldn’t; relatives of his had been tattooed by the Nazis in the Great War, and the idea of marking one’s body was offensive to him.

But still, he had plans for them all; hopefully they were clean.


July Fourth, and everyone was enjoying the holiday. Nicole was feeling good as she had received two more checks and her financial situation was definitely looking up; she had been faithful to her objectives. Today she was just relaxing, waited on by the ever faithful Meaghan, with no big plans. Or even small ones.

Susan was with Hailey at some event. Nicole had a little research and a brief to look over, but it was not anything excessive. She could just lay around, and she was enjoying it; if she had known that her life would be getting busy very soon, she might have relaxed even more emphatically.


The two youngest girls had been taken away and Doukas was eighty-five hundred dollars to the good; he just laughed; there was a time, early on, when he did some pretty brutal things for much less. Now it was almost a case of where to stash the cash. He chuckled to himself at that; despite Ms. Sheffield’s attitude, he did have a sense of humor. It just tended to be a little dark.

He walked over to where Alanna and Dallas (one of the black girls) were kneeling. He unzipped and took out his already hardening erection, then had both girls begin to work on him at the same time. First one then the other took his stubby erection into their mouths, while lathering his balls and shaft with their warm saliva.

It had been a while since he had had a ‘double’ and these two were heading to a private club of his in New Jersey tonight, so he thought he would give himself a little present while there was time.

It was the nation’s birthday, after all, and he would provide his own, personal fireworks in a few moments, as the two girls were showing they had excellent oral skills.

Oral, not verbal, Doukas chuckled to himself again; he had never enjoyed a talkative woman.


Nicole had been working in her ‘cube’ for about an hour when Dani poked her head in and announced that ‘the partners’ wanted to chat with Nicole. What’s this about, Nicole wondered nervously as she headed for a board room; Susan certainly hadn’t mentioned anything.

Waiting for her were Peter, Susan and the other two partners of the firm. They looked relaxed and Susan was smiling, so Nicole relaxed. As it turned out, Dionysus International was very pleased with their time so far with van der Strom, and happy with the relationship, so once again, congrats were extended to the junior associate. Nicole smiled, her mind swirling again.

The meat of the matter, though, was that members of the organization would be travelling, in a day or two, to Serbia on business, and they wanted legal representation with them, and they had requested Ms. Martin. Nicole stared at the four smiling faces before her.


Nicole was just back from getting the vaccinations necessary for her travel, and she stopped in to see Susan. As the door closed, Susan came and knelt by her mistress, who leaned forward and kissed the submissive long and hard. “Over the desk, sweet Sue.” Nicole commanded and Susan bent at the hips on top of her large, black oak desk.

Nicole flipped up Susan’s skirt and pulled down the cotton panties, then checked to see that the metal balls were in place. The butt plug showed its little black end. “That’s a very good girl,” Nicole crooned, squeezing Susan’s buttocks firmly. She would have loved to slap the firm ass before her, but was concerned with the sound that would emanate from the office. “Can you get out for lunch?” Nicole asked.

Susan turned her head as much as she could, “Yes, I think so. Meet you at reception at twelve.”

“Check.” Nicole left, and Susan quickly straightened up her clothing and forced down her arousal, calming her breathing; and then returned to her work.


Nicole now felt some pressure. Her bosses were all happy with what they thought was going on; the problem of course was they only had a part of the narrative, and the part that was missing would make them crazy and cost Nicole her job, if not some possible charges. What the Hell was she thinking? She remonstrated with herself. But then, who would have seen the dangers?

The temptations were too much. Nicole had been trapped, much as she had trapped others. It wasn’t a good feeling and she did not have a good feeling about this trip. Business, like Hell, she said to herself.

And now she was required to meet with Ms. Smith to go over some things. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Nicole did not like this; she looked again at the address she had been given; it was central, that was one good thing.

Maybe the only good thing.


Nicole entered into the little office behind Ms. Smith. Like most of what Dionysus owned in Philly, this building was older and, well, basic. The room they entered was not large and furnished in the common Spartan mode Doukas appeared to favor; there were two loveseats (brown leather) two wooden chairs, a coffee table, a desk, three lamps and a small fridge. An open

door at one end suggested an adjoining room.

As they entered, Nicole noticed a man was sitting on one of the loveseats. By the way the loveseats were arranged, the end where the man was sitting was darker than most of the room, and Nicole could not see the individual clearly. ‘Smith’ motioned for Nicole to sit on one of the wooden chairs, as she went over and leaned against the far wall near the door.

“Good evening, Miss Martin.” The man in the shadows spoke. Now that she was sitting, Nicole could make out what she would consider to be an ‘older’ man, with a mane of grey (silver?) hair and a dark-ish complexion. For whatever reason, maybe the man’s prominent nose, Nicole thought he might be eastern European (maybe Serbia was on her mind).

“Good evening,” Nicole said back to the shadow man.

“For now, simply address me as Mr. Smith.” Nicole thought she caught the hint of a smile as the man said this, in his deep and actually pleasant voice with its hint of a British accent.

Her heart beating more than she would have preferred, Nicole found her voice, “Fine Mr. Smith. Any relation to Ms. Smith?” Nicole couldn’t help it, this cloak and dagger stuff was getting to her.

Doukas actually chuckled at Nicole’s impudence; he liked that, much preferring to break a defiant individual, when he had the chance. He leaned forward to pour two shot glasses of vodka, allowing Nicole to see a tanned face and a large head, perhaps seeming more so by the mass of hair, combed back but framing the face in abundance.

Doukas held a glass out to Nicole, “We drink first, then we talk.”

With some trepidation, Nicole took the glass and watched as ‘Smith’ tossed the liquid back in one gulp, placing his glass back gently on the coffee table.

“Do not sip, drink.” Doukas directed, and Nicole threw the drink down and coughed; it was quality vodka and strong. She wiped her mouth and put the glass back, looking directly at the man called Smith. “Now, remove all your clothes.” The man said, as casually as he had instructed her to drink.

“What?” Nicole spoke quietly, immediately regretting saying that, because it was stupid. She knew what he said.

From the wall, Sheffield remarked in an even voice, “She can sometimes be a little dense.”

Doukas sighed and folded his hands, as if he were about to deliver a talk to a recalcitrant child. “I knew a man once who said that if you don’t want to look up you must be on top. That made sense to me, so I have done things that way. But to be on top, one must always have an advantage. My advantage with you, Ms. Martin, is that I know all about you.” He regarded her for a moment.

“Your upbringing with no father and an alcoholic mother; which was very difficult, yet despite that, you were successful.” Nicole was forcing herself to look at him, but finally she had to look away, as he continued.

“School was your playground; it is where you excelled, right up through university to a law degree. But you never forgot your roots; did you?” Nicole continued to look down; she could almost feel the man’s cold blue eyes boring into her. “Which is why you don’t admit your roots, your upbringing, to anyone. Which is why you live as you do, extravagantly, and beyond your means.” Doukas poured two more shot glasses, downing one and leaving the other.

“Your lifestyle is what brought you to my attention. And now, because of your needs, you have supplied me with private information; information which if I divulged the source to your bosses, would immediately be recognized as coming from you.

So I have the leverage, Ms. Martin. I am on top. And you, you must do what is needed to survive. Which means doing what I want and being rewarded. Or not, and being punished. Those are the choices I present to you, because I am on top and can do this.” He paused, waiting, watching.

“Now, I wish to see you naked. You can get up and leave and your little world crashes down tomorrow, likely taking your…friend, Susan, with you. Or you can swallow your pride and obey; you work with me, you make more money, your firm benefits, everyone is happy. The choice may not please you, but it is an easy one. Now, take off your fucking clothes.”

When Nicole stood, Ms. Sheffield came beside her and efficiently took the clothes from her as she removed them, until Nicole finally and reluctantly turned over her red thong panties.

After Sheffield put the clothes in the other room and returned, she pulled Nicole’s hands behind her back and tied them, then left the room, leaving Nicole standing naked a few feet from Doukas. Nicole noticed for the first time the large ceiling fan, which was making a hum.

The slim, grey-haired man moved one wooden chair in front of Nicole and sat on it. He took his time, looking up and down her body. He reached out a hand and fondled the shaved labia, tugging gently on the lips, as Nicole squirmed slightly. He turned Nicole around and made her bend forward as he examined her anus.

When he turned her back around, he forced her to her knees. Then he stood and unzipped his fly. With vomit rising in her throat, Nicole watched in horror as Doukas’s fat cock came to her mouth. In her entire life she had never sucked a cock, having gotten away with the occasional hand job until she was in university and no longer dating boys.

Doukas squeezed her nose shut until Nicole opened her mouth, accepting the erection. Forcing down a gag reflex, Nicole closed her eyes and let Doukas move her head back and forth, and back and forth, until to her disgust his cock erupted and warm cum was deposited down her throat, with Doukas laughing out loud. He held her face against his crotch for a few moments, his breath coming noisily from his nostrils, before releasing her and doing up his slacks.

Doukas then took the poured shot glass of vodka and held it to Nicole’s lips, then emptied the glass down her throat, holding her face gently as she coughed. He then sat back on the loveseat, as Nicole knelt, head down, determined not to cry in front of this son of a bitch.


Nicole had never been on a private jet before. She looked around with appreciation, although she did not want to give Louis Doukas (he had shared some information, including his name, with Nicole after their time together) any credit for anything, even having a nice jet.

This particular plane had eight seats, but only three were occupied. Doukas and Sheffield (Nicole now knew her name as well) sat facing each other in one group of four seats, while Nicole had a group to herself.

Although she hid it, she was excited at travelling to Serbia, which seemed to her to be exotic, even dangerous. But she was apprehensive as well as she was convinced this trip was not about good things. She was also disgusted with Doukas’s hold on her.

After she had been released from their initial encounter, Nicole had sat in her car and sobbed like she never had in her life. Then when she returned home and following a brief, blunt greeting with Meaghan, she had spent half an hour in the shower, cleaning and cleaning; but unable to clean away the disgust.

Finally, she had brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth for fifteen minutes, but of course the aftertaste of Doukas’s blow job lingered. She still had flashbacks, the cock coming to her face, the slimy ejaculate; and was distressed thinking he could do it again.

Whenever he looked at her, his pale blue eyes half-closed, she felt anxiety. Sheffield’s continuous smirk maddened her. She wanted to bash Doukas’s head with a baseball bat and smother Sheffield with a bag over her face.

These violent thoughts gave her some solace.


After landing in Belgrade, the three travellers walked across the tarmac and were met by a tall, slim, dark- haired woman in her mid-forties. She had intense, striking dark eyes and dark hair; though where Sheffield’s was short and somewhat ‘manly’; this woman, Amara Manos, wore her hair long and parted in the middle. She was also very attractive, and…somewhat sinister, Nicole thought.

Following a brief, businesslike greeting between Manos and Doukas, Nicole was brusquely introduced. Then the four climbed into their Skoda Fabia rental for the two hour drive to Niš; Sheffield and Doukas in the front with Sheffield driving.

Manos and Doukas spoke in Greek for the first while, catching up on business and shared connections and then they were silent. At this point, Manos moved her hand over to Nicole’s knee, and then gradually up her leg. Nicole had been dressed by Sheffield, with the advisory that she needed to look a certain way. She had a blue blazer over a white shirt and a navy skirt. Under this she wore a see-through white bra and a miniscule white thong, with crotch-less pantyhose.

As she was dressing, under Sheffield’s watchful and annoying eye, Nicole had felt foreboding, although the flight over had seen no unwanted activity. It had been quiet, almost boring, with everyone snoozing a little and engaged in their own activities and thoughts; certainly Doukas had not assaulted Nicole any further or even paid her any attention.

Apparently now, however, his associate had other thoughts. Nicole gripped the intruding hand as it made its way up her thigh, only to have this hand turn and grab her hand, squeezing it hard enough to make Nicole wince. Manos waved a warning finger in Nicole’s direction and her hand continued its journey, Nicole turning to stare out the window.

Manos now slipped an arm around Nicole, pinning her against the door and then forcing her left arm behind her back. Nicole thought briefly about crying out, but what would be the point? The two up front knew what was happening.

In Manos’s hand was some sort of clip and soon Nicole’s wrists were pinned together behind her.

“That’s better, my lovely.” Manos murmured into Nicole’s ear, slowly licking the side of her face. Manos moved over slightly and with a quick action undid the buttons on Nicole’s skirt and slipped it down and then over her shoes. She reached over and pulled the tiny thong aside, then inserted a finger into Nicole’s mouth.

“Lick it, my pretty slut.” Manos whispered, as Nicole, with little choice, licked the offending digit, which Manos then moved down and inserted into Nicole’s sex. The dark woman looked down at the shaved labia, observing and then whispered again, “I like dusky pussy lips like yours; I am going to enjoy your cunt while you are here. Doukas has told me I can do what I like with you, so you and I are going to become good, close friends. Very close.”

Despite her feelings of anger and resistance, Nicole was aware of her pussy being hot and wet, something Manos noted. “My little slut is nice and slippery.” She chuckled and turned Nicole’s face to her, kissing her and gently pulling Nicole’s lips between her teeth, then sucking her tongue. Manos now had three fingers plunging in and out of Nicole’s very wet pussy. Nicole’s hips now moved in time to Manos’s thrusts and her arousal grew, even as she was horrified at this. Damn it, Nicole cried in her mind, Damn it, No!

But her mind and her body were at opposing points. When Manos turned her face again Nicole eagerly accepted the lips and tongue of her captor, breathing in the fragrance of Manos’s thick, dark hair. Manos opened her blouse and unclipped the bra, placing a plump firm breast against Nicole’s mouth. Nicole quickly found the large, dark nipples and sucked them eagerly, whispering into Manos’s ear. “Please release my hands. I will not be a problem. I want to touch you. Please.”

“Say please, Miss Manos.”

So rare at being on the bottom, Nicole was amazed at what this phrase did to her. She ground her hips on the penetrating fingers, wanting the whole hand to enter.

“Mmmmmm, oh, fuck. Oh, Jesus. Please, please Miss Manos, please let me touch you.” Nicole purred into the warm, fragrant face of Amara Manos, who unclipped Nicole’s bonds.

Manos held Nicole’s face, and the two women stared at each other hard. “They say, when you look into the dark, the dark looks into you,” she smiled.

“That takes courage.” Nicole whispered back, kissing Amara’s throat.

“When one has no choice, then one must seek courage.” Louis Doukas said quietly from the front seat. He was quite enjoying the show.

He did not, however, notice the look Amara Manos gave him.

(End of Chapter 05)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 4 If You Could Help Me Find My Way

A Field of Candles

by LongDarkRoad

Chapter 04 If You Could Help Me Find My Way 

Susan was driving home, planning on showering and changing and then going to the hospice where Roland was now. She looked at the clock and calculated she would be home before ten, which would work. As she drove she thought over her time with Miss N. She had been naked the entire time from last night to this morning, when Miss N handed her clothes to her, and she dressed again in the hallway outside the apartment.

She cautiously pressed her crotch; she could tell her labia were still puffy, the result of having a ‘pussy pump’ sucking her outer genitalia into grotesque, engorged sausages, which Miss N delighted in pulling and spanking. One of Susan’s (this was unreal) four orgasms had come from that attention.

Susan had been tied to the bed and then over the end of the couch. She had been spanked with a wooden paddle, a leather paddle, a wooden ruler and a wide belt. Miss N had fucked her, both vagina and anus, with several dildos of various sizes and shapes. Two of the orgasms had come from that.

And she had spent time with her face between Miss N’s thighs, sucking and licking the wonderful pussy and ass of her mistress, who responded by going down on her slave’s vagina and effectively bringing her to orgasm number four.

Susan had not wanted to leave, but she knew her duty. As she approached her house she was thinking hard about how her life had so suddenly changed; and when she would be with Miss N again.


The office chatter at David van der Strom was subdued Monday morning with news that Susan Koning’s husband had passed away the night before. At Susan’s request, office life carried on and she made a point of stating

she would be back later in the week.

As Nicole was signing something at the front desk, a young female bike courier came in to pick up several letters that needed to get across town today. Nicole looked at this girl and then asked, “Is your name Meaghan by any chance?”

Of course it was; Susan having hired her for this job on Friday. “Come this way.” Nicole said and Meaghan followed the shapely hips enclosed in a tight navy blue skirt down the hall. They went into Susan’s office. Meaghan stood with a small smile, looking relaxed, as if she were called into lawyer’s private offices every day. Nicole wasn’t sure if she liked this confidence or was challenged by it.

“Susan told me of you. I found what she had to say, very…interesting.” Nicole kept her gaze fixed and Meaghan looked down.

“That’s cool,” Meaghan said quietly.

“Turn around and lower your jeans. I want to see you.”

Meaghan looked at Nicole for a moment, and the young lawyer thought the girl was just going to turn and leave. But Meaghan smiled, spun around and dropped her jeans. She was about to pull down her thongs when Nicole commanded, “Stop. You only do what you are told.”

“Yes, Miss.” Meaghan said in a respectful voice. This brought a smile to Nicole’s face and she came and stood in front of the young woman; Meaghan was a couple of inches taller, but Nicole had heels on so they were eye to eye. Nicole knelt down in front of Meaghan, then reached up and pulled her thong down. She regarded Meaghan’s trimmed patch and her decoration. She tugged on the clit ring and Meaghan moaned and closed her eyes.

Nicole stood and pressed on Meaghan’s shoulders until the girl was kneeling, her face directly in front of Nicole’s crotch. “I am Miss N to you, bitch.” Nicole said, quietly. “Now thank me for looking at you.”

Meaghan licked her lips and then looked up. “Thank you, Miss N, for looking at me. Is there some way I can be of use to you?” She smiled and looked young, in spite of her piercings and shaved head.

Nicole smiled down at her new toy. “I think there is a number of ways you can be of use.” Nicole wrote her address on a slip of paper. “Be there tonight if you want to get to know me…better.” She bent down and kissed the girl’s mouth; it turned out to be wonderfully soft and responsive.

Meaghan tucked the paper into her bra. “Thank you, Miss N. I will be there.”

Nicole opened the door and Meaghan stood without panic, pulling up her thong and jeans nonchalantly.

The two women went down the hall together, before Nicole continued on to her area and Meaghan went out the front door.


“There,” Nicole said as she straightened up and looked down at Susan, who was bent over her desk. To be clear, Nicole was looking closely at Susan’s ass and genitals. She had just placed two metal balls into Susan’s vagina.

