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A Field Of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 18 Our Remedies In Ourselves Do Lie

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 18 Our Remedies in Ourselves Do Lie 

“He’s in the Canaries,” the man said.

“Still?” Amara asked.

“Well, he did leave, went to England as I told you and then Greece for a short bit and then he went back to Gran Canaria.”

“And you think he has a, um, lady friend?”

“No thinking at all there, he definitely had a woman with him. Doukas has his own villa, right, and my source has seen the two out together, driving and walking. Having dinner.”

“Any name?”

“Haven’t asked, but I believe she’s a Brit.”

“Hmmmm,” Amara murmured.


“Mom,” Sophie asked, a catch in her voice, “Dad called. What’s goin’ on?”

Geneva calmed herself. She knew this moment would come the second she signed the divorce papers. She was planning to call Sophie but Peter had said he wanted to talk with her. “Well, dear, I think you’re old enough to know what’s happening. Your father and I have decided to, um, split (she hated that word) and, really, it makes sense but I know, especially for you, it is sad.” She knew she had rambled on and waited now for Sophie’s response.

“Does this have anything to do with…Nicole?” Sophie asked in a quiet voice.

Geneva paused for a moment. It concerned Nicole, or at least, Nicole was involved, but truthfully, the relationship had ended for all intents and purposes long before Nicole came into Geneva’s life, and that is what she told her daughter.

“I don’t trust her.” Sophie said, and Geneva felt a strong twinge, thinking of the other paper she had recently signed; the one that made her a slave.

She grimaced at the thought, while also realizing the arousal she felt simply thinking about it.


Nicole sat at the bar; she had downed one glass of wine fairly quickly, wanting to get the taste of the two women out of her mouth. After dressing and getting out of the building as quickly as she could, Nicole had waited impatiently for the taxi she had ordered, standing and shivering in the January cold, deciding then she needed to get somewhere warm and have a drink; or several.

Both Sheffield and Cezair had sported very hairy pussies and once she had been released, Nicole felt like she spent twenty minutes just picking disgusting hairs out of her teeth. Both women were also grinders; they mashed Nicole’s face into their groins and humped her aggressively. Nicole had washed her face in the bar restroom, but believed she still smelled of ‘pussy’.

Nicole had now started her second glass of wine, also needing to wash from her mind the sense of betrayal she felt. The fact she had no options really did not make things easier. Looking up, a woman three stools down caught her eye and smiled. Nicole looked at her, but the woman was older and Nicole felt no interest; likely another hairy pussy.

Looking around, she did notice a young woman in a booth diagonally from the bar, at that moment in an intense conversation with another girl who looked maybe a year or two older. When the second girl tossed a twenty on the table, got up and put on her coat and left without another word, Nicole gazed at the young woman. Half of her blonde head was shaved closely and she had a nose ring, but other than that she looked ‘normal’. The fact she had been served meant she was over twenty-one, but she had one of those young, almost pure, child-like and innocent faces. A little like Tatjana.

When the girl looked over at her, Nicole smiled sympathetically, she hoped, and the girl smiled nervously in return, then quickly looked away. Nicole continued her stare and the girl looked back and smiled again and Nicole rose, taking her wine with her and sliding into the booth opposite the young woman.

“Hi there,” Nicole began pleasantly, “couldn’t help but notice that….” She nodded her head in the direction of the departed friend.

The girl smiled and looked down, and sipped her drink, which Nicole regarded, as it looked like she was having a hot drink. “You’re drinking tea?” Nicole asked.

The girl smiled, showing braces (Nicole feeling a definite rush). “It’s Chai Love You tea, you know, green tea and rum.” She sipped some more.

Nicole glanced under the table and noticed, despite the weather, the girl had on a thin skirt with knee high white socks. Fucking Christ, Nicole thought, white knee highs. Without deliberating too much, and feeling the need to do something, Nicole extended her black boot and ran the toe up the side of the girl’s leg. “I’m Nicole.” She said as she did this, with her most disarming smile.

“Rachel,” the girl said quietly, looking alarmed in spite of the smile, but not moving or closing her legs. Nicole applied pressure and Rachel opened her legs farther.

“What was the disagreement about, if you don’t mind me asking? You can tell me to fuck off, I would understand. I’m kinda’ nosey.” Nicole laughed, and Rachel brought her legs together and squeezed Nicole’s foot, before spreading them again.