Nicole then pulled up the full cotton panties that she wanted Susan to wear today to keep the objects from falling out. “That’d be embarrassing hey, kid?” she had teased Susan, who agreed it would be a conversation stopper, especially if the balls landed on a hardwood floor during a meeting and went rolling along.

Both women had laughed out loud at that image; Nicole noted it was good to hear Susan laugh. It had been a week since the funeral and there had been sadness and grieving. “So what’s happening at home?” Nicole continued.

Susan stood up and moved her hips, then commented on the sensation, “This is different, Mistress.” She smiled at Nicole. “Happenings at home? Well, just thinking it’s time to get back to a more normal life,

sort of. As much as one can, right now.”

Nicole nodded her head. “Well, it’s tough on your daughter; seventeen is hard. She’s not really a child but she’s, like, still immature enough to feel the loss.”

Susan nodded, “Yes, I was just thinking about how she’s grown up the last year. It will take a while to move on here, but it’s important to try.”

Nicole nodded in turn, “See you tonight.” She smiled, “Those balls stay in ‘til then.” Nicole kissed the older woman and left. On the way back to her desk, the image of Hailey running upstairs in her tight shorts came to Nicole’s mind, and she smiled.

She had certainly thought on the possibilities of expanding her number of Koning slaves. Having added Meaghan, who was proving to be an obedient submissive, Nicole liked the idea of being served and pleasured by numerous ‘girls’.

As she sat at her desk she hummed a tune, thinking of some new things she would have Meaghan and Susan do tonight.


Doukas looked up at Sheffield as she stood by his desk. They were in his new Philadelphia office, “I’m around here enough, I need a home base.” He had said. “Yes, Ms. Sheffield,” Doukas murmured in his smooth voice.

“Mr. R. has a lead on one of Martin’s girls.” Sheffield announced. ‘R’ was a local investigator Doukas sometimes used. Doukas would have one individual track a target, and then bring in another to apply a trap or just initiate contact; then one or two of his more trustworthy, long-time associates would be brought in if a girl was actually going to be taken. ‘Martin’s girls’ were the three names Nicole had provided.

Now Sheffield handed her boss a sheet of paper. “She has given us another name.” Sheffield stated unemotionally.

“Good,” Doukas purred, reading. “Very good.”


Susan lifted her head and ran her tongue along the inner folds of Meaghan’s labia. There was really no taste and a mild, musky odor that Susan found arousing. But also arousing was what Meaghan was doing to Susan’s own vagina, as the two women had been put in a classic sixty-nine positon by Miss N and instructed to please each other until told to stop.

They had been at it for about ten minutes, Meaghan on top, as Miss N sat on her couch and sipped some wine.

“Keep licking, whores.” Nicole said, kneeling beside Susan’s head. She inserted a small funnel into Meaghan’s tight, pink anus. And then poured in a little of her wine. Removing the funnel, which she had Susan lick off, she positioned Meaghan’s anus above Susan’s mouth, instructing the older woman to enjoy some wine; by sucking it out, of course. Susan covered Meaghan’s asshole with her mouth and Meaghan arched her back; wine came out in a small stream which Susan lapped up enthusiastically, her orgasm building.

As Susan was doing this, Meaghan worked, sucking on the woman’s clitoris. Suddenly, Susan was moaning and uttering little cries, her hips rising and her legs a-quiver. After twenty seconds or so, Susan lay still, her breasts rising and falling; her eyes closed.

Nicole turned Meaghan so she could look at Susan, lying with one hand over her eyes and a wide grin on her face.

“Kiss the slave,” Miss N instructed, and Meaghan stretched out on top of Susan, and covered her face with kisses.                                          ****

The two girls huddled together against the wall; hands tied behind their backs and duct tape over their mouths. Jules and Terry had caught them and then taken them to ‘Jonesie’, who had loaded them, blindfolded, into his pick-up for delivery to Sheffield, who had brought them to this warehouse; one of several that Dionysus owned in the city. This one had a little washroom area that was convenient.

The girls were black; the target, Andrea, street name ‘Cubby’, was now nineteen but her partner, known as ‘Angel’ was only seventeen. Both had been on the streets for a year, living in abandoned buildings, stealing and hooking to survive.

Doukas was pleased because neither girl was on anybody’s radar. After checking them out medically, Doukas would know what to do with them. They were waiting now on the doctor.

The room they were in was Spartan; a worn couch; a table with three wooden, mismatched chairs and a workbench. The only new thing in the room was Sheffield’s laptop, sitting on the bench. Doukas handed Sheffield an envelope. “Take this to Martin.” Doukas paused and smiled. “Take it tomorrow, right to her apartment. That will send a shiver up her back. But, she’s earned it.” He smiled his thin smile again.

Nicole had no way of knowing that Doukas had found one of the girls whose names she had given him; but whatever Doukas was, and he was many things, he didn’t lie. Martin had earned the money so she would get it. The fact Doukas had a bonus, and possibly a valuable bonus he thought, looking at the lanky teen with her attractive body and youthfulness, was not Martin’s concern. The girl was an enticing creature and therefore worth more; and that bonus was for him.

Thank you, he thought, smiling. Nicole Martin would get what she was owed, but nothing more.

That was business.


Sheffield’s cell vibrated; she was alone with the two girls, Doukas having gone off somewhere. Dr. Zabat, a relation of Doukas’s (he seemed to have relatives everywhere) was on his way. Sheffield had given Angel a sedative shot ten, and then ‘Cubby’ one five minutes ago; the sedative was moderate strength and fast acting, but also left the system quickly, so Sheffield had waited until the call from the doctor saying he was on his way.

Angel was perched on one of the wooden chairs, her hands tied behind her. Sheffield had given her a cursory once over and noticed no rashes or anything suspicious, but Zabat would look as well. Angel sat with a small smile on her face, which would last for probably another fifteen minutes at most, but Zabat was quick and thorough. He did not like to be on site for very long.

Sheffield heard the side door open and then the footsteps as Zabat crossed the hard floor to her spot in one corner. She nodded at the man who placed his bag on the floor and took out vials and needles. After drawing blood three times, he knelt and examined Angel, taking a swab and making her giggle.

“Ok, let’s have the other.” He said in a voice that was dark like Doukas’s, but still retained a strong Greek accent.

Sheffield took Angel into a small side office and returned with the petite ‘Cubby’, who stood possibly five-one against the lanky but younger Angel, who was at least five-nine. Both girls were brown; more Jamaican than African. Both had dense black pubic patches that they had managed to keep trimmed very short.

Zabat repeated the procedure and when he was done, he regarded Sheffield with a certain look. She nodded and went to the room where Angel sat, beginning to come around. From this room, Sheffield could hear the distinctive sound of flesh slapping flesh coming from where Zabat and Cubby were, as the man enjoyed his ‘tip’.

Sheffield waited, dressing Angel while she was still compliant. After she finished binding the young girl and putting tape over her mouth, she heard the unmistakeable sound of a happy ending coming from the

other area.

Sheffield waited three or four minutes, and when she went in, Zabat was just zipping up. “I’ll have the results back as quickly as I can, but it will be three days anyway.” He said in a business-like way.

Sheffield handed him an envelope (it contained five hundred dollars) and thanked him briskly, and then Zabat made his way out. Looking at him depart, Sheffield could see a resemblance to Doukas. Both men about five-nine; dark olive skin; thick dark hair (Doukas’s had turned silver) and with the same stocky frame.

Sheffield looked at ‘Cubby’; she was lying bent over the chair; her small, brown ass facing Sheffield who walked over and looked at the figure, noticing the white liquid oozing out.

Well, she though, chuckling, Zabat was Greek after all.


Nicole’s intercom buzzed; it was Saturday morning and she was not expecting anyone; Susan would be over tomorrow. Meaghan came out of the kitchen, naked as she was not allowed to wear clothes in the apartment, and stood with an inquiring look on her youthful, attractive face. “It’s ok, finish my breakfast, put it on the table and kneel by my chair and wait.”

“Yes, Miss.” Meaghan smiled and returned to her task.

Nicole answered the call. ”Miss Martin, it is Ms. Smith.”

Nicole recognized the mild Irish accent, and was disturbed that the woman had come to her apartment; but she was also intrigued, so she buzzed her in. A few moments later, the elevator opened and ‘Ms. Smith’ strode purposefully out. Nicole was standing and waiting by her open door.

“Can I help you?” Nicole asked, in a business-like tone. She was not feeling particularly cordial.

‘Smith’ smiled that thin smile, and in her hand was an

envelope. “Once again, Miss Martin, it is we who help you. Bring me your American Express card.”

“What?” Nicole asked, even though the question was clear; it was the purpose that was not.

“Your card, Miss Martin.” Sheffield’s face had a no-nonsense look, and the envelope was enticing, so Nicole went off, returning with her card. Sheffield reached over and took it from her hand and then, demonstrating her trademark efficiency, removed scissors from her bag, quickly cut the card in three and handed the pieces back.”

“Hey…” Nicole began, but stopped when Sheffield handed her the fat envelope and turned to go.

Nicole, flustered for a moment, called out, “Wait.” When Olivia Sheffield turned back to her, Nicole, her mind spinning, asked. ”How did you find my apartment?”

Sheffield just looked at her, “Really. Wow.” She shook her head and headed for the elevator. Nicole watched her for a moment uneasily, and then went inside her place, closed the door and sat down. She counted the money in the envelope. Two thousand, and a note that said, “Keep the names coming.”

Two thousand. She promised herself she would put the money against her debts, and use some to buy regular things. She would not, would not, buy unnecessary items. She. Would. Not.

The only way any of this made sense, whatever it was she was now mixed up in, was if she could help herself.

She was determined. It was the only thing that allowed her to justify this.


The girls were gone.

Once Doukas got the bloodwork back, he would make a final decision, but as of now the girls were on their way to Chicago. Sheffield did not ask to whom or for what purpose, although she could guess.

“The lawyer was surprised to see you.” Doukas asked from a chair. His face was in shadow so Sheffield could not read him.

She snorted. “I’ll say. She was not, um, friendly, shall we say.”

Doukas grunted. “Good. It is well to keep her guessing. I think she can be an asset; she just needs to know her place.” They were silent for a moment.

“You were right, she is a lesbian.”

Doukas grunted again. “Oh well, what can you do? It’s always sad, to me, when a lovely woman loves only, well, women. Oh well…” He reached over and took the glass from the table. Downing the vodka, he continued. “And the other names?”

“Thomas thinks the last one we got may be something. He thinks we should have Martin expand her search. She seems to just be focusing on certain sorts of girls….”

“Well, she’s a criminal defense lawyer. What’s in their files…angels? No, it’s…certain kinds of girls.”

Sheffield nodded her head. Her boss was right; when it came to practical things he usually was. She would have to think a little on how this young woman could be of more use. Her relationship with the older lawyer, now that had promise.

“See her again, Ms. Sheffield. Keep the heat on.”

Sheffield nodded. “As you say, sir.”


The senior lawyer Nicole worked with, almost exclusively, was Peter van der Strom, son of the (now retired) founder of the firm. Tall, thin, balding and bookish, many people had underestimated the man when facing him across the legal battlefield; and had paid for their misjudgement.

Nicole and Mel Stulzke were the young lawyers who did most of the prep work for van der Strom, so it was not unusual to find either of them going through case files

on a regular basis.

Despite this, Nicole still felt like she was being watched whenever she accessed the files looking for potential women for Smith and her boss. This week van der Strom had kept both Nicole and Stulzke busy, and Nicole had found it difficult to do much extra, but today she had spent a profitable time in her combing through, and had come up with some info.

She was now back at her desk and waiting for the associate at the desk beside her to leave so she could place a call to Smith. Finally, just before noon, the woman got up, cast a smile at Nicole and said, “See ya later” and headed out.

Nicole nodded, waited a moment, then dialed the number on the card. The now recognizable voice responded, “Hello, Miss Martin.”

“Um, yes, hello. I have two names that look promising.” Nicole briefly explained her reasoning and Sheffield, after a pause, agreed. After double-checking the spellings, Sheffield ended the call. Nicole sat, feeling guilty and ill at ease. But the money definitely soothed her emotions.

Looking up, to her surprise, she saw Susan entering. The woman strode directly to Nicole’s desk, maintaining her proper lawyerly attitude. They had agreed to keep all interactions normal outside of private places, so as to not forget and slip up, so it was that Susan addressed her mistress. “Hello, Nicole. How’s your day?”

Nicole smiled back, “Oh, just fine, thank you, Susan.” Both smirked, and then Susan handed Nicole another envelope. “What’s this?” Nicole asked as she opened it to find a check for $2500.

Susan continued, “This last month’s billings had that Dionysus company invoiced with the highest monthly amount in the last five years. There were over a dozen cases, mostly minor, but still; and three settlements in Dionysus’s favor. The company was happy and the partners were very pleased and felt you should be rewarded for bringing them in.” Susan beamed at her, then said she actually was in a meeting and just wanted to get this check to Nicole. “See you later,” Susan smiled and winked, then headed off.

Nicole stared at the check. Christ, she thought, this was turning out better than expected, stressful or not. Suddenly making up her mind, she stood up and left her office.

It was a warm June day so she needed no coat. She walked briskly the two blocks to her bank; deposited all the money and put two thousand against her Wells Fargo Visa and cleared another card completely; she did this quickly as she did not want to risk losing her nerve.

Walking back to the office, she felt better, although she could not decide which was more stressful, the debt collectors or Ms. Smith.


Meaghan finished tying Susan’s ankle to the bedpost and stood by the bed, looking at Miss N for directions. Nicole meanwhile was looking at the naked body now tied spread-eagle on her cover. Nicole waggled her finger and Meaghan came immediately to her and knelt. “Stand,” Nicole commanded, then reached down and pulled the panties, which she had stuffed into Meaghan’s vagina ten minutes ago, out.

She held them to Susan’s nose for a moment, then stuffed them into her mouth. Next, she took the two vibrating eggs, one large, one small, from the night table and inserted them into Susan’s vagina and anus. She moved the power to mid for both and immediately Susan began to move her hips.

Nicole smiled, “Come slave,” she instructed Meaghan, ”we will let the lovely Susan cook for a bit and then return for some more fun.”

They went into the small living room of Nicole’s modest two bedroom apartment. When Nicole sat, Meaghan brought her wine to her and knelt by her feet. After a moment, Nicole noticed her slave looking with interest at the small bookcase. “What is it, Slave?” She murmured.

Meaghan smiled shyly. “Oh, just the, um bookcase. You have books…”


“Well, none of my friends have books; well, maybe a couple of story books left from grade school or whatever, but no one buys actual books….”

“I like books.” Nicole said simply. “I like actual, physical books.”

“May I look at them?”

Nicole laughed. “You haven’t looked at them already?”

“No, Miss. I don’t look at your things. Not without permission.”

“Well,” Nicole smiled, “you have my permission.”

Meaghan stood at the bookcase, pulling one book out after another; looking at the cover and putting it back. “Ha,” she called holding up a bright paperback, “Alice In Wonderland. I like this story. Johnny Depp, hey?”

Nicole stood and came over. “I know this from the Walt Disney movies.”

“Disney, as in Disneyland?” Meagan asked.

Nicole laughed. “Yeah, he had a television show and all these movies, you know. Alice In Wonderland was a cartoon. My aunt, who looked after me a lot, had all the Disney cassettes.”


“Forget it, doesn’t matter. But I watched those things like ten times each. Loved Alice, though.” Nicole had opened up the book and was reading. “My God, this brings back things. Here, this is the Cheshire Cat. I would pretend sometimes that I was the cat.” She smiled, then read, “Alice says, I was just wondering if you could help me find my way. And the Cat goes, well that depends on where you want to get to, then Alice says it really doesn’t matter, and the Cat goes, then it really doesn’t matter which way you go. Hmmmm. Fuck, it’s been a lonnnnng time,” she uttered quietly.

Meaghan stood looking at her mistress, who was still lost in thought. Nicole finally murmured, “Can you help me find my way….”

(End of Chapter 04)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 3 Within Yourself You Find The Road

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 03 Within Yourself You Find the Road 

As Susan drove home, her mind was in turmoil. A week ago she was a conservative lawyer, wife and mother, leading an uneventful life as she closed in on her fortieth birthday.

Today, she was driving home with her breasts (when Nicole had said ‘tits’, Susan’s heart had jumped) held by a harness; her pubic area now completely shaved, and more importantly, with the agreement she made from her knees as she licked the expensive shoes of a twenty-nine year old junior associate, that she would serve her as her sex toy. This service would include dressing how her…mistress, requested and performing sexually when commanded.

Her private or slave (that term excited her greatly) name would be Sweet Sue, and her mistress was Miss N. And rather than being bewildered or anxious, or ‘coming to her senses’ and stopping all this, Susan Koning, conservative lawyer, wife and mother, was excited and…delighted; that was the only word that came to mind. And a little giddy.

Tonight Nicole had not fucked her; it had been touching, and spanking and commanding, with some humiliation. Susan had absorbed it all with desire, and when Miss N had finally, skillfully, played that desire out and into a mind-wrenching climax, Susan had just lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking she had died and gone to heaven. There would be no stopping this. Susan wanted more; and more.

The next step needed to be dealing with Roland. Kind-hearted, silly, ridiculous comb-over Roland. Nicole was getting the settlement together but Susan knew she needed to be the one to break the news, and end the relationship. Then she could start anew.

Then she could dedicate herself totally to…Miss N.


Back in New York, Louis Doukas was interested in some news seeping out of Serbia. Chaos was not welcome to businessmen generally, but occasionally it provided certain opportunities. Doukas’s associates in Eastern Europe had taken advantage of several situations to move in and plunder. Sometimes there was an opportunity to acquire valuables like paintings or gold. Maybe drugs. For a while now the opportunity was with women, and Serbia was the proverbial gold mine. Albania as well, and Doukas had multiple contacts in both countries as well as his home country of Greece; although Doukas hadn’t lived in Greece since he was five.

One associate in Serbia now had up to seventy women that could be available. Doukas was interested but cautious. On one hand, one needed to always be alert to traps. Interpol, the FBI and others had sniffed around Doukas a few times; the raid in Philadelphia had rattled him. On the other hand, some deals were too good to be true so one should not get one’s hopes up. This business demanded caution and preparation.

There was also the question of what kind of women we were discussing. Doukas only dealt in young women, between sixteen and twenty-four. He wasn’t interested in worn out or second hand, as he termed them, for anything he did from videos and photos to ‘hostesses’. The girls needed to be young, end of story. He would have Manos, his right hand woman in Europe, investigate. She was the best and one tough dude, regardless of her gender.


As Meaghan waited at the light, she checked her cell; she would be able to make the gym by three. She had gone in Tuesday and changed her plan, allowing her five days a week access. Yesterday she had had a very busy day and had not made it for a workout. As an independent courier, Meaghan worked freelance for several delivery companies; some days she was busy, some days not. She only made money when she delivered, and yesterday had been great, so she could ease up a little today, which meant heading for the gym.

She had a good feeling about today.


Susan ran her tongue along the black dress shoe of Miss N. She was on her knees in her office; each day this week she had been used, right here in the same place, by her mistress. Right now, with her skirt off and her thong pulled down, and her back to the door, if anyone were to open it they would have a perfect view of ‘Sweet Sue’s ass and genitals. “Reach back and spread your butt, Slave.”

“Yes, Miss N.” Susan responded and reached around, stretching her buttocks open as wide as she could.

“I should call Dani to bring me some files here, that would be fun, wouldn’t it, Sue?” Nicole actually fantasized about doing just that; some day she would.

Susan’s heart pounded stridently at this suggestion. She had difficulty getting out her response. “Whatever Miss N wants is wonderful to me.”

Nicole smiled. She could not believe how perfect a slave-toy Susan was turning out to be. “I would like to take you places, my slave; show off that lovely, slim body of yours, but that will have to wait. You are going to work out today? You may look at me now, you’ve licked my shoes like a good slave.”

Susan looked up into Nicole’s attractive, smiling face and felt the exhilaration bubbling through her once again. “Yes, Miss. I will be able to leave soon.” Susan paused and looked down. “I wish I could come to you later.”

Nicole smiled warmly down upon her submissive. “Well, that’s fine. We have tomorrow set and we’ll have lots of fun then. I promise.” With that, Nicole got up and opened the door. Susan scrambled to her feet and quickly pulled up her thong and slipped on her skirt, her vagina longing for attention.                     ****

Meaghan had been working out for about half an hour and was now on the treadmill when an attractive woman caught her eye. She was pretty sure the woman had been in before, but she wasn’t what one would call a regular. Meaghan noted the slim build; the woman’s muscular legs were visible as she wore shorts. The legs reached up to a decidedly spank-able butt.

The woman looked to be a business type, late thirties or early forties; just Meaghan’s type. She smiled to herself; she still felt good about today and maybe soon she would be feeling even better.


Nicole looked up as Dani came into her area, looking a little uncertain.

“Hey, what is it, kid?” Nicole asked, taking her eyes off the complicated document she had been labouring over. It was a detailed stake out report the police had submitted, and some things didn’t add up. Nicole pressed her palms against her eyes for a moment and focused up at her assistant.

“There’s a…lady here to see you. She has no appointment but said it won’t take long and you would be interested.”

“Did she happen to mention why I would be interested?” Nicole queried, interested but also on guard.

“No, she just gave me this.” Dani handed Nicole a business card with Dionysus Global Transportation Systems, an image of an owl and the name, Ms. O. Smith on it.

“Hmmmm, Ms. Smith, hey?” Nicole grinned at Dani. “Well, let’s see what this, Ms. Smith, wants.” Nicole stood.

“I’ve put her in the small meeting room.”

“Thanks, Dani.” Nicole headed out the arched common area entrance and down the hall, stopping at the second door, then knocking quickly and entering.

Olivia Sheffield, looking dark and burly, rose to meet the youthful lawyer. “Ms. Martin,” Nicole smiled,

extending her hand.

“Ms. Smith,” Sheffield also smiled, but like Doukas, the smile was thin and did not reach the woman’s dark eyes. Her grip was powerful and made Nicole wince.

Introductions dealt with, Nicole looked up slightly at the bulky, somewhat intimidating presence; although the hint of an Irish accent seemed to mitigate the impression slightly. “Please sit, Ms. Smith. Now, how can I help you?”

Sheffield smiled again and paused. “It is more a case, Miss Martin, of how I can help you.”


Meaghan managed to extend her time and finally left for the showers when she noticed the attractive woman looking at her watch.

When Susan Koning entered the change area, Meaghan was standing and undressed. Susan was interested because of how this young woman was…adorned; starting with her head, where the left side was shaved and the remaining hair was a green / blonde combination. Looking at her pubic patch, which was a two inch by three inch triangle, her original hair was light blonde.

Then, if one came close, one saw a nostril ring, an eyebrow stud, three gold rings on each earlobe and, most intriguing, a silver ring through the hood of the clitoris. Even from farther back, one saw a sleeve tat covering most of the right arm (my favorite authors, Meaghan would announce) a rose tattoo situated between the belly-button (studded) and the dark labia majora and its deep furrow. On the girl’s back, its wing tips descending onto the buttocks, sat a large butterfly tat. One last tattoo, a scorpion, rested on the left ankle.

“Like ‘em?” Meaghan asked, smiling at Susan, who stood, staring.

Susan smiled back, “Sorry, yes. I am fascinated, but as you can see,” she quickly undressed, and stood naked as

well. “I have no decorations.”

“Come on,” Meaghan held out her hand and the two women entered the shower together. As soon as they were inside, Meaghan dropped to her knees and began kissing Susan’s newly shaved pubis. Susan laughed softly and then gently lifted Meaghan up.

“I think you and I want the same thing, I don’t even know your name….”


“Meaghan. I need to be on my knees too.” Susan smiled. It was amazing to her that she could be standing and talking to a stranger, completely naked, about this. How much had changed in a week!

Meaghan laughed, “Wanna grab a coffee?”

Susan, amazingly (to her), said yes. She actually wanted to sit and chat with this young woman, who seemed a lot like herself (minus all the piercings and tattoos). They both got busy and showered.


Nicole sat in contemplation. Before her on the oak meeting room table was an envelope containing one thousand dollars; left by Ms. Smith, who knew a great deal about the young lawyer, starting with her serious money problems; hence the envelope with the cash.

This money was Nicole’s, whatever she chose to do. But Smith made it clear there would be a lot more if Nicole proved helpful. Her first task, if she agreed, would be to find the names of three ‘at risk’ female teens, preferably sixteen or seventeen years of age. Girls who had been in several foster homes; girls with police convictions, sealed in most cases but there none the less, if one was creative and persistent. Girls who had run away and were now in state care.

Ms. Smith did not elaborate on why she and her…transport company, had an interest in girls, but she did mention that the Dionysus Global company would become a client with David van der Strom, Criminal Law,

and the annual billing would be substantial.

Nicole would find out the next day that this was true; Dionysus was a very large, international company, and the partners were excited when Nicole brought this account in. No one inquired as to how a junior lawyer had scored this, it was accepted after investigation, and Nicole received praise.

For right now however, she mulled over her options, and then put the envelope in her handbag. She would put some money down on the two most laggard credit card companies to whom she owed money; that should keep them off her back for a bit. And she would look into this girl thing; what was the harm in investigating?


Susan sat with a coffee and Meaghan with a Frappuccino, chatting away like old pals. Susan was interested in Meaghan’s stories of submission, which she freely shared with her, Susan even venturing forth some personal thoughts on her own submissive desires, long hidden and now brought out by her…mistress.

It was clear that Susan was correct in her assessment; both women were the same in their sexual needs. Both felt comfortable and aroused by being dominated by certain kinds of women. Meaghan liked women like, well, Susan. Only dominant.

Susan liked someone attractive and confident and demanding; like Nicole. Meaghan expressed an interest in meeting Nicole; maybe she wanted another toy?

After they parted, with each having the other’s cell numbers, Susan now faced the task of heading home and confronting Roland. It filled her with anxiety and some sadness, but also hope. She knew she needed to cut this tie to be free and to move forward, and Hailey was certainly old enough now to handle this. Her father would still be in her life, probably as much as he was now, which wasn’t all that much.

Susan walked the two blocks to her parking garage and her car. She climbed into her Lexus and started out.

It was time.


Sheffield ended her call; she had just updated Doukas and received her next instructions. The man would be returning to Philadelphia tomorrow, bringing Patterson with him. Patterson was Doukas’s video guy; the only male on his inner staff. Being gay mitigated in his favor, but also his talent with this particular subject, girl-on-girl, especially these girls, some still in their teens.

Simmons did the still shots; Patterson the videos; it had been successful now for two years, although again Sheffield did not see the value against the risk.

Oh well, it wasn’t her decision; she had her tasks and she was efficient in dealing with them.

She looked now at the girl, naked and bound, on her knees beside her. This girl was not street tough, the fear in her eyes showed that. She was also brown. “Pakistani?” Sheffield had asked to a positive nod from her supplier. The girl sported a substantial bush, and Sheffield needed to clear that away tonight. This girl would be one of the two in tomorrow’s video, and it was Sheffield’s job to ‘get her ready’, which mostly involved breaking her down to compliance.

As Doukas directed the action, the girls needed to be responsive and cooperative. This girl needed to learn that submission was far more pleasant than resistance.

Sheffield sipped her tea; she was in no hurry. She had all night, after all.


Susan entered her lovely Chestnut Hill residence; a home nestled in a community for people with a certain level of income. She liked her home; it had been her choice and pretty much all the furnishings and décor were of her choosing; Roland had just gone along as always.

She took off coats etcetera and placed her briefcase on

the desk in the den/office just off the main living space. She mixed herself a gin and tonic (she loved old fashioned drinks) and headed into the main living room when she suddenly became aware that Roland was there, sitting quietly by the picture window. Their home on Valley View Road was close to a heavily wooded area; it was peaceful to simply sit and look at it.

“Hey, you’re home. What’s up?” Susan asked conversationally; it was very unusual that he was home before her. Roland put in very long hours in his assistant manager position, knowing that at his age (approaching fifty) he was vulnerable for replacement. It was why he agreed to be on the road ten to fifteen days a month and why he worked ten-hour days.

When Roland turned to face her, Susan saw a sadness in his eyes that bothered her; had he somehow found out about her dalliances? No, that was impossible, she shook off the thought and Roland smiled a small smile. Looking closely at him now; (she couldn’t remember the last time she had looked closely at him), she became aware that his face was thinner. He still had the large rear end and the gut that spilled over the tops of his pants (Mr. Muffin top, Hailey called him), but his face was thin. And sallow, Susan noted.

“Good evening, Dear.” Roland said in a quiet voice. “I was just enjoying a moment here. The trees are really splendid this year. I like it, I um….” He paused, and Susan waited, her drink in her hand, concerned and not sure why.

“What is it, Roland?” she asked, quietly as well. The house was quiet; everything seemed subdued.

“I, um, have some things to tell you, and they are not easy things, but I was just sitting here, thinking on how and suddenly here you are….” He paused and gave a small, crooked smile up at her; Susan continued to just stare at him, confused at what he was sharing.

Now Roland stared as well, and then swallowing hard and looking away, he started, “I wasn’t away on business this past week, I was at the Einstein Healthcare Centre, undergoing tests and confirming what my, um, doctor, feared. We’ve kind of known for a while but I wanted to be completely sure before saying anything….”

In the still early evening, here in their lovely home, Susan stood, swaying slightly, because she had connected Roland’s rambling dots. “What…kind of cancer is it?” she asked, in a soft but husky voice.

“L-liver,” Roland said in a whisper, tears creeping down his face. “But it has metastasized….”

“Oh Roland….”

“And, um, well, that’s pretty much the story, not much to…ummmmm.” He had buried his face in his hands. Susan came and rested her hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“What will you do?” She asked.

“I, um, need to go tonight. They are waiting. Not sure how much time. Don’t know what to say to, um, Hailey….”

Silence settled on them.


“Fuck.” Nicole said bluntly. “I don’t even know Roland, and I was preparing your divorce from him, but that still sucks the bag, big time, Susan. Cancer. Jesus.” Nicole and Susan were sitting in one of the meeting rooms; Susan thought it more appropriate than her office, which had become a ‘Sweet Sue’ space. They had of course planned to be together tonight for an extended session; Susan had been looking forward to it eagerly, but this development had put a damper on things.

Susan wasn’t going to get all weepy, even though she was filled with sadness. She was not a hypocrite; she didn’t love Roland; she didn’t even really like him anymore. But she still cared for him, and she was his wife, and they had a daughter. If word came that the end was imminent, she felt the obligation to be there.

The two women sat in silence. “I still would like to

come to you tonight. I really want to…serve you, Miss N. I really do. I think about that much of the time. If you are good with me leaving if I get a call I’m prepared to come to you.”

Nicole smiled and reached over, stroking Susan’s face gently. “I was planning on using you hard tonight.”

Susan grimaced slightly, an electric jolt thrilling her. “Um, oh God. That is what I want.”

“You want to be on your knees for me.”

Susan looked directly at Nicole, right in her eyes, heat rising within her. “I want to be on my knees, Miss N.”

“You want me to punish you and fuck you.” Nicole whispered, a small smile on her lips.

Susan clinched her hands together, afraid she would lose control right there in the meeting room. “Oh, Jesus, I want you to punish me and fuck me. I wish I could be with you all weekend, serving you; you using me as you wished.”

“Ok, Sweets, let’s plan for tonight, and see where it goes. What’s happening with your daughter?”

“She’s obviously sad, but kind of spaced out. Death is not real to the young, I think. She is staying with a friend tonight. I had already arranged that and we see no need to change anything. She, um…she doesn’t want to see her father die, and Roland doesn’t want her to see him at all, but to remember him as he was.”

Nicole stroked Susan’s hand, gently for a moment. “Hey, let’s talk about something else for a bit, there is work to do. I have a question.”

Nicole then probed quietly, she didn’t want to raise any suspicions with Susan, who was still her boss of sorts, despite their relationship. She asked about a case Susan had worked on a few months back involving a pimp. And, yes, Susan replied that information about some of his girls was in their files and had not been released because of their ages.

“Why do you ask?” Susan wondered.

“Oh, nothing special, just something else I’m working on that is kind of related. Don’t worry about it. Let’s get through today and hopefully we will have time together tonight.”

“Right.” Susan agreed with a strained smile. “Oh, and by the way, I met an interesting girl.” Here Susan told Nicole about Meaghan; Nicole was interested.

“You need to maintain contact with her; I would definitely like to meet this girl.” Nicole remarked.

The two women then rose and went back to their individual spaces, both glancing at the clock on their way.


“Ok, number one, grind your hips slowly. Number two, stick your tongue out more. That’s it. Let her ride your tongue. Very good; verrrry gooood.” Patterson enthused, getting into his work. Number one was the brown girl, prepared effectively last night by the efficient Sheffield. Number two was a red-headed white girl.

The white girl was barely eighteen while the brown girl’s papers said she was nineteen, which Sheffield had a difficult time accepting, and both had been shaved and made to appear even younger. They were currently in a sixty-nine position as Patterson circled them with his camera.

Louis Doukas sat on the nearby couch cloaked in his usual shadow, watching the scene with interest. He had prepared the script himself; what the girls would do and even say; how they would pose and expose themselves. What they would do with each other and when. Patterson was adept at working with Doukas and his scripts; he only wished that occasionally Doukas would bring in a boy or two.

Doukas looked up as Sheffield came to his side and then handed him a sheet of paper. “It’s from Ms. Martin,” she said without emotion.

Doukas looked at the paper; it contained three names. Three names of girls who might ‘fit his needs’. Doukas smiled. “You have begun to check this out?”

“Of course, sir.” Sheffield replied evenly.

Doukas smiled and watched as the two girls mashed their youthful, bald vaginas together, both moaning; amazingly, they were both into it. Patterson had a large smile on his bearded face as he moved in for a close-up.

Doukas looked up at Sheffield from the couch and waggled the piece of paper. “My first boss, a man named Gabe Kantos, used to say that a capable man builds his own road.”

Sheffield stood for a moment, uncertain as to the correct response. “And, did you believe that?” She asked, hesitantly.

“I don’t know.” Doukas replied, finishing his vodka. “Kantos was an asshole. He was the first man I ever killed; I guess, in some ways, what he believed, was true.” He smiled.


Susan rode the elevator up to Nicole’s floor, aroused more than she could ever remember. Easing her conscience, she had spoken to Roland’s doctor; her husband was sedated and resting. They did not think anything would happen tonight. She would go and see him tomorrow.

As instructed, Susan stripped completely outside Nicole’s door, and then knocked and went to her knees. Three other apartments were on this floor, and someone could come or go at any moment, so this was exquisite torture for Susan, kneeling naked and completely exposed.

When Nicole finally opened the door, Susan could actually feel evidence of her arousal dripping down her thigh.

“Come in, slave.” Nicole murmured, and Susan crawled

past the expensive shoes and into the room.


(End of Chapter 03)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 2 A Fork Stuck In The Road

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 02 A Fork Stuck in the Road

Doukas placed the cell phone on the desk. It was one of four and he was putting this one back in its place. They were in a particular order, so as to avoid confusion. Certain phones were only for certain people, or certain…business.

The one he had just been using was for several of his associates back in New York City. The associate he had just spoken with was reporting that they now had eight young women in the house they used to ‘store’ them in before Doukas instructed them as to their destinations. These eight were destined for Miami, but he needed four more; that had been the order. Twelve girls; fifty grand.

As Sheffield often pondered, Doukas’s legitimate operations in the states brought in over two million dollars U.S. a month. This fifty thousand, while significant to the average Jane or Joe, was chicken feed to Doukas; and came at great risk. Human trafficking was a nasty business and law enforcement and the media were easily aroused by it.

For Doukas however, this was the business he liked the most. He had toiled in the drug trade; if you want big money drugs were the ticket; but it had done nothing for him. He still dabbled when necessary, but it bored him. Money laundering was still one of his side trades. Girls however were the one thing that never bored him. And he had witnessed firsthand what leverage young women could provide; what doors they could open; what influential people they could bring to one’s side (or under one’s thumb).

To Louis Doukas, young women were the most desirable commodity on the planet, and although he had never sampled the wares (good advice from his first drug supplier) he loved the benefits. He loved watching young women complying to sexual commands. He loved seeing them compromised and prepared to do whatever they were told, no matter how disgusting, because all other choices had been taken from them, leaving them with only one choice; whatever was needed to survive.

Louis Doukas had learned long ago that people could be made to do just about anything in order to survive. He liked what that meant.

At that moment, the ever dutiful Sheffield brought him his morning coffee.


The cell phone on her counter chirped with an incoming call. Nicole looked at the microwave clock and noted 11:30, then glanced at the phone; it read Susan K; and Nicole smiled.