“Well, she’s my, um, girlfriend, or she was, but she’s pissed ‘cuz I was hangin’ with another chick tonight. It was no big deal but now she’s salty, like, fuck; she’s a real princess you know and, well, you know….” Rachel sipped some more ‘tea’, letting Nicole figure out the ways of princesses. Being one herself, Nicole

‘knew’ completely.

“Finish your drink and let’s go check out some other places; this bar’s dead.”

Rachel looked up with big, blue eyes, smiling uncertainly, colored braces showing, before saying quietly, “Okay.”


Hailey took a glass out of the cupboard and then poured some orange juice, taking her time. Her thin night clothes clung to her sleek, round body, the nipples of her lovely breasts clearly visible; Nicole noticed everything, but today she was relaxed enough, and hung over just enough, to ignore her instincts.

“Who was that girl last night?” Hailey asked.

Nicole could have bluffed with ‘what girl’ but what would be the point? “A friend,” she said.

“She, uh, seemed pretty young.” Hailey said, a small smile on her face as she put the juice back in the fridge.

“Yeah?” Nicole also smiled, remembering Rachel’s braces and her lips against her vagina.

Hailey impulsively dropped to her knees beside Nicole’s chair. “Why don’t you just have me, if you like them young?” She implored.

Nicole reached out to stroke the blonde hair, “Hailey, we’ve been through this already….”

“But, I’ve been eighteen for a while now,” Hailey argued.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Nicole looked at the girl, trying to come up with a way to explain her feelings. “I would explain it to you if I could, because it’s not about, um, desire. I was, uh, involved with Sophie, right.”

“Yeah, that was great, hmmmm?” Hailey smirked.

Nicole regarded her; she was too sharp for her own good. “What d’you mean there, nosey-pants?”

Nicole looked down, “Well, Sophie wasn’t into it,” she said quietly.

Part of Nicole wanted to carry this on, but she forced that away; the less said about Sophie, the better.

“Is it ‘cause I’m not pretty enough?” Hailey murmured.

“Oh Christ.” Nicole laughed, “You really don’t get it. You are beautiful. Fuck, I would like, um, oh, forget it.” Nicole pressed a hand against her temple. “Why aren’t you seeing anyone?”

Hailey pondered that as she sat gazing up at Nicole; thinking she liked this perspective. Since the thing with Alexis had ended she had just, drifted. She was doing well at school, which she had thrown herself into and now she really needed to make a decision about college, but everything else just died off; she had zero social life.

“I, um, dunno, nothing’s come up. It’s not like I’m, uh, hiding or anything….”

Nicole looked again at the girl; she was like a flower, budding out into something astonishing; and she would love, the predator part of her, to enjoy every inch of this young body, like she had with Rachel. But, this was different, for some reason.

“Why don’t you ask someone out; take the initiative, bring someone home?” She suggested.

Hailey looked away and then back up. There had been a couple of girls (being at an all-girl school made meeting guys more of a challenge) who Hailey had sort of checked out, but that was as far as it had gone. Maybe she should try harder…”

But in the end, she’d prefer to just be Nicole’s toy.


Peter van der Strom looked down at the document; it seemed so impersonal, so emotionless, these pieces of paper announcing the end of a twenty-five year relationship. He wasn’t regretting anything; it wasn’t that. And it wasn’t like he thought he could have

salvaged his marriage; what was the point, really?

But it still seemed cold and lacking anything, well, human. The marriage had been very human with the ceremony and the friends and the celebration. Then all the years together and their lovely daughter, watching her grow, building a life. Now this? This was just a door closing on an empty room.

As he was brooding so, Ronald came to the door. “Ah, here you are, pondering in silence. Well, we can’t have that, can we? My friend Joel will be here soon and he’s dying to see the outfit I got you, so let’s go, chop chop, as they say, tally ho and all that….”

Smiling a self-conscious smile, Peter stood and went off to get dressed, his erection already growing at the thought. This was, after all, his new life, a life he had fantasized about forever; he needed to let the past go. Sometimes doors needed closing, even on empty rooms.


Hailey had been thinking about Nicole’s comments. She asked herself why she hadn’t tried to hook up with anyone since Alexis. She couldn’t come up with a reason. It wasn’t like she was distraught or hiding away; she had missed Alexis, or more correctly, what she and Alexis did; but that sense of loss had passed after a few days and she hardly ever thought of her old ‘girlfriend’. So, what was the problem? Being at an all-girl school, she pondered, it should not be difficult to meet chicks.