“Hey there, Mrs. Koning.” Nicole purred into her cell, a smile on her face.

There was a pause before Susan began. “That’s funny Nicole, but I really, really don’t want you calling me…that.” She laughed.

Nicole laughed too. This phone call was a great sign; not unexpected, but she was happy with it. “Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be coming up with a cute pet name for you before too long.” Nicole said with a smirk. “So, how are you feeling? Hubby home yet?”

Another pause. “No, um, no; he isn’t back until Tuesday.”

“Ummm, that’s ok, right?” Nicole had no idea what sort of marriage Susan had, but from her performance last night there was definitely something missing.

“Yeah. I don’t want to bore you with the details of my married life….”

“Don’t worry about that, sweet Susan. I’d like to know what’s going on. You can share with me; you really can. I want you to….”

They talked for a few minutes along these lines and the conversation confirmed, very clearly, what Nicole had

already surmised. Susan’s marriage to Roland (Roland? “Anyone call him Rolly?” Nicole inquired. “Only his mom”, was Susan’s reply) was dead. They had been in separate bedrooms for two years now. Roland was a kind-hearted man but whatever attraction had been there, years ago, was long dead. Only daughter Hailey had kept Susan in it.

“So, never thought about hooking up with someone?”

Pause once again. Susan was a lawyer to her core; she always deliberated before speaking. “Um, well, yes I have. Thought seriously more than once. I came close last year to meeting one of the greens-keepers at the golf club after hours; young, attractive, athletic guy. But I chickened out last minute. Just afraid for my daughter. I don’t know….” Susan’s voice trailed off.

“But I suppose you never thought you’d get it on with another woman, hey?” Nicole smiled into her phone.

“No,” Susan laughed. “Well, not exactly.” She had fantasized about making love to another woman; more than once, actually. But the thought of really doing it, that was different. Astounding…really. Unbelievable, in fact.

Susan then related her upbringing, in an emotionally empty home with two religious and controlling parents.

“They believed any sex, anything, including self-stimulation, that didn’t involve the goal to make babies, to be a sin. Homosexuality of course was a damnable sin. Right straight to Hell.” Susan chuckled, softly, but the memories were not pleasant.

“I think I jumped at marriage with Roland to be free of them. I was already estranged from them and putting myself through college; racking up debts as well. Roland had a decent and steady job. He supported me then; I probably have always felt grateful to him. But years have passed and I now make five times his take home. And there’s nothing here for me, really. Nothing. In fact, I have grown to actually dislike him, or at least I dislike being around him.”

There was a pause now as Susan collected herself. Maybe she had revealed too much, but Nicole was easy to talk to. For her part, Nicole was good with Susan opening up. Everything she revealed fit with Nicole’s plans.

“Have you thought of leaving him, Susan?”

Pause; seconds ticked by. Susan’s voice was subdued when she spoke. “Yes, I have. Would you believe, every day. That’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“No.” Nicole said bluntly. “It’s not. It’s called being realistic.”


Glen Farner’s cell lit up, and since it was his other phone, he answered it. “Mr. X., Farner here.” He said, his anxiety rising. The man on the other end always affected him that way.

“Farner. I think you know why I’m calling.” Louis Doukas said quietly in his most velvet of voices. Doukas was an individual that the quieter he became, the more threatening was the message.

“Uh, ya-ummm, Mr. X. I’ve found three girls so far and I have a line on a fourth.”

Silence followed, an ominous silence, at least to Farner. As an independent lawyer, he had adjusted by accepting all sorts of clients; drug dealers, pimps, securing bonds for the accused who couldn’t post their own, ambulance chasing; Farner had twice in his career actually followed an ambulance to the hospital.

‘Pride’s great, but you gotta eat,’ was his favorite line. So it was not really surprising that he would come to the attention of someone like Louis Doukas. And since Doukas paid very well, Farner held his nose and did some unpleasant things, like his current task of finding four women to complete Doukas’s Miami sale, even if he didn’t know what would happen to the girls, although he certainly had his ideas.

This was the third group Farner had put together so far for Mr. X.; and the added benefit each time was that

Farner could choose one of the girls to have sex with before they were shipped off. That mattered to him. Farner was the sort of guy who had trouble finding girls to have sex with, if he wasn’t paying.

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours, Farner. Twenty-four, not twenty-five. I pay very well, my young friend, but I expect top service. We are clear, yes?”

“Ye-yes, sir. Mr X., we are clear and I’m on it sir, you can cou….”

But the line had already gone dead.


As Susan drove Hailey to her softball game, the talk with Nicole played over in her mind like a loop, interrupted occasionally by a comment or question from her daughter. Susan pushed down the disappointment of not being able to see Nicole today (she couldn’t believe how strong the pull was) by being happy that her teenage daughter was still interested in sports.

She would drive Hailey wherever and whenever and for however long, if it meant she had a life away from all the temptations and traps out in the world. Glancing at her daughter, she was reminded again that Hailey was no longer a girl, she was now a young woman. A young woman who was pretty and had an attractive figure; she knew Hailey had friends, boys and girls, and she wondered some time (well, often) what they did. She could ask of course; but Hailey would likely run for the hills before telling her lawyer-mom anything.


Farner had been spurred into action by his last conversation with the man. Girls didn’t just hang from trees, he argued to himself. How come Mr. X. didn’t seem to understand that; that these things took time? But feeling the pressure, Farner decided to take a risk. He usually planned it so any targeted girl would be isolated and completely vulnerable; that was the part that took planning and time.

He had decided now to push his agenda forward, his

target was a troubled senior, seventeen or eighteen, who had come to his attention through a source at the family court. He had now tracked her to a sketchy part of town and had added some muscle in the form of ‘Mojo’ Snipes. The two were going to grab the girl tonight.


At 11:00 AM Sunday morning, Nicole’s phone chirped again.

“Hi sweet Sus.” Nicole purred; she was feeling good.

“Good morning, Nicole. I hope you’re not bugged that I keep calling?”

“No, no, absolutely, no. I told you and I mean it. Call me. Talk to me. Friday night was not a one-time thing. I mean that.”

The next twenty minutes were spent in a combination of girl to girl; worker to worker; and lawyer to lawyer talk. Susan was a white collar crimes lawyer; Nicole was a criminal defense lawyer; neither were divorce lawyers but they still knew lots. They didn’t work out the whole thing right then, but they decided on a process that Susan could now begin, and hopefully her unhappy and unsatisfying marriage could be terminated with the least emotional damage possible, and fairly soon.

“Thank you, Nicole. I can’t believe all that we have shared in the last couple of days. I need to get going, Hailey has a drama rehearsal today.” Susan paused here, considering her words. “I really wish I could come over to see you.”

Nicole smiled. “Hey there partner, what would we do?”

Susan chuckled, “Really?”

“Yeah,” Nicole continued, “this is new to you. I’d like to know what you are thinking. I want you to be specific, no guessing here. What would happen if you came to my apartment right now?”

Susan laughed now with some embarrassment. This was

actually daunting, putting her desires into words, but Nicole persisted and Susan found her courage.

“Well, we would kiss, and take off our clothes, and take turns licking and kissing our, um, special places….”

“Our cunts…”

“Nicole, that’s a little gross….” Susan protested.

“No, sweets, we are being clear. You want to kiss my cunt. Say it.”

Susan was amazed at the growing heat between her legs as this conversation became graphic. She would have loved to jump in her vehicle and charge over to Nicole’s. “Yes, I would kiss your…cunt.”

“And lick it until I was satisfied. Say it.”

“I would, um, lick your c-cunt until you were satisfied.”

“Because you want to please me.”

Oh, God. Oh, God, Susan thought, Oh, Jesus. “Uh, yes, um, shit. I want to please you. I want to. Fuck. This is crazy Nicole, I can’t believe how hot I am.”

Nicole smiled more. “And you want me to lick your cunt. Say it.”

“Ohhh, fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Ummm, yes, I want you to lick my cunt. Fuck!!”

“And you want to put your tongue in my ass. Say it, sweet Susan.”

Susan’s hand had gone to her crotch, and she was massaging the fabric of her slacks over her vagina. “I want to put my tongue up your ass. Oh, Jesus, I do. I want to spread your legs and suck you like crazy.”

There was silence now, with just Susan’s heavy breathing as she continued to squeeze and fondle herself, certain a climax was building.

“Are you touching yourself right now, Susan?” Nicole asked, still smiling broadly. She already was certain

of the answer.

“Um, ah, oh jeez, uh, yes, I am, Nicole.” Susan managed to stammer out, close to coming.

“Stop.” Nicole commanded, quietly.


“Stop touching yourself. I did not give you permission, and if you want this, us, to continue, you need to do what I say. So stop.”

Not sure why, but feeling unbelievably aroused, Susan paused, her fingers resting between her legs. She could feel the warmth there, as well as her pussy lips.

“Ask me for permission, Susan.” Nicole’s voice was warm, seductive, beckoning, compelling.

With her heart pounding and desire coursing through her like a wild mountain stream, Susan found her own voice. “Please, um, N-Nicole. May I touch myself?”

There was a pause. “No. Not until I see you tomorrow. And I will know, Susan, if you do and then, that will be that. I will let you have wonderful pleasure tomorrow, with me. Do you understand?”

Feeling overwhelmed and almost drugged, Susan agreed in a voice like a whimper.

Nicole continued in her calm, quiet way. “You need to go, Susan. So we will see each other tomorrow, but on one condition. You are not to wear a bra. That is my command to you. If you wear a bra tomorrow, then that will be your decision to end whatever we have started. Have a good day, sweet one, and I am looking forward to seeing you.”

“But, um, Nicole, I don’t understand….”

“Nothing to understand, Susan. It’s just about feelings and emotions and desire. It’s all there for you; you just have to do what I ask. See you tomorrow.” The call ended and Susan sat, staring at the phone, her hand still resting between her thighs. But she obeyed.


At five o’clock Monday morning, one of Doukas’s phones awoke him. He was a very light sleeper, so it took only the vibration on the end table. But the call set off a chain of events.

5:15: Doukas, using phone number two, contacted his ‘stash’ house and confirmed they now had four girls; he instructed them to get the girls out now and head for the coast.

7:00: Phone three caller alerts Doukas that the ‘stash’ house was raided an hour after the clear-out, but that Glen Farner had been detained for questioning as one of his business cards had been left behind in the house. From the adjoining room, Sheffield heard her boss curse, something he rarely did, and wondered what was up.

Also at seven, Susan Koning, after a restless night that saw her up way earlier than usual, arrived at her office; only office manager Dalton beat her there. Susan gets to work and helps Dalton get the coffee going.

7:20 Doukas, using phone two, calls one of the three Philly police officers in his employ.

8:00 Phone three caller alerts Doukas that Farner has been rushed to Temple Medical centre.

Also at eight, Nicole Martin arrives at the law office and goes directly to her own area. She is full of anticipation but after getting herself a cup of Earl Grey, focuses on the three current cases on her desk.

8:30 Phone two alerts Doukas that Glen Farner has died of an apparent heart attack. Five minutes later, phone number four had the message that the girls, transferred from the large truck to a van, were in Atlantic City. The first truck was now headed for Buffalo.

Doukas let out a long sigh and looked up as Sheffield brought in a tray; room service had brought breakfast. “After we eat, we check out.” Doukas said, in an even tone; but Sheffield’s knowing eye detected an agitation, something had clearly upset the man this morning. “Oh, and we will need a new lawyer here in Philly.” Doukas remarked without emotion.

“Mr. Farner is….”

Doukas held up a fork, looking a little like an orchestra conductor. His smile showed his even, white teeth. “Mr. Farner is no longer with us.” He said simply, and went back to his scrambled eggs.


Meaghan Browning manoeuvered her bicycle through the Monday traffic. She had one delivery and then she would be off to the gym. Weekends, where she could only jog, left her wanting more. She pushed herself to get to her destination; she really wanted, needed, to get to the gym; she had a good feeling that today would be positive.


At eleven o’clock, after forcing herself to work on necessary things, taking several phone calls and stopping herself twice from going to Nicole’s cubicle, Susan looked up as her door opened. She couldn’t believe her reaction; her heart was pounding again and she suddenly felt light-headed. And the familiar heat returned between her thighs, as Nicole Martin entered her office.

“Morning, sweet one,” Nicole murmured, closing the door and coming to stand behind Susan. Placing her hands on the older woman’s shoulders, Nicole turned the woman’s head and kissed her long and searchingly on her mouth. Susan opened her mouth and accepted the invading tongue with eagerness, moaning lowly and wanting desperately to spread her legs.

Positioning Susan forward again, Nicole removed the woman’s suit jacket and reached around, cupping the breasts.

“MMmmmm, that’s a very good girl,” Nicole purred, kissing Susan’s neck and squeezing the modest, perky breasts, free of any bra. “Miss N will be giving her favorite toy a special treat later today.” She whispered into Susan’s ear. “Be at my apartment for five-thirty.”

With one last squeeze of the breasts, Nicole slid out from behind and left, leaving Susan panting and frantically consulting her day timer to ensure she could be at Nicole’s as directed.

For a moment she thought about squeezing her hand into her over-heated sex, but she didn’t. She would be obedient to Nicole and she would be rewarded.


Meaghan ended her session with some time on the rowing machine. It had been a great workout and she had worked up a good sweat. Once in the shower she lingered; a couple of women had entered but no one came into the actual shower area. Just as she was about to turn off the shower, a petite woman, possible early forties with just a bit of extra weight around her tummy, came in, taking a spot four showerheads over.

Meaghan tried her dropping the soap routine but not a wink from the woman, who showered efficiently and headed out to get dressed. Meaghan followed her, eying her body and the thick pubic patch exposed just before her conservative, middle-aged white panties came up to cover everything. This woman wasn’t a possibility. Damn, Meaghan thought, this month she had scored with just the one lady and that had not gone anywhere; she had not seen that woman back here since.

Although she didn’t like going to the bar to meet women, Meaghan considered that for tonight; she felt like she was going to explode. She also decided, as she slung her backpack over her shoulder, that she would start coming to the gym every day; it wouldn’t take much to increase her gym plan. She could handle it; she really wanted to increase her odds at finding partners. Or the right partners.


Doukas picked up phone number four and read the text message. The boat had docked and the cargo was loaded and on its way. In just a few hours that group of girls would be working in two private clubs, and then spending the night in cages after servicing ten or twelve men each. By this time next week the routine would have set in along with the realization that they were trapped.

A month from now they would have ‘the eyes of the dead’ as Doukas referred to the vacant stare that these girls developed. By then of course they would be getting daily drug rations to keep them functioning. Doukas poured himself a shot of vodka and toasted the empty chair across from him. “To business,” he said, and downed his glass.


It was almost four-thirty when Nicole’s cell phone chirped. She rarely got calls on it when at work so this surprised her.

“Miss Nicole Martin?” the voice inquired, and the hairs immediately went up on the back of Nicole’s neck. She knew who this was, or at least what it was about, and she was angry at being contacted at work.

Nicole was a person with very expensive tastes and a limited, lawyer or not, budget. People like to think of lawyers rolling in dough, but early in their careers, lawyers start out quite modestly and usually with heavy student loans behind them. This hadn’t stopped Nicole from loading up on clothes; that was her major addiction (although she also had an expensive new car).

Nicole loved new clothes; and shoes, handbags, jewelry. All the accessories. Nicole was quite obsessed with how she looked, and her wardrobe was testament to that.

But unfortunately, so were her credit cards; all three now maxed out. The man on the line right now was from American Express, one of the two cards she hadn’t paid this month. Or last month. Two unfriendly minutes later Nicole had fought the caller off, but she knew this was not something that was going to go away by itself.

If only there was a way for her to make some more cash,

like on the side, she pondered. She forced these unpleasant thoughts from her mind by thinking about her date with Susan and what she would do with, and to, the woman.


Susan rode the elevator up to Nicole’s apartment, noting again all the physical characteristics of her arousal. She focused on controlling her breathing and hopefully that would slow down her heart rate. The light-headed feeling would likely pass once she was with Nicole.

The younger woman was awaiting her with her door open, and once inside the two women embraced warmly. Nicole took Susan’s outer coat and sat down on the couch facing her, Susan looking suddenly awkward, standing.

“I would offer you something to drink, Sweets, but I know you will be driving home soon. Besides, I want to just look at you for a minute; you must work out or something; you have kept yourself trim and attractive.” Nicole enthused.

Susan blushed a little at these compliments and acknowledged that she did go to the gym, at least twice a week, as well as jogging on weekends. Nicole asked her to turn around, slowly, which Susan did, feeling self-conscious and a little vulnerable. Nicole stood and came to Susan, removing her suit jacket, and then sitting down.

“Turn away from me Susan; good, that’s good. Now, take your blouse off. Don’t be shy, sweetie, you know you want me to see you.” Susan, with trembling fingers, unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall beside her, while remaining facing away from Nicole, who suddenly came up behind the other woman and placed a bra harness on her. It was a leather contraption that fit around Susan’s modest breasts, holding them in place but open and exposed.

Nicole reached around and began to squeeze and pull Susan’s nipples, which were actually fairly large and looked more-so on Susan’s frame. Nicole sat back down and had Susan put her hands behind her. “This is what you will wear for me, my lovely. I want to have quick access to your titties, but they need support; we don’t want to go all saggy now, do we. Ok, drop your skirt.”

Her head swimming and unaware of Nicole’s cameras recording this from three angles, Susan removed her skirt and stood with her naked and harnessed breasts above and her thong panties below on display. She suddenly became aware of her pubic bush, light brown but long and wild, that sprouted around her thong.

Nicole stood again and came behind Susan, pulling her arms behind her and binding her wrists with plastic ties. “Time for your first training session, Susan sweetie. Or Sweet-Sue, as I’m going to call you. That will be your slave name.”

At the word ‘slave’, Susan almost came.


Meaghan sat at the bar in Curly Bill’s. She had made eye contact with a couple of women but it looked like the night would be a lonely one again. She put her ear buds in and started the play list from her I-phone as she headed out and down the street. She wasn’t far from her little apartment, so she would walk.

The first song on her playlist, her favorite song, accompanied her as she walked. It was Green Day, Good Riddance (or Time of Your Life as it was better known.)

Her grade one teacher had played it on the final day of classes way back then and Meaghan had loved it; then and now. She wondered, had she ever reached a turning point in her young life so far? Twenty-two years isn’t much to work with, but she knew of friends who had been faced with choices. She thought she would like to reach a fork stuck in the road.

She really would.

(End of Chapter 02)

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A Field Of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 1 A Question of Choice

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

A candle flickers by the sea;

which glimmers now, moving

like a woman under the ever-watchful eye;

never blinking, sees all and nothing;

Witness to love, hope, despair and grief,

and the brief

but bright flare of the candle’s flame…

A thousand candles, a million

A thousand million flickering,

but when touched by the slightest restless wind

are gone.

Back to the earth,

the sea.

To darkness.

Chapter 01 A Question of Choice

“Bring the girl in.” Louis Doukas murmured in his rich, melodious voice, the slight British accent at odds with the decidedly Greek face. The pleasant tone at odds with the hardness of the eyes.

Once known as ‘The Duke’, now simply as Mr. Doukas, he was one of those shadow men, immensely wealthy but intensely private, who exist behind the machinery of civilized society. Occasionally appearing at the social events of the rich, famous and powerful, then disappearing with the ‘who was that?’ question lingering after they are gone, like smoke in the wind.

Olivia Sheffield, tall, dark, sturdy and bulldog-like, led the girl into the darkened space that served today as a studio. Claire Simmons, Doukas’s chief photographer, cast a quick and appraising glance at the girl; young, innocent, vulnerable, virginal; all the things the market, this market, demanded. The girl’s long, brunette hair framed a cute, not pretty, face. Although older, she looked like a teen.

“Good, Miss Sheffield (even after all these years, he still called her that), you may take her and dress


Doukas sipped his vodka, eyelids half-closed, thoughtful and self-contained. Simmons lit a cigarette. So few places today allowed smoking that Simmons appreciated that Doukas not only allowed it, but enjoyed the smell of smoke; even though he did not smoke himself. She glanced again at him, as he sat impassively, his thick, dark, grey-haired head leaning against the dark blue leather sofa.

Sheffield returned alone and stood, waiting. “Bring me the mother,” Doukas murmured, his voice now quiet and oddly soft. He was a man of contradictions. A man not imposing in height, but imposing in presence. Sheffield had witnessed him once slit a man’s throat with a razor and then sit impassively, the body at his feet, bleeding on the expensive carpet. Yet his voice was generally as a gentle as a mother to her babe. Contradictory – including now.

Doukas would do nothing with the girl, even though he could do whatever he wished. He was not interested in her that way. Her mother, that was a different story.

Sheffield led the woman, slim, below average height, thirties, into the space. The woman’s hair was slightly darker than her daughter’s and cut fairly short. She did not look up at her tormentor, keeping her puffy and reddened eyes averted.

Sheffield marvelled again at how her boss found these women…and why? He was a wealthy man, homes around the world, streams of legitimate money from real estate and entertainment and restaurants and pharmaceuticals poured into his numerous bank accounts, and yet he continued with these…other ventures. “My hobby….” He would say, with that smile.

A smile that showed wonderful white, even teeth; a contradiction for a man in his early sixties. Doukas was proud of his teeth and flashed them often, though his smile was generally thin and cold.

Truth be told, he enjoyed controlling people,

especially women, and he had a legion of underlings scurrying about in many cities, watching debt collectors and monitoring credit issues and police warrants. That was how this woman had been discovered and why, when business brought him now from New York to Philadelphia, he had acted on his information, interested that this pretty young woman had a daughter. It all worked so nicely.

Sheffield reached out a meaty right hand and shook the woman. “Do it.” She commanded in a voice that still held more than a hint of Ireland. The woman slowly began unbuttoning and pulling off her clothes. When she was down to her modest white bra and briefs, she paused, and as tears rolled down her face, Sheffield continued the job, efficiently tugging away the final two garments and pulling the woman’s hands behind her back. The woman’s modest breasts sat, perky, the nipples jutting out enticingly. Between the woman’s thighs a thick tangle of dark, brown hair grew wildly, starting below the vulvae and spreading upwards.

The woman was brought to Doukas’s feet and forced to her knees, as he stood and unzipped his pants. She had been prepared, warned would be a more accurate description, of what she had to do to keep her and her daughter safe; safe being a relative term. With an intense show of will power, she controlled her disgust and placed her lovely mouth onto the short, thick cock before her.

Both Simmons and Sheffield had witnessed scenes like this enough times that it wasn’t surprising to them; both knew that a warm mouth would provide quick results, and they were right, as only a few minutes of consistent back and forth stimulation had passed before the boss groaned, his knees buckling slightly, but his grip remaining firm on the dark brunette head, holding it in place.

Doukas then slouched back against the sofa, laughing softly and smiling, as the woman, following her directions, placed his shrinking penis back in its home

and zipped it in.

While the woman had swallowed as quickly as she could, the unpleasant aftertaste lingered, and she remained on her knees, breathing heavily through her nose.

Eyes closed, breathing deeply and slowly, Doukas spoke. “Bring the girl back.”


At twenty-nine, Nicole Martin was the youngest associate at the firm of David van der Strom, Criminal Law, Philadelphia. The combination of top LSAT scores and GPA had brought the young woman to the attention of both state and private firms. Being attractive and aggressive had helped as well.

Martin looked up now as one of the legal assistants brought in some files, laying them on her desk. “Thank you, Dani.” Martin murmured, glancing at the clock.

“No problem, Nick. Hate dumpin’ stuff on you at the end of the day.” Martin smiled her disarming smile back at the staffer, who continued. “Grabbing a drink tonight?”

“Anybody else going?” Martin did not fraternize much with co-workers, but she liked to stay in the loop. ‘Dani’ listed off several names and Martin nodded; she might go out for a bit after all; one of the partners was on the list. It never hurt to schmooze with the right people, and the partner named was one of only two female partners in the firm, so there was that.

“We’re going to The Twisted Tail.”

“Sounds good, thanks Dani. I’ll meet you guys there.”


Sheffield led the girl into the space lit now by two bright lights placed by Simmons. Outside the illuminated space was shadow, with Doukas settled in his element like a watchful predator. A few feet farther to his left, against a wall and now invisible in the dark, the mother, mouth taped and hands locked behind her back, was kneeling and watching her daughter.

The daughter brushed her hair back with a gesture that Doukas found attractive, but he sat in silence as Simmons directed the slender girl, her camera snapping away. The girl lowered her sweats to reveal a round ass visible completely as only a thin cotton strip nestled between her cheeks. When the girl knelt, her anal ring was faintly visible.

When she removed her tiny shirt, her bra was seen to be semi-transparent, allowing her nipples to show through.

“Sit back and spread your legs wide.” Simmons directed, and the girl’s shaved pubic area could be seen through her thin thong. It was clear that she had the same dense ‘foliage’ as her mother, but that Sheffield’s razor had been put to work.

Simmons had the girl play and pose with a rubber banana and then kneel, looking up into the camera with compelling, ‘puppy eyes’. Simmons finished by having the girl remove her thong and bra, taking several pictures of her completely naked.

She then turned to address the darkened couch, “That should do it.” She said quietly; she had probably seventy shots. Enough for both the general websites Doukas used and the private sales.

“Thank you, Ms. Simmons. I’ll await your files.”

In the darkness, the mother struggled. She was having trouble breathing as she sobbed with her mouth gagged and her nose running. Suddenly she felt a hand against her buttocks. Sheffield was behind the woman, and she then slid two fingers into the woman’s vagina from behind. It was an easy task, the woman was very wet. She shuddered now with shame and arousal.


Meaghan Browning increased the speed on the treadmill and focused on her walk, blocking out her thoughts. When she exercised in public like this, she was constantly aware of the bodies around her, all in their tight outfits; who was appraising her? Whose eyes were taking in her slim hips and ass, noting her firm if

modest breasts, with nipples straining against the fabric?

Likely no one was, but Meaghan could not shake the thought, yet she continued to come and do her daily workout. If she couldn’t make it, she truly missed it.

Looking at her timer she noted her workout was almost over, and then she saw two women heading for the locker room and possibly a shower. As if drawn by a force, Meaghan headed that way too. She had chosen a central locker, so that when she undressed she was exposed.

Now naked, she strolled into the common shower and took a spot one showerhead to the right of a middle-aged business woman with sandy grey-brown hair cut short, and with large but firm breasts on a stocky frame; a contrast to her tall, slim build. In a moment, a second woman, early thirties, strikingly black hair, on her head and below, although on the nether regions it had been trimmed to a triangular patch, joined them, and the three women showered in silence.

At an appropriate moment, Meaghan bent over to pick up something, exposing her back side to her neighbor. When she straightened, she glanced quickly at the woman, who seemed to have a small smile on her face. Or was Meaghan imagining that?


Doukas gently stroked the head of the mother, as she now knelt again before him. The daughter was in another room with Sheffield, playing on a computer. The woman had been whipped by Sheffield until she sobbed and begged, which had not taken very long. She was not a strong person.

“So, I have taken care of your debts; you can return home, the roof remains over your house. You will get help for your addiction, do you understand?”

“Yes, yes sir.” The woman spoke quietly, like a child.

“And who do you belong to?”

The woman paused, breathing hard, close to breaking down again. Doukas continued his gentle stroking, as if her were taming the woman. “I, um…what choice do I have?” The woman said, and lay her head sadly upon Doukas’s knee.

It was now his turn to sit quietly for a moment, before replying. “It is not a question of choice. You have had choices. You have made choices. You can make a choice now. The problem for you is, you do not have many choices; that is on you, because of what you have done, your actions. It is your fault, do you understand my reasoning?”

“Yes,” came the response, muffled by her mouth against his leg.

“So…who do you belong to?”

“I…I, um, belong to…you, sir. You.”

“Yes,” Doukas murmured in a voice just a notch above a whisper. “You belong to me. To do with as I wish. And your daughter…?”

The woman gripped his leg, like a child, reluctant to leave, grips their bedpost. “She…she belongs to you too, sir….”

“Yes. Yes she does.” Doukas purred, a smile upon his bronze face. Choice had little to do with anything.


The woman shuddered, hips quivering in one long vibration, and then rested. Meaghan moved her head slightly so she could breathe. In a moment the woman rose, and looked down at the slim form lying on the change room bench. It was a miracle no one had come in while they were doing…their thing. Amazing. The woman bent forward and kissed Meaghan’s mouth, tasting her own juices. She gave one of Meghan’s nipples a final, quick twist and moved to her locker, dressing quickly.

When she turned, Meaghan was sitting on the bench, still naked.

“Ummm…” the woman began.

“Uh, yeah…” Meaghan said.

“So, I’ll see you around?” the woman’s voice rose slightly in enquiry.

“Uh, yeah, I hope so. I’m around here every day, and I know you come now and then. We should definitely, you know….”

“Yeah.” The woman said and turned, making her way out. Meaghan noted the expensive suit the woman wore.

Once the woman had gone, Meaghan dressed quickly, wanting to get home. Three more women had entered to change while she dressed, so their timing had been lucky, although the thought of being ‘caught’ excited Meaghan anyway.

But now, she had business to take care of, and she was sure her business had a happy ending. The woman had had her orgasm, now Meaghan deserved one of her own, and she had lots or erotic fuel for her fire.


The group at The Twisted Tail, nine tonight (because Susan Koning came, Nicole thought) had started to drift off. Only Mel, Dani, Nicole and Susan remained. (Mel is hoping to get lucky, Nicole considered with a smirk. Well, it wouldn’t be with her.) Dani put her cell back in her pocket and announced that she was off to meet friends; Susan put some twenties on the table and said she needed to visit ‘the room’; Nicole followed her, both saying their goodbyes. Mel looked a little lost, as he sat now alone.

Once finished in their respective stalls, Nicole and Susan now both stood at the sinks, Nicole taking the opportunity once again to appraise the other woman. Five-seven, so her own height, attractive, but blonde where Nicole was dark; both wore their hair short and styled. The biggest difference was that Nicole was looking at thirty next, while Susan was regarding forty. Also that Susan was a full partner. Also that she was married.

Susan looked up and caught Nicole watching her, smiling a little at the connection. “What’s your story, Nicole?” she asked, in her Boston accent. She had lived in Philadelphia twenty years, but the accent still lingered.

“What do you mean?” Nicole replied, drying her hands.

Susan just stood and regarded her, a small smile on her face. Nicole handed her some paper towels. Susan used them, and when she looked up again, Nicole impulsively leaned in and kissed her. Not a little peck on the cheek, but full, on the woman’s crimson mouth. Susan did not draw back; she held firm and responded. Nicole looped her arms around the other woman and forced her tongue into her mouth. Susan responded by sucking the tongue and pressing her pelvis against Nicole’s.

Nicole broke away gently and looked into the other’s eyes. “You want to go somewhere?”

Susan looked down quickly, then back. “I…have a husband….” She spoke quietly.

“I know.” Nicole replied. “So what?”


“Is he expecting you home at a certain time?” Nicole continued.

Susan looked down, a small smile again playing on her lips. “Well, no, he’s actually out of town on business.”

Susan looked up and Nicole saw through her into a place she knew well, a place she had often been, starting years ago when she discovered who; what, she was.

It had been her last year of high school. Like many other girls, she had been involved with several boys, but unlike pretty much all her friends, despite some ‘stuff’ had not had real sex. She was a virgin. Being attractive and popular she had had many chances to lose her virginity, but had always turned away. Back then, she had not looked deeply into that mirror; had not labelled herself this or that. She had just gone on.

Week to week, avoiding making any decision.

Then came that day, after school, when her life changed; or she simply came to an understanding. She had stayed late, working on gymnastics with her coach, and had the shower to herself, she thought, as the school seemed quiet and empty. Then Simone had come in; ‘Simone K’ as people simply called her, her last name being one of those eastern European names with too many consonants.

Simone, short at five-two, slim and shy, had been working on badminton, and the two were the last remaining students and were now together in the shower. When Nicole had made eye contact with the girl, something had happened, something had changed within her, or simply emerged to its proper place.

She would remember that moment for years, she was remembering it now. How Simone’s eyes had held some look, some emotion, that was more real than any words. Without considering or planning, Nicole had moved beside the smaller girl, had looked deeply into her eyes, watched as the girl looked down, mumbling, “I think you are so beautiful….”

When Nicole had then lifted Simone’s face, the girl had looked up with a sort of reverence that set off fireworks within Nicole’s body; endorphins, adrenalin. Dopamine; whatever, but something, maybe everything, went coursing through Nicole’s being at that moment. She felt like a giant, like a victorious warrior; like a queen.

She had gently pushed Simone to her knees, directing the girl’s face at her own shaved vagina. “Do you want to kiss me, Simone?” She had asked, without any plan.

Simone had made strange moaning noises, struggling to get words out, her hands stroking and probing her own sex. “Unnnnnhhh….”

“Say it Simone. If you want it, say it. Say you want to serve me. To make me feel good.”

“I…oh, jeez. Ummmmm. Yes. Yes. Yes. I want to kiss

you, so, so fucking much, Pleeeeaaassse.”

And then for the first time in her life, Nicole had felt the wonder of a warm, loving tongue on her vagina. Simone had needed no encouragement; she went about her work with enthusiasm. Nicole thrust her hips and ground Simone’s face into her pelvis with a desire she had not felt until that moment.

Nicole had experienced orgasms by then; she was pretty good at them, actually, masturbating almost every day. In the back of her mind she had been aware, without acknowledging it, that while she fantasized on lots of sexual scenarios with boys, (especially groups of boys, where she was used one after another) that when she needed to reach her peak, it was always with a girl in her mind. And now one was there, between her legs, licking and sucking and serving like a slave.

When Nicole came that day, it was truly mind-blowing. Like a sexual cliché, the moment had gone on and on, rolling, in proverbial waves, until Nicole had literally collapsed onto the slender body of Simone K.

After that encounter, Simone had become her toy; but with only a couple of months left in their high school lives, it had been a brief relationship. But a relationship that set the template for Nicole’s sexual life. She recognized herself without reservation as a dominant lesbian predator. Her sexual fulfillment came through using girls and having them serve her. She was not looking for love; she wanted worship.

Then Nicole left for college, but with two months of Simone’s sexual servitude behind her and the ‘stage’ set. From that point forward Nicole had set out to find and capture young women, and it had been easier than she would have thought, other than the difficulty of fitting her ‘relationships’ into a very busy college program.

Nicole was an outstanding student; she studied relentlessly; ferociously, leaving little time for any fun. But Nicole had made the most of what came her way, and it always began with the look, as she called it. Nicole found that with the right girl, she could literally look into them, see the connection between their desire and her own; a true symbiotic relationship.

Nicole called it Simone’s look, and with a growing arousal she knew she had seen the same look pass, just now, in Susan’s eyes. This woman was available to her, and Nicole would not let this opportunity slip.

“Well, there you go; come with me.” Taking Susan’s hand she led the older woman (and that was really the only negative playing on the edge of her consciousness; Nicole had never been involved with anyone older than herself, apart from one of her professors, and that had been a bit of an experiment.)

Outside, Nicole hailed a cab and soon the two women were seated in the back, heading for her apartment which was downtown and close by. As they sat side by side, Nicole began to slide one hand up Susan’s leg, meeting minimal, token resistance. Nicole felt a sharp stab of arousal when she found the top of Susan’s nylons; the woman was wearing a garter belt!


Sheffield stopped the SUV outside a modest duplex on East Allegheny Ave. She had stopped and picked up a pizza and now the mother and daughter were going to be released, but with conditions. Sheffield handed the woman a burner cell, “Keep this with you for when we need to reach you. We will contact you at least once a week and we will have another photo shoot for your daughter soon. Always answer when we call; that will avoid any, unpleasantness.”

The woman looked at Sheffield with dull eyes and nodded her head. There was no resistance, the deal was sealed. Doukas definitely had plans for these two over the next few months. Sheffield watched them walk to the house, the woman slouching. Oh well, Sheffield thought, that’s life. The woman had made her choices and now the tab needed to be paid.

Sheffield pulled the car back onto the street and headed for the hotel.


Susan clung to Nicole, as if the other would simply absorb her into her being. Nicole gently kissed the side of the woman’s face. They had spent two hours having sex, Nicole even pulling out a strap-on to fuck Susan with, and she was satisfied with how well things had gone. She would have enjoyed having Susan stay, but the woman had a teenage daughter and needed to get home; it was already past eleven. There would be other times.

“God, I wish I didn’t have to leave.” Susan murmured into Nicole’s neck. “I haven’t felt this good since, God….”

Nicole chuckled. “Hey, sweets, you have your…duty. Teenage girls need their mothers. And, we’ll have more chances for fun. We see each other every day, after all.” Nicole spoke softly, seductively, then broke away and held Susan’s hands, looking at her. How far should I push this? She was considering, when Susan spoke.

“So, what happens, um…now? You’ve, uh, obviously been with other woman. This is new to me and, I don’t know, was this….”

“Just one of those ‘hook-ups’ or ‘free fucks’?”


“You know, used to be called one-night-stands.”

“Oh,” Susan laughed softly, “yeah, that’s the idea.”

“Well, I want to be with you again, but you’re the one with something to lose, so….”

Susan smiled. “Yeah, I know. But I also want to be with you again. We will need to be careful, but….”

“But, let’s talk.”

“Let’s talk. Life is full of choices, hey?” Susan smiled. She looked younger when she smiled; she was a handsome woman, so the saying goes.

After Susan had left, Nicole made some tea; she had had enough booze that night. She sat on her couch with a smile on her face. Thinking of the cameras in her bedroom, she knew that Susan didn’t have as many choices as she thought.

She just didn’t know that.


(End of Chapter 01)

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A Conspiracy Of Bitches By LongDarkRoad Chapter 21 A Woman, Therefore To Be Won

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 21 A Woman, Therefore To Be Won

(Two months after the abduction)

In the Caribbean Sea, the party boat was on its final day of this tour; it would be heading to port in Barbados tomorrow. In the lounge the group was enjoying ‘Ruby’, as she twisted and gyrated on the floor of the small, brightly lit stage.

The transition from school girl Samantha Knight to exotic dancer ‘Ruby’ had not been simple or easy; but with enough ‘training’, enough punishment, enough degradation, the choice had come to Samantha to either give up and die or go along.

When she had woken from her drug-induced sleep, Samantha had been foggy and confused. Taking in her surroundings, she seemed to be in some sort of warehouse.

A man named Raul was giving orders, and he had decided a day or two of ‘breaking in’ would be helpful before they went on the boat. He had tied Samantha to a packing crate and raped her every three or four hours, breaking up the routine with whippings. Like her friend Ashley, Samantha did not do well with pain. By the time they eventually got to the boat and began the dance training, it was an improvement for her, and the breaking down process began.

After a couple of weeks of punishment and training, Samantha came to decide to do the ‘gig’; but to stay observant and quietly look for a soft spot; a way out. She would give in; she would not give up.

On these very private and exclusive cruises, the high-paying clientele, almost all male that bought in, expected the best in food and beverage. They expected the women who brought drinks to their card games to be attractive and scantily clad, and they expected the dancers to be provocative, alluring and seductive. ‘Ruby’ had become all that.

With the help of a professional dancer that worked with her each day, Ruby had become quite fluid in all her moves, including using the pole, which she was now hanging upside down on as she finished her routine. Coming down, her legs were spread very wide; her shaved and very pink pussy was stretched open, and as she reached the floor, a ping pong ball ejected out of one of her holes; a move that always brought applause and a number of (mostly U.S.) bills flung at the stage.

Her time over for this afternoon, Ruby’s trainer attached a leash to her collar and led her, on all fours, to the office of Raul Aramis, owner of the ship and the company, ‘Specialty Poker Cruises’; departing on Wednesdays from Morocco, Ireland, Haiti and Barbados. Raul owned Ruby, and was the only one allowed to touch her. Raul emphatically made a point of ‘touching her’; by fucking her; every couple of nights.

‘Ruby’ had been a fighter, and at one point Raul was prepared to call off the whole deal, but she eventually broke; although he would still only put his cock in her mouth in she was wearing a guard and therefore unable to bite him. He still didn’t trust her, and for good reason. ‘Ruby’ may have become compliant, but Samantha never would be; she was just waiting for her right time. Something in her eyes told Raul that.

And, Samantha had already figured out the tour’s schedule and knew the boat docked for two days, Monday and Tuesday, each week. She also knew that Raul had a long, thin metal letter opener on his desk that he had likely owned for a long time and forgotten about; but Samantha thought of it, and how effective it would be if she plunged it into Raul’s back, between his shoulder blades.

Then she could steal his cell and make a phone call home. She just needed to be patient. She looked up as he came in, hair slicked back; she was pretty sure he dyed it. Raul tugged her leash and brought her out into a space, then bent her over a special wooden horse he had had built in his office, custom-made with a leather top and straps.

Once she was lying over it, he fastened her wrists to the legs. He would usually spank her for a while and then fuck her, eventually forcing his way into her ass, where he preferred to cum.

It was in the aftermath of an orgasm that Samantha knew he was vulnerable. She had already figured out that she could stretch her leather bindings and pull her hands free. She just needed patience. Patience and that long, metal blade.


In Chicago, in the home of Arlana Jarvais, a pleasant Sunday morning found her doing what she loved, inflicting suffering and being served. In one corner of her living room, where Jarvais enjoyed placing her victims, Natalie Roth hung naked from the ceiling hook. She had been placed there at 9:00 AM, and it was now 11:00 AM. Between floggings and spankings, administered by Jarvais’s unpleasant assistant Treena, Roth had been lowered to her knees to provide oral pleasure to her mistress. “You never lose your touch, dear Natalie,“ Jarvais had murmured as Natalie licked her aggressively.

Now Jarvais looked at the girl kneeling near her; one reason she had agreed to be part of this in the first place. Arlana Jarvais had lusted after young Gwyneth Roth the moment her fourteen year-old butt had paraded across the room at an event, at the Hillman’s residence, oddly enough.

But Jarvais was very cautious with young women; better to wait and be safe rather than sorry. Of course she could have always gone to Europe, where the attitude toward sex has never been as repressive as America, but she liked Chicago; and there were always other girls.

But now, here was the sweet thing. Jarvais loved just having the girl sitting, naked, obedient, waiting; like one holds off opening a present. Soon she would bring the girl to her, maybe even have her whip her mother for a while.

Jarvais found that thought very amusing.

Treena brought her employer some wine, and then strolled over and placed some strong nipple clips onto Natalie’s breasts, then stood back to watch her writhe.

As Jarvais sipped her lovely Merlot, she thought back to that first conversation, when Natalie Roth had come to her seeking help. She had been intrigued, especially with the thought that Gwyneth might be involved. However, the girls she was discussing, Ashley Hillman and Samantha Knight, warranted a thoughtful response.

She and Natalie had eventually reached an agreement; Jarvais would cover the money outstanding, a substantial amount, and allow the Roth’s main business to continue. Bradley Roth would be moved into some position that would keep him busy, but the true management would be taken over by one of Jarvais’s people. This arrangement would free the Roths from Ashley Hillman’s control.

All that was required would be that Natalie would become Jarvais’s personal slave for one year, and Gwyneth would agree to be her plaything for three months. While Gwyneth was not happy with this, she had to agree with her mother that it was a better option than being under the control of the two bitches.

However, as soon as Natalie had left, Jarvais placed a call to Alexander Hillman, or his associate Zoe Manatos, at any rate. Eventually she was able to speak with the man himself. There was no way she wanted him coming after her, so she explained Roth’s problems and her request. To say she was surprised by Hillman’s response would not come close; she almost fell off her chair.

He wasn’t upset or even surprised by the situation and took control of everything right then, making Manatos the contact person. Jarvais had been in touch with that woman every day since; nothing was done without her approval. Jarvais had heard of the disappearance of the two girls, had thought about asking but decided she would be told what she needed to know. She had what she wanted; so the rest did not concern her.

Jarvais pulled the leash attached to Gwyneth’s collar and the girl moved her face to Jarvais’s feet, and began to lick the expensive leather shoes. In ten or fifteen minutes, those lovely young lips would be licking and sucking the shaved labia of Arlana Jarvais, while her mother watched.

It had all worked out splendidly.


At the villa in St. Tropez, in his spacious room, Alexander

George Hillman sat looking at an extra wide computer screen showing what appeared to be what Americans would think of as ‘an exotic location’. It was in fact a room in the Kuwaiti palace of Khalid Jazeem Saliba.

As he watched, a naked blonde girl was brought into the room and chained by her collar to a pillar. The girl sat up straight. It was Ashley Hillman, looking different, somehow. Perhaps it was just the look on her face. There was no contemptuous smirk or haughty glare. There was nothing, just a blank slate. Ashley had been broken.

It had not been an easy process, especially because Hillman and Jazeem did not want to destroy the girl; but just make her compliant. Jazeem had himself worked for the last month, every day, with the help of one of his long time girls, to slowly chip away at Ashley’s resistance; her pride, her stubbornness, her anger.

In the end there were a couple of things in their favor. Ashley did not like pain; she had resisted the pain very briefly and then had become compliant; but anger burned in her eyes. Desire was the other thing; Ashley found it hard to orgasm, so providing her with sexual release, coupled with obedience, was slowly changing her attitude.

But with no one as support for her; a stranger surrounded by others who were working together, Ashley gradually released her resistance; it felt much better to do as asked; life in her cell/room was now not unpleasant; especially compared to the dark, cold, concrete places she had originally been kept in; they were places with insects and rats, where she was forced to relieve herself in a corner and then live with the smell and the filth.

Her pleasant if sparse room now, cell though it might be, had light and some comfort; and the comforts increased the more obedient she was. She was being trained, and it was succeeding.


And here Ashley was now, chained to a pillar but looking what, to her mind, would be serene. She would likely soon be sucking her master’s cock; she had done that the last three days. He had trained her to do it a certain way and yesterday he was very pleased with her. She had been allowed to relieve herself with no one watching her, (once) and to play some music on her device for half an hour; obedience being accompanied by rewards.

She would work well again today; it was not hard, really, to shut off your mind. The man, (Arab, she thought) was kind of her father’s age which was gross, but he wasn’t bad looking and had no terrible smells, etc. He would come on her face rather than in her mouth, so that was good for her.

Back in Hillman’s villa room Slave, blonde and sleek, had been brought in on all fours and attached by her collar to a pillar. Both Ashley and Slave assumed the ‘ready’ position; slaves on their knees, backs straight, palms on their thighs facing out, their gazes directed down.

Hillman could not believe his growing excitement. He had imagined this moment, at least this scenario, for quite some time, and now he would actually witness his daughter’s sexual compliance.

In the room where Ashley was sitting, a shadow crossed the screen and it was clear someone had come in. There was a technical moment with some static and picture disruption, but suddenly the screen perspective changed from the mounted camera at one end of the room to a camera situated on the head of someone in the room.

Jazeem had been a little reluctant about wearing this as he felt it might hinder his ‘performance’, but he had practised with several of his other women and had found it was actually arousing, as he set a screen and watched the action on it as it was happening live before him. Watching himself engaged in a sexual act was new and delightful.

The camera now showed Ashley being brought to Jazeem, naked and on her knees, her blonde hair glowing, her body lithe and elegant, prowling across the carpeted room like a cat. She paused right before the feet of her master, and kissed them, her head low and her round hips rising enticingly behind.

At the villa, the door opened and Sierra now came quietly in. Hillman motioned to her and Sierra led Slave to her master, blonde and naked, supple and seductive. She paused by his feet, and kissed them, rubbing her face on him like a cat.

The camera mounted on Jazeem now showed the blonde head of Ashley Hillman rising, her face now looking up directly into the eye of the camera; directly into Alexander Hillman’s face. Her eyes were betraying nothing; no anger, no resentment, no desire. Simply obedience.

In Hillman’s room, Slave looked up into her master’s face, and there now was a difference; her face showing devotion. On the screen, the woman attendant with Ashley now knelt behind her, Jazeem raised his head to show the woman licking Ashley’s ass, Ashley’s face now with a small smile on it. Hillman motioned for Sierra and she went to her knees and buried her face between Slave’s legs from the rear.

Ashley now reached forward and began rubbing her master’s cock through his robe. Hillman was prepared, as he was wearing a robe as well; Slave now placed her hand on his growing erection, feeling the cock through the expensive silk garment. Jazeem’s cock was released by Ashley as Hillman’s was by Slave. Ashley’s lovely pink tongue began to glide up and down the brown shaft of her master. Slave now did the same with Hillman, who instructed her not to suck yet, just lick. He was so aroused he was already close to coming. Both tongues caressed the impatient manhood of each man as he sat in his chair.

This, the two men had agreed, would be a challenge to orchestrate; orgasms being fickle things; there was really no way they would be able to coordinate them perfectly. They had been in brothels, or parlors, or simply hotel rooms many times together having sex. One always came first, sometimes several minutes before the other. They understood this and decided to just ‘go with the flow’, so to speak. They would finish up on their own terms.

Ashley had now began sucking Jazeem’s cock in earnest; eyes closed, hand stroking, sucking aggressively. This was a skill she had certainly improved on in a month; practise evidently improving performance. Slave, who was always good at this, now did the same, and Hillman was pretty sure he would be the first across the finish line, as he could not tear his eyes from the screen. The image of Ashley’s sweet mouth, her lovely, plump pink lips, engulfing a throbbing erect cock was an image he had held secret for years; and yet there it was, right before him. Happening right now.

He knew someday he would need to have the real thing before him, but that was for a day long down the road. Today was just this sheer wondrous joy of knowing that his daughter’s mouth would soon be full of cum and he would be exploding his seed into a warm and waiting young woman as well. Tall, blonde, lovely, obedient; this was the object of his desire; this image, an image his daughter had happened to grow into.

Hillman laughed out loud as the beautiful pain came to reality, his semen forcing its way through his resistance to be consumed by a willing and beautiful woman, on her knees, serving him. “AAAAaaaaahhhhh” he called, his cries travelling out to the blue waters of the sea and across, to the sands of east Africa.

Hillman continued to laugh softly, a huge smile on his face, his eyes closed; this was unbelievable. When he opened them and looked at the screen, he saw Ashley’s lovely face, with gobs of white gunk dripping from her cheeks and lips. And then she took a finger and wiped away a streak of cum, before placing the finger in her mouth, and licking it clean. My God, Hillman thought to himself; this was better than he had imagined, and he had imagined a lot.

After a few minutes, Hillman’s cell chirped. It was Jazeem. “Oh my, oh my, old man, how did we do; or are you done?”

Hillman laughed, “I wouldn’t have answered, my friend, if I wasn’t. It looked like you enjoyed that; I take it the Slut-Slave performed to expectations?”

Jazeem laughed loudly now, “Oh, yes, oh yes, yes, yes. I think I will be keeping this one for a while. She will be a Slut-Slave, absolutely, we will have her on her knees all the time. With your permission of course, my dear Hillman.”

“Yes, indeed. There is much more waiting for you, Jaz. As long as I have a front row seat your imagination is all that holds you.” Jazeem chuckled in response. Hillman continued. “Jaz, before we go, kindly have the slut face the camera.”

“Of course, my friend.” In a moment, Jazeem had returned to the

room and turned on the camera. Ashley’s face was turned and she looked up into the lens, a small smile on her lovely face. In response, Hillman smiled at the face on the screen. Some day, my girl, he said to himself, that face will be here, if only for me to wonder at.


Outside the Hillman residence, Nikki Carter stood, uncertain as to her next move. After finding Trevor’s journal and reading it over and over until she had basically memorized it, she was prompted by her conscience to do something. But do what? Ashley Hillman and Samantha Knight had gone somewhere; no one knew where. So Nikki had started coming to this house, watching it, looking for something, anything. Was her brother’s journal real? Was this just his twisted imagination working darkly?

With a deep sigh, she turned and headed back to her house. She wasn’t done, but she needed to think some more. As she moved down the street, her actions were noted and reported back to Barb Quinn. This girl needed to be looked into.


Back in her cell, Ashley Hillman lay on her mat; it was unlikely she would be used again today; someone might come and take her out for a little while, though. For now she just lay. In her mind the same thoughts surfaced, as they had for weeks now. What happened to Samantha? Had the Roths planned this on their own? (It didn’t seem likely.) Where were her parents; were they searching for her? How could someone as powerful as her father not be able to find her?

And then the thought that disturbed her, and which she was unable to dispel, came to the forefront; was her father involved? It would seem to be a bizarre thought, but how else had their kidnapping been accomplished? It had been planned and had clearly taken a while to come together.

And who had been watching her? Who had the cameras installed in their home? In her room? The only person that would do that, could do that, would be…him.

Ashley remembered being fourteen, and suddenly realizing that her breasts had developed into a woman’s and her legs were long; and that boys and men, and sometimes even girls, would simply stare at her body. She remembered how it felt, a little exciting; and how she felt; mostly smug. She was beautiful, and the rest of the world had better damn well acknowledge it.

And then she remembered the look on her father’s face one night when she had passed him in the hallway, wearing only her skimpy negligee. The look on his face had been a look she had seen on other’s people’s faces; and it was a look she now knew. It was a look of desire. So, was her father behind all this; was that why her…master, was wearing a camera today as she pleasured him?

Was her father actually watching her!!???

Her thoughts were interrupted as a girl, Ashley thought it might be her master’s daughter; her name was Sherifa and she was kind, came to her cell, and smiled. Ashley was to be taken outside for a while. Ashley smiled up at the girl as well, in gratitude. Some things had definitely changed.


In the Hillman residence in Boston, Katalina ‘Kat’ Chung was also enjoying some pleasure. With the departure of Ashley, and Christina staying in New York, and Zoe Manatos living at the Macquaries, Chung was asked to move into the Hillman home. Her first few hours there were most enlightening, as Manatos showed her the safe and its contents.

Chung spent several hours watching ‘the best porn she’d ever seen’ and of course saw the ones involving maid Mandy. It didn’t take much to put things together and Chung was resourceful enough to see an opportunity.

So now Mandy was serving her just as she had served Ashley. Kat Chung found Mandy’s tongue delightful and had her between her legs a couple of times a day. She was there now. Chung sat naked on one of the large armchairs in the living room, one hand tweaking the nipples of her modest breasts, while Mandy’s tongue was slowly bringing her to a release; a wonderful release she was sure.

At the back of the house, Josh Reyes and two members of his crew were working on a section of flowering perennials when a loud cry came from the house. Any man who had heard a woman orgasm would recognize the cry. All three men in the garden looked up and laughed. Tomas had a puzzled look on his face, however.

“The Bitches?” he asked.

Josh Reyes lit a cigarette and smiled. “No”, he said, shaking his head. “Not the Bitches.” He looked up at the other two, a broad smile on his face.

“No more Bitches.”

They all laughed.

(End of Chapter 21)


A Conspiracy of Bitches – The End…

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A Conspiracy of Bitches by LongDarkRoad Chapter 20 A Conspiracy of Desire

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 20  A Conspiracy of Desire

Ashley also remembered the way to the lodge, although it had been a few years since she had been out there. At one time it was used more often and she had come here with her parents. She drove along the narrow road and saw the lodge just ahead; there was Samantha’s car, standing alone; Ashley’s info was that Macquarie was to be coming with Natalie Roth.

Ashley decided to park just around the side so only Sam’s car was seen. She got out and headed quickly for the front entrance and thought back to the last time she was here. It had to be at least four years; her father was still around most of the time. It had been some school thing, lame as always. Mostly it was just the parents standing around, yakking and bragging about acquisitions and take-overs and shit. Bor-ring.

Ashley opened the front doors and peeked in first, then laughed. It wasn’t like someone was going to jump out and yell, “Boo!”

Suddenly, Gwyneth appeared in a doorway across the large entrance space and called, “Mistress Samantha is in here.” And then she turned and headed off. Ashley was quickly annoyed, as that wasn’t the proper slave attitude that they had been developing. Then Ashley wondered, what was Gwyneth doing here?

“Hey, Gwenny-slave, get your ass back here. Gwen,-uuuhhh!” Ashley reacted to a jab in her shoulder, turning quickly she was puzzled as she stared at Natalie Roth, who appeared to be holding a needle in her hand, and smiling. “What the fu…” but she was cut off as another stabbing pain hit her, this time from the other side.

She turned, but already the room had begun swimming. Natalie caught Ashley as she collapsed, lowering her to the floor. She and Gwyneth then did the same procedure with Ashley as they had with Samantha and in a few minutes the tall blonde girl was bound. The two Roths then left, returning in a moment dragging the unconscious Samantha and laying her beside her partner.

Two sleeping beauties, or bitches, depending on your point of view.

Natalie now made a call.


It was evening in St. Tropez. There had once again been a brief period of rain, but the evening was pleasant and refreshed. Slave was kneeling beside her master, simply waiting for his command. The cell phone on the small table by his left hand lit up; a message from Ms. Manatos. ‘The operation was underway, more news shortly.’

Hillman read the message and smiled; patience and planning, all that a man needed, at times. And, maybe one or two key conspirators to help the plot along. Hillman had plotted take-overs and mergers and the compromising of rivals, but this last month; the planning and scheming that had gone into this had been immensely satisfying; mostly because it had been undertaken not for profit, but for desire.

For Hillman, that was what now occupied his time. His passion. His desire.

He had enough money to last several lifetimes; but he only had this one life. It needed to be filled now with the objects of his desire and the targets of his passion. He wished to spend his time with the attaining and the enjoyment of these.

He turned to the beautiful, naked woman to his right, a woman who not long so ago was living an entirely different life. He observed her at his leisure, as she was kneeling for his pleasure. This was as it should be.

It was interesting to him that he had received word just yesterday that Marilyn Allen, Denise Allen’s mother, had passed away, suddenly, at her home in Cleveland.

So that was that, Hillman had pondered, this woman, this Slave’s, entire past was gone. Denise Allen no longer existed in record or in memory. He looked at Slave with a measured tenderness, and with gentle guidance brought her face and mouth down to his crotch. Her life was now one of service; as would be his daughter’s. He smiled.


Back at the lodge, two classic black SUVs pulled up outside it. Four men, all unpleasant looking, clambered out and hustled into the building. They were prepared and efficient. The two American girls, now blindfolded as well as bound and gagged, were picked up and carried to the vehicles and quickly piled in; one to each. Natalie followed, and was surprised to see Zoe Manatos getting out of the back of one car.

Manatos spoke. “Hello, Natalie; good to see you again, although I enjoyed it the last time we met. Natalie smiled, remembering the spanking her and Gwnyeth had received at Manatos’s hand. The woman continued, “Your assistance has been invaluable. You go now with Hillman, I will look after Knight. You’ll be brought back for your car later.”

“Very good.” Natalie replied and climbed into the vehicle carrying Ashley.

Gwyneth went back to turn off all the lights and lock up; she had Ashley’s keys and both cell phones, Samantha’s and Ashley’s, as well as the spare key they delayed Ashley with. Nothing would be left behind. What Gwyneth needed now were the sex/slave CDs at the Hillman residence.

Zoe Manatos was looking at Gwyneth as she came out of the lodge. “What are your plans, young Gwyneth?” She asked, even though she was aware of the CDs. Gwyneth explained quickly about what she had still to do, and Manatos told her to take Samantha’s car, and she would take Ashley’s. The two women climbed into the vehicles and headed for the Hillman’s.

It was not a lengthy trip and once there, Manatos parked Ashley’s car in the garage. Jackie the driver had been sent off earlier on an errand, and Reyes was working down at the far end of the residence, or so Manatos thought. When she was walking away down the drive, Josh Reyes came out of a shed, and looked at her with curiosity. How much did he know? She pondered, thinking she would deal with him later.

Gwyneth pulled up and parked out front; they would stash Samantha’s car at the Macquaries. Gwyneth headed up the walk. She had been at the Hillman’s so often, Mandy barely regarded her when she came in. Gwyneth called, “Just getting something for Ashley.” Gwyneth went straight to the safe, heart beating with the thought that Ashley may have decided to change the combination. But no, 1998 was still it, the safe swung open and Gwyneth got to work.

Amazingly, Ashley had labelled every single CD, and there were sixty. Gwyneth took out everything with her or her mom on it, the rest she could care less about or who saw them.

She grabbed Ashley’s laptop; Samantha’s was in her car, and headed out. Surprisingly again, Ms. Manatos was waiting for her at the end of the walk. She held out her hand, “I’ll take everything, thank you. You know what you need to do until school is over; say nothing, you know nothing, you are waiting for information, whatever; you don’t have long. And then, I believe you will be going to…Chicago?”

How did she know that? Gwyneth wondered, but Manatos took all the stuff and climbed into Samantha’s car. “Someone will be coming for you,” she called to Gwyneth as she drove off.

Gwyneth stood now, suddenly feeling tired. It had been a lot of planning and a lot of tension, but she was free of her former friends. Finally. But was she getting into something worse?


Meanwhile, the two black SUVs headed for the I93 out of the city; but one was going to a private airstrip and the other was headed for the coast and a private dock. Calls were being made to Chicago and St. Tropez; Hillman smiled an even wider smile when he saw, the message, “package picked up”. He then relayed this message to Kuwait, while Manatos sent her own message to a boat waiting ten miles off shore.

Ashley was still unconscious when she was transferred from the SUV to a private Hillman Group jet; she would awaken enroute with an attendant monitoring her (Natalie Roth’s part in this ended here, although her involvement was not over). Ashley’s attendant would give water and allow and supervise washroom breaks for the flight. They were facing several hours in the air before finally reaching their destination, on the eastern coast of Africa.

Samantha faced a different fate, her abductors taking her for a rendezvous with a private ‘specialty tour’ boat. In the coming weeks, she would learn to be a seductive, exotic dancer, known as ‘Ruby’.


It was an hour after school and Nikki Carter had finally decided to get started on the unhappy task of going through her brother’s stuff, from his desk and drawers. She was sitting on the floor in his room; door open as it still creeped her out to be there; and holding something in her hands that she was having a difficult time comprehending. It was a journal. She never thought of Trevor as someone who would keep a journal. But here it was and this one was unusual.

She read the title again, “My Life as A Slave.” There

were only seven entries in the slim book; but two names came up many times: Ashley Hillman and Samantha Knight. And the context was not pleasant.

What did this mean?


(Two days later)

“What have you done?” It was Christina Hillman, calling from New York.

“What does that mean, my love?” Alexander Hillman replied, sipping his espresso, the early morning sun turning the villa patio to gold.

“Do not play coy with me Alexander. You know. I have received word, Ashley is gone. Kat Chung is at the house with stories of…whatever. But I know you are involved. So either you tell me what the Hell is going on, or I contact the police.”

“You think that wise, my sweet?”

“Alexander! This is me; your wife; your…partner. I deserve to know….”

Hillman sighed deeply. This was the one part of the whole thing which was concerning. “She is safe.”

There was a pause. “That’s it?” Christina sounded wary.

“That’s enough, for now.” Hillman replied softly.


“Someplace far from here, from the states, from connections. Of course, someplace controlled….”

“And, what, exactly…are your plans? Or do I really want to know?”

“What are my plans…always, dearest? They are pretty much the same as yours.”

Christina paused again. “Pretty much, but not the same.

I have not had our daughter…kidnapped.”

“But if it were our son…?”

There was a long pause this time. “I want updates; every two or three days.”

“Absolutely. You will be reassured throughout. Would you like…video?”

This pause was not so long. “Yes.”

Now it was Hillman’s turn to pause. “Oh, by the way my love. I understand that you have, um, taken to having two young men at a time these days?”

“You are always well informed, my Alexander. Yes, your sources are correct. Where do they hide, by the way? I never see them.”

Hillman chuckled. “Well, for one, the doorman at your condo tower has been receiving cash from me since the moment you signed your lease. He is very observant.” Hillman chuckled again and continued. “Why the…change, Love? Just interested you understand. No judgements.”

Christina sighed. “Desire…changes.”

“I know.”

(One month later)

The Knights, Duncan and Jennifer, had proven the most difficult to settle down; Tracey Hudson somewhat as well. Everyone else had accepted explanations and backed off without much fuss; Ashley Hillman and Samantha Knight had no supporters, that was the path they had traveled and the reward they reaped.

The school was surprisingly matter-of-fact about two graduating seniors leaving before exams. Whatever explanations were given to them succeeded in shutting down any questions, though Mary Ellen Scanlon did keep an open file on the two; she had questions, but was savvy enough to keep them to herself. As well, Ms. Woodward seemed unusually interested in the unexpected departure of the two girls. Strange, thought Mary Ellen.

But the Knights, they were the most persistent, and being relatively wealthy and connected, they could cause problems. In the end, a message from Samantha helped to placate them. If they did not pursue her or try some amateur commando stunt, Samantha would be unharmed and in time would be returned.

So for now, the Knights were under control, if not happy.

Tracey Hudson was also persistent in her questioning; she was not satisfied that Ashley would just up and leave. She was finally dealt with by being hired by a larger agency (Barb Quinn’s suggestion) with a significant increase in salary but with the need to move down to Atlanta.

There, she remained unsatisfied but out of the loop; and Quinn had an associate assigned to her who would be keeping tabs on her activities. If she were to begin aggressively looking for Ashley, then she would be dealt with.


In Aberdeen, the familiar sounds were coming again from the stables; the steady slap of flesh on flesh and soft moans and grunts. Then a brief sharp cry. William O’Hara stood and did up his fly. There were no warm embraces, he just slouched off and Darla stood, dusted off some straw and made sure her clothes were in order and then started for the house.

Since her sister had gone off and needed someone to look after things, Darla seemed the perfect choice. And the day she had spent with Fiona and William made her aware of…certain possibilities. She and William got together three or four times a week. Darla looked forward to it; she enjoyed the sex and told herself that life was short.

Too short to deny oneself basic needs, so enjoy.


In Boston, Pauline smiled up into the satisfied face of Zoe Manatos, who was lightly stroking Pauline’s hair. “Uuuummmm…nnn, very good, Pauly. Very good. If you don’t make it with the volleyball I think you would have a successful career as a muff muncher.”

Pauline laughed and stood, then turned and picked up the leash that was lying by them and walked to the door. Bronwyn responded by following on all fours; the leash being attached to her collar.

Manatos got up and headed down the stairs, followed by Pauline and their ‘pet’. Peering into the den, Manatos saw the film crew was still shooting; the head guy held up a hand showing five minutes. From where she was standing, the action looked very good. Manatos could see Fiona Macquarie with one black cock pounding her pussy from behind, doggy style while another one, also black, was in her mouth. She was such a fair-skinned woman the dark cocks stood out wonderfully against her skin.

There was no doubt she loved to ‘shag’, as her sister said. Macquarie may have resented her servitude to Manatos, but she loved the sex she was getting. This was the second DVD she appeared in. The other featured three couple of various races with Fiona as the ‘maid’ who ends up getting used sexually by all six people; with some moderate punishment as well.

Fiona’s hair had been dyed for the videos, and for the ‘maid’ scenario she was wearing glasses; if by some chance someone who knew her watched the video, the woman being fucked and spanked so aggressively might seem familiar to them. Maybe.

It didn’t matter; Fiona and Bronwyn Macquarie belonged to Alexander Hillman now and would be used as he, or Zoe Manatos, (or Martinique Bellaire,) decided.

Adair Macquarie was busy in Berlin; his companies had been saved, although he had a couple of new partners, who controlled stocks, etc. Adair would be meeting one of them next week; Khalid Jazeem Saliba would be flying in from Kuwait. He had always had an interest in jet engines. And Scotch.


In St. Tropez, Sierra knelt patiently, ball gag in place, hands fastened behind her. She had come back that morning from two days of serving two couples, both American. While both husbands had fucked her several times, it was the two wives who had been most interested in her. The two women had been relentless in fucking her ass. They had also enjoyed the nipple rings, frequently hanging various items from them for amusement.

She had licked so much pussy this weekend her jaws actually were sore, but she was satisfied. Martinique had lovingly applied some salve to her ass after bathing her precious girl, before stroking her to orgasm. But now Sierra needed to be put back into her place, as, like Slave, she had now discovered it; and so she waited on her knees for her mistress.

Martinique was at that moment lying on her bed, with the devoted Sophie furiously licking her vagina. Sophie had worked out very well, better than expected really, and now was living full time in Martinique’s villa as a permanent house slave, much like Lucie across the road, although with far more sexual service.

After a loud and satisfying orgasm, Martinique lay caressing Sophie while Sierra watched from her knees. She was not allowed to turn away, which turned out to be fine, as she found that seeing Martinique receive satisfaction now brought her pleasure too.

After a few moments Martinique arose and went to her bound companion. Removing the ball gag she kissed Sierra’s mouth gently and lovingly. Putting her arms

around her, she asked, “How is my girl, my most precious one?”

With a shuddering sigh, Sierra began, “Oh God Mistress, I need you, please touch me, please use me…please…”

Martinique regarded her with affection. “I have something for you, a special gift,” she said, then  stood and walked to a dresser, removed something and returned. It was a silver choker necklace, embossed with ‘Hillman’, like the one given to Denise Allen weeks ago. Martinique placed it around Sierra’s neck and kissed her, untying her bonds.

Sierra looked up, aware of what this meant. Martinique handed Sierra a tiny silver padlock. Sierra looked at her, desire and sadness in her eyes, but she smiled and then clicked the lock onto the collar, securing it.

“Who do you belong to?” Martinique whispered in a voice that caressed Sierra like a Mediterranean breeze.

Sierra struggled to get the words out, her throat constricted, but not by the choker. “Y-you. I…belong to you, my m-mistress.”

Martinique had admitted to Hillman her surprise at Sierra’s submission; although the woman would not become what Slave was, she had turned out to be amazingly subservient; at least to Martinique. And the clients that had used her so far had all praised her enthusiastic obedience.

“But she is important to you, Martinique.” Hillman had observed. Martinique had simply nodded and smiled. “So, you need to keep her however you will. I believe she is yours.” He smiled, a magnanimous smile.

Martinique looked down now at the lovely, upturned face, at the tears slowly moving down over the cheeks; one tear hung on Sierra’s jaw, and Martinique took it with her tongue. She clasped Sierra to her. “I love you, my Sierra. You are mine, even as I give you to others. You are mine.” Sierra understood that.

Later this week Martinique would mark Sierra’s lovely labia with rings. Two; one for her and one for Hillman. She also had plans for a butterfly tattoo, to sit just above Sierra’s sex, with the butterfly’s wings being bordered by Sierra’s dark labia, and the words, ‘my precious one’ forming the body.


It was late, past midnight, when the phone buzzed. Alexander Hillman looked at it as it vibrated on the table. He recognized the number. It did not surprise him. On her knees, Slave continued to suck her master’s cock even as he answered the phone.

“Christina. Hello. It is late here, but you know that.”

“Yes, Alexander. I know your habits. Would there happen to be a blonde woman near at hand?”

Hillman laughed, “Oh, that is astute, my dear. You know how I enjoy having blondes near me. And you, your appetite is being satisfied?

“I’m not even going to bother answering you, Alexander. I know you already know. But my playthings have gone home; you like to keep yours around.”

Hillman chuckled again, Slave was doing wonders even with the distraction. She really was marvellous. “All that is good, but we know you didn’t call to chat about our…sexual preferences.”

There was a pause. “Thank you for the updates. And thank you for selecting only certain…images. I’m sure there are more, um, graphic ones. But I am satisfied that Ashley is imprisoned, being trained, but safe. I would like now to know your…plan.”

“Who says there is a plan?” They both waited.

“There is always a plan, dear.”

Hillman considered this; yes, there was a plan; or a guide at any rate. And what was guiding Hillman was his desire; and when it came to his daughter that was something that he had kept hidden for a long, long time. It wasn’t something he would talk about; even to Christina.

He decided for now, for her, to give out a summary.

“Ashley will…serve. She will learn to serve without question. Who she serves and for how long; that remains unsettled. I watch over her.”

Another pause. “I’m sure you do.” A fairly lengthy pause followed, Hillman continuing to enjoy Slave’s dedicated tongue.

Christina finally spoke. “Alexander, tell me straight out. Do you intend to fuck our daughter?”

Hillman smiled, grimaced actually and paused. “Not today, Dear.” Hillman placed the phone down, but not off. He wanted his wife to hear. In a few moments Slave’s mouth accepted a burst of fluid which she consumed eagerly as Hillman grunted aloud his satisfaction. Slave then looked up with a childlike innocence.

“Good night, Dear.” Alexander Hillman said, turning off his phone.

He could have told her, he wasn’t sure why he didn’t, that having sex with Ashley was the one thing he could never do. Which was why he had gone to such lengths to pull off the plan that had just happened.

He could never have sex with his daughter; but he would control her life and specifically her sex life, completely.

(End of Chapter 20)

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A Conspiracy of Bitches by LongDarkRoad Chapter 19 Mastered By Deadly Passions

A Conspiracy of Bitches

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 19  Mastered By Deadly Passions

Ashley had waited until Sunday afternoon to bring the girls back; she had enjoyed her time with Tracey, although Pauline’s face would sometimes come to her mind. She would call her at some point; there was just so much to think about and take care of right now.

Although Samantha warned against letting Gwyneth know too much, Ashley thought her necessary for their plans. For now, Ashley and Samantha sat on the couch in the Hillman living room while Gwyneth sat naked on the floor beside them.

“Ok, Gwen-Slut, give us your big ideas about Bronwyn-Bitch.”

Gwyneth looked up, from one face to the other. Samantha …skeptical and…cautious? That was funny, Gwyneth pondered. And Ashley, smug and superior as always. For Gwyneth, the trick would be to not seem too prepared, too rehearsed. “I was thinking of something Sam…Mistress Samantha said, about the end of last year, when she and some other girls had a meeting at that lodge at Windsor. Your family’s lodge, Mistress….”

Recognition showed on Samantha’s face.


In his palace in Kuwait, Khalid Jazeem Saliba felt the vibration of one of his phones. On this particular device only one person would be calling. “Hello my friend Hillman. Blessings to you.”

“Jaz, you’re sounding happy.”

“Well, I’m believing that a call from you is of good news, my dear friend.”

“Indeed, Jazeem, indeed, and you are prepared and still

in agreement with my plans?”

“Absolutely Hillman, you are a son of a schemer; I am looking forward to this, if all is as you promised.”

“Patience, my friend, all is in motion. I will be back in a couple of hours with more news. Late call ok with you; it will be past midnight, your time?” Hillman murmured.

“That will not be a problem, dear Hillman. I await your news, the time is of no matter.”

Hillman closed off, a smile on his lips


Sierra crossed the road with a casual grace, not concerned that all she was wearing was a collar and a tiny piece of cloth covering her pubis. She was walking from their (her and Martinique’s) villa to Hillman’s. The view and the sun were better over on that side, especially at this time of day.

When she had settled into a lounge chair, she slipped off the tiny piece of cloth and lay back, content in her nakedness. She lifted one breast and looked at the nipple ring. The rings were pretty and light, but she still felt strange when she looked at them.

As she lay back, Sierra pondered her new reality. She was still surprised, a little, that she liked how the rings made her feel. She was even more surprised by how willingly she had accepted being used sexually by strangers; surprised that it had been so exciting to her. She’d had multiple orgasms when being used, her excitement at times overwhelming; this she was not expecting. She became aroused thinking of who might be coming for her next.

Should this really surprise her, she mused?

Sierra knew she was slipping; had already slipped, actually, into a certain kind, a different kind, of relationship with Martinique. They could call themselves partners, but Sierra knew she was now serving…a mistress, and she felt…ok with that, strangely. No, more than ok, she was content with that and wished it to continue.

Unlike before; should this surprise her?

She was remembering that day several years ago when she had decided to follow up with the woman, Charlotta. After the visit where the woman discovered her hiding and she had ended up giving her oral sex (Charlotta doing the same back to her in response) Charlotta had left her an address and cell number, saying that she would love to hook up again. Sierra had called after a couple of weeks and they had met in a coffee shop.

They hadn’t had much time and simply went back to Charlotta’s car, both going into the backseat. Charlotta had made Sierra strip and then they made love, on the cold seats, Sierra feeling excitement from the thought of being discovered; as well as all the wonderful things Charlotta was doing to her with her experienced and talented hands.

Sierra had had another orgasm that afternoon. After resting quietly for a while, Sierra needed to leave. Charlotta had suggested then that they begin a relationship, but Sierra was conflicted. On the one hand, she had experienced the first major orgasms of her young sexual life with this woman; this was new and exciting. She wanted more.

On the other hand, it frightened her to think of being in a relationship with someone older; a woman who seemed so worldly and imposing; so much in control.

They had left it with Sierra having Charlotta’s number and her proposal; it was Sierra’s call.

And it was a call she never made. And now here she was, deep into a relationship where she had become the submissive. And accepting it, being aroused by it. She gave the nipple ring a gentle tug, and felt a surge in her loins.


After Gwyneth mentioned the lodge and the end of year meeting she had been part of, Samantha became excited. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Fuck, I’d forgotten about that little, thing…meeting, whatever. There were, like, just four of us, senior girls, taken out to the lodge; we had little stupid cakes and shit and like, talked. All prissy, with everybody talking all polite and shit. Man, that was dopey. But Gwen-Slut is right, it was at your lodge, Ash. The Hillman fucking lodge.”

Ashley took this in, then looked at Gwyneth, “So Pussy-Slave, what else is in that brain of yours, when you aren’t thinking of fucking Mexicans?”

Gwyneth paused, letting the insult pass and reminding herself to just be natural. “Well, Mistress Ashley, what came to mind was; to use Bronwyn’s cell number and call her, Samantha calling makes sense, as a senior this year wanting to have Bronwyn take on the role next year. Then meeting at the lodge to discuss. You just need to set up a time. You can usually get what you want from the school, Mistress; and you get Bronwyn out of class and to the lodge.

Once you have her alone, you make her strip, we take pictures, have her do nasty things and video them and then blackmail her. She’s your bitch. I don’t think she’d put up much of a fight; she seems to be a, um, pussy.”

Ashley looked hard at Gwyneth, and considered. It actually sounded reasonable. “Yeah, but she’s not going to come with one of us, I don’t think…”

“That’s where my mom comes in.” Gwyneth continued.  “She’s already met Bronwyn, she’s already working on one thing involving her mother, so I can’t see Bronwyn being all suspicious if my mom is the, um…helper. There are tons of girls hanging around her, but I don’t think she has any friends yet, so she really is alone.”

“Hhhhmmmmmnnn,” Ashley murmured. Even Samantha looked

ok with this. This just might work. Man, it would be great, Ashley pondered, to have that Scottish whore on her knees getting her ass whipped. She smiled.


Later, looking over their schedules, Ashley and Samantha considered Wednesday or Thursday afternoon as the target date for the ‘Scottish-Whore’ as they were now referring to Bronwyn. Ashley met with Natalie Monday morning before classes had begun.

Natalie informed her that the lodge was going to be used for something and had been cleaned and was ready for whatever she needed it for. Natalie had been given a key for her use in getting things ready, and she would have it available this week if they needed it. Ashley was vague about why she might need the hall and Natalie didn’t pry. Ashley did mention that they might need Natalie to pick up Bronwyn Macquarie at some point.

The two girls agreed with Gwenny-Slut’s suggestion that Samantha be the contact rather than Ashley; it made sense in several ways. They also decided to not have a lot of time between when they notified ‘the whore’ and when they would meet. That way she wouldn’t have time to do any checking.

The decision they made was to send her a text message Tuesday and have the meeting Wednesday. Ashley permitted herself a smug smile; this should be just fucking awesome, she thought.


Monday night and things were busy at the Macquarie home. Pauline had begun moving things in, but right now Zoe Manatos thought this would be the time to make sure everything was clear with Fiona, Bronwyn and Pauline about their relationship with Manatos (and, therefore, Mr. Hillman.)

The three of them were sitting crowded on the small

couch in the den; Bronwyn looking curious, Pauline looking anxious and Fiona looking alarmed.

Manatos, meanwhile, stood looking in her superior way at all three women in succession; Bronwyn watching her for a sign, Pauline continuing to look anxious and Fiona now looking down, likely aware that humiliation was in the offing. Hers.

“Fiona,” Manatos spoke in a quiet but commanding voice, “Kindly stand.” Fiona stood slowly, and then looked at Manatos with sad eyes. “Pauline,” Manatos continued, “Undo Fiona’s pants and take them down. Bronwyn, you move over to this chair, I want you to have a good view.”

Bronwyn and Pauline both looked at Manatos with alarm, but saw the warning in her eyes. Pauline went down to her knees before Fiona and began unzipping the woman’s slacks and taking them down.

“Here,” Manatos held out her hand and Pauline gave her the pants. “Now, take off her blouse.” Pauline did this, Fiona looking down all the while, and gave the blouse to Manatos. Bronwyn sat looking a little alarmed still, but Manatos had noted with amusement that the girl’s right hand had slipped between her thighs.

“Fiona, turn and face the wall.” Manatos commanded and Fiona turned so her back was to the group. “Take her panties down, Pauline.” Pauline’s hands were shaking as she took down the sexy black thong and pulled it off. Manatos took it from her and tossed it on the couch. “Fiona, remove your bra.” Fiona complied and handed the bra to Manatos, and then stood naked, but with her back still to them.

Manatos looked over at Bronwyn who was getting into her own zone, eyes half closed and her hand squeezing her sex. “Bronwyn”, Manatos spoke clearly, “Stand now and get your clothes off too, quickly. Yes, everything. Good, very good.”

In a moment Bronwyn was standing naked in front of her

chair, hands at her sides. Pauline was ordered to strip as well and kneel behind Fiona. “Spread Fiona’s ass cheeks, Pauline.” Clearly breathing hard from both anxiety and arousal, Pauline reached up and grasped Fiona’s round buttocks, spreading them apart, with Manatos now coming behind her so she could watch as well. “Put your tongue in that hole, Pauline, and make the woman feel good,” Manatos commanded with a smile.

Pauline leaned forward and touched the brown, tight hole gently before Manatos reached out and forced the girl’s head in, while at the same time bending Fiona at the waist. Pauline began to lick with more urgency and Fiona responded by moving her hips a little; a few feet away Bronwyn had begun rubbing herself with urgency. Manatos had all this continue until Fiona’s tight hole was glistening with saliva and both Macquaries were moaning audibly.

“Ok, Pauline, stop and stand straight, hands behind your head.” Pauline did this and Manatos moved Fiona around and placed her on her knees before the girl, moving her face into Pauline’s crotch. Manatos then moved to the side and took something from behind a chair, and brought it down swiftly against Pauline’s ass; it was a riding crop and it made a swish and a thwack as it connected with the firm round cheeks of the athletic Dudas, who cried out sharply in pain, but stayed in place.

“Ok, Fiona, whenever I am unhappy with how you’re licking sweet Pauline, someone, or perhaps all, will receive a stroke. Now, get going.” Spurred on by this warning, Fiona bent to her task, and soon her tongue was darting and licking the puffy labia of Pauline Dudas, with the girl now moaning and moving her hips, while trying desperately to stay in one spot.

“Is that good, Pauline?” Manatos purred.

“Ohhh, oh oh oh, ummmm, oh God, mmmmm, ohhh.” The girl responded. After a few moments, Manatos, like a movie director, moved people around, placing Bronwyn on her knees at the front of the line, with Pauline behind her, then with Fiona behind Pauline. Finally Manatos, first lifting her skirts, took the head of the line and placed her own crotch in Bronwyn’s face.

On command, everyone began to lick, no one really needing any threats or direction. In a short while, Fiona had inserted a finger into the wet opening before her and suddenly began rapidly massaging the clitoris rising from the top of Pauline’s cleft. The girl cried out louder, legs buckling briefly, but intent on pleasuring the pussy that her face was mashed into.

With the level of arousal all around, it wasn’t long before cries of joy were coming from gaping mouths. Pauline finally slouched down, collapsing onto Bronwyn who had sprawled forward on the carpet, following Manatos’s orgasm that had caused the leader of the line to collapse back in a chair, a smile on her face and her eyes closed. Pauline wrapped her arms around Bronwyn’s thighs, while continuing to kiss her legs and gently stroke her back.

In time, Manatos recovered and commanded. “Ok, Pauline and Fiona, you two on the couch, side by side, face each other.” The two, in almost a dream-like state, took their positions. “Alright, close your eyes and let’s see some loving kisses. Hmmm, that’s it. Nice Pauline. Ok, Fiona, suck on that beautiful tongue, oh yeah. That’s nice. That’s very nice.”

The two women’s hands were stroking each other’s arms, their eyes were shut, their mouths were locked. Pauline had slipped her hand between Fiona’s thighs; Fiona began to ride the hand and make little moaning noises. Bronwyn gazed up from her place on the carpet with a drugged expression.

Manatos now stood and adjusted her skirts, a broad smile on her face.


Tuesday morning, Samantha and Ashley were huddled in a

staff washroom, having secured a key to it from Ms. Woodward. Ashley had found it surprisingly easy to get approval for Bronwyn to be taken out of class on Wednesday afternoon.

Of course, she was unaware of Manatos working behind the scenes to make this happen; she just figured it was more ‘Scottish-whore’ business.

Now they were texting the cell number Gwyneth had secured and sending a message to Bronwyn. They discussed it and were agreed to keep things brief and direct. Samantha directed the text to Bronwyn Macquarie stating it was Samantha Knight, a senior, who had been asked to talk with Bronwyn about a senior leadership role next year, blah blah, and they could use a lodge on the school property which was reserved for special clubs etcetera. She gave the suggested time of 2:00 PM Wednesday and sent the text.

Ashley and Samantha looked at each other, Samantha holding up her crossed fingers. Minutes passed, and nothing. The two girls started to get their things together; Bronwyn might not answer her phone in school; the girls weren’t supposed to. Ashley and Samantha headed off to their classes.

At noon Ashley was coming down the main hall to meet Samantha (and to be joined by Gwyneth) when she saw Sam coming toward her in a hurry; a large smile on her face. Huddling behind a pillar, Sam showed the text response. “Hi there, thank you Samantha. I would love to chat. Where should I meet you? Bronwyn.”

The two girls gave each other big smiles and two thumbs up, then went to find their companion slave; she had, after all, been very helpful.


In the Macquarie home, Zoe Manatos had received the text from Samantha while sitting on the couch with Fiona. Well, Fiona was actually on the floor, kissing and licking Manatos’s pussy. Both Macquarie women were excellent at this, Manatos noted with approval. The phone number which Gwyneth had supplied did of course belong to Manatos. Bronwyn didn’t yet have a cell phone; Manatos wasn’t sure if she wanted the girl to have one.

She read the request from Samantha with a small smile on her face, and as she typed the text response, Fiona began working a finger into Manato’s wet pussy, all the while tugging and slurping on her labia. Manatos needed to pause Fiona for a moment while she finished her message. After the response text, she sent another one; to Mr. Hillman.

With the texts on their way, Manatos lay back and said, “Give it to me, Fiona. That’s my girl.” She slumped back and just grinned.

She seemed to be doing that a lot these days.


“Hello, my dear Hillman. Great again to hear from you.” Jazeem murmured. He sipped some delicious espresso and waited for the response.”

“Hello, Jaz, sorry about the delay. Things took a little longer to move along. Your…package should be arriving…Friday, as things stand. I’ll be in touch if there are any more developments. But things are moving into place nicely.”

“Wonderful, my dear fellow. Wonderful. And you…this is what you wish. And do not misunderstand…I do not judge you. The two of us have been in some interesting places and have had each others’ backs; no, I would never judge. As long as you are certain, I will do whatever is needed.”

“Thank you, Jazeem; you are the one man I trust implicitly. My plans have not altered; my desires have not changed. Having you involved makes it work. The die is cast.”

“All be praised, my dear Hillman. As it is written, destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice.”


On Wednesday the girls decided to each take their own car, just in case. Just in case of what, they weren’t sure. Gwyneth would go with Natalie who needed her own car as well. As always when one is waiting for something, time drags on. The morning classes seemed to take forever. At one change, Ashley spotted Bronwyn walking along and chattering with a group of students clustered around her ‘like flies’ Ashley mused. She hasn’t a care in the world, Ashley thought with malice.

At noon, the two plotters ate little, their stomachs in turmoil. Gwyneth managed to keep her emotions in check although her mind was going wild with speculation.

At 1:45 PM, as they had agreed, both Samantha and Ashley slipped out of class. A message came over the P.A. for Ashley to check in at the office, and her heart went into panic mode, but she kept the same under-control face on. She waved Samantha off saying, “I’ll catch up; you get going.”

Ashley waited at the counter for a couple of minutes before someone came and handed her an envelope. It was from Natalie and contained a key; likely a spare for the lodge, just in case.

From her vantage spot across the hall, Zoe Manatos watched Ashley with interest. She had sent word to Natalie to delay Ashley; she didn’t want the two girls arriving together. She now called Natalie.


“Hey, It’s Zoe. Where are you?”

“Maybe a minute from the lodge. It’s just around this curve.”

“Good. So you’ll leave your car out front where the two

of them can see it.”

“Check. Are you coming soon?”

“I’ll be leaving in two minutes. See you soon.”

Natalie looked over at Gwyneth and smiled, Gwyneth looking like she was about to explode. In her hands she held a bag containing several needles and the necessary drugs. Natalie pulled up in front of the lodge, an historic looking building that housed a main banquet hall, a kitchen, a small ‘gym’ and eight bedrooms. Behind the main lodge was an out building and what was once a stable.

Natalie and Gwyneth jumped out as soon as they parked and dashed to the door. They needed to be inside and out of sight before Samantha arrived.

Samantha remembered the journey last year to the lodge. The girls she rode with were all ‘goodie-goodies’ and the ride had been quiet and boring. It was not difficult to find the lodge. There was only one road, leading from behind the main school buildings and courtyard, off south, winding through a small wooded area, including a bridge over a small creek, and then to the back of the Windsor School property, which was several acres in total, and there the lodge stood.

It was about a ten minute drive, and as Samantha came up the entry rode she saw a car that she was sure was Natalie Roth’s. It was parked in front of the building with its distinctive red roof and bell tower.

Samantha parked beside the other vehicle and thought about calling Ashley, but decided to get started. The plan was that Natalie would help them get Bronwyn under control and then leave, so the two of them could do what they wished with her.

Samantha walked briskly to the building and found the door unlocked as expected. She entered the lodge and saw Natalie standing by a doorway, “This way.” She said, and disappeared. Samantha followed, moving quietly so as not to alert Macquarie. She noticed movement to her left and, turning, saw Natalie just a step or two away.

“I thought you were with; ahhhww!” She yelled in surprise, as Natalie had jabbed her with something. “What the fuck…” she began, but the room became blurry very quickly, and Samantha dropped to her knees. “unnnhhnng,” was all she could muster, as Gwyneth now came and stood looking at the fallen girl.

“Quick, Gwen, drag her this way,” the two Roths each took an arm and hauled the larger Samantha into a side room that functioned as a cloak room during events. Samantha was awake, but barely. They gagged her and blindfolded her and tied her hands and feet behind her back and then bent her at the knees and connected the wrist and ankle bonds so Samantha was in a triangle shape. Then they hurried out, as Ashley should be arriving any moment. Natalie went to move her car.


And back at Windsor Academy for Girls, Bronwyn Macquarie moved down the hallways during a class change, surrounded by her fans. She continued to be the star attraction, and would be for the remainder of her time there, oblivious to her role in all of what was happening this afternoon.


(End of Chapter 19)