But Hailey had always been reserved and self-conscious. She did not take notice of the eyes that followed her; she unconsciously brushed off the attention. What she did think about was the possible shame of rejection.

What if she came on to a girl and the girl ran away in horror? Hailey fussed over that scenario every time she noticed a girl. With the final year of her school life coming soon to an end, she really (really) didn’t want to mess things up.

But she did miss companionship and the intimacy she had shared with Alexis. Today, she was determined she would try harder to meet someone; and she actually already had someone in mind.


The house was sold, the papers signed and delivered and now today Geneva was at the next step in her new life. Christina had come for her and taken her to this little tattoo parlor. The owner / artist was a friend of Christina’s and familiar with the slave tattoo system.

It had been a little unpleasant but now it was over and Geneva had a small black line of letters and digits on the side of her left breast. You needed to look closely to see what it said; from the distance it looked like a mole or something. They were now on their way back to Nicole’s; Geneva’s breast would be allowed to heal completely and then she would be going to a woman who lived not far from Nicole, in the very same upscale community in fact; a wealthy divorced woman who now wanted to explore her fantasy of owning a female slave.

The woman had seen the photos of Geneva and was very happy with the possibilities. Eighty-five hundred dollars might seem steep to some, but to this woman, it was a bargain for a human ‘toy’. It would happen in two weeks and she couldn’t wait.

In a couple of days, Geneva would move to Christina’s house for training.


“Very good, sir.” Olivia Sheffield said and turned off her phone. It occurred to her she had not actually seen Mr. Doukas in person for weeks; they communicated lately entirely by phone or email. Things were different.

It wasn’t like she was sitting around on her hands waiting for directions, as it were; but she just felt ‘out of the loop’. She knew Doukas was involved with someone; it hadn’t taken Sheffield long, with her legion of operatives, to get all the details on Mr. Doukas’s new ‘friend’. She did so of course with the utmost discretion; there was no way she would knowingly upset her boss.

Thinking of that, she took out the folder labelled ‘AM’. It had been ten days now since her interrogation of Martin and she knew action was needed; but she would not be rushed; this too required discretion.

As well, Amara Manos had been dispatched by Doukas to a series of visits along the European/Russian border, involving both arms and girls. She had only returned to Belgrade yesterday. The two men Sheffield had in place in Belgrade had been sent off on other business while Manos was away but they would be back in place tonight.

Sheffield was ready to take the next step; her only hesitation was thinking of Doukas’s reaction. She mulled over at length about conferring with him, but had reached the decision that action and an apology was better than permission. She would put the wheels in motion soon.


Rosalind Kane was certain this time. She had been so extra careful, and as she left for lunch she nodded cheerfully to Madelaine at the front desk; no hint that she would never return.

Her last contact with Alastair’s associate ended with Kane just giving the man all the remaining money with his promise to ‘get the job done’; and that was that; great if it worked. If the money was just gone Kane really didn’t care.

For now, ‘Plan B’ was starting. And it would end with Kane in a little rural cottage outside Dunoon. She had carefully and quietly over the last six weeks (through Alastair’s guy, so that wasn’t a total loss) had a new passport and other official papers created in the name of Mary-Anne Jeffries; it had cost another thirty thousand pounds, but to Kane it was a small price.

She had all her money, and it was still substantial,

deposited in various places and she would have access to it from any major city, like Edinburgh.

Hopefully the man would be successful in taking Doukas out and none of this would matter. Whatever; her new life would be starting this afternoon.


The two Serbs were now back at it, watching; waiting. Amara did not go out often, so it was tedious; but the money they made balanced that, and only one guy had to keep watch for the most part, so the second could do other things.

The taller of the two was at present reading the most recent message from Sheffield, and he passed it along to his partner. They were to enter the little bungalow the next time the woman left and make sure it was easy to do and that there were no obstacles.

Amara did not have a heavily guarded home; she did not want to attract attention with a lot of security. She personally felt no threats; she kept a low profile and was essentially a gun for hire, even if it was exclusively for Doukas. It was not her business. There was more actual danger to Amara when out on assignments.


Nils Woodford sat on a hard park bench, trying to look ‘normal’, but having a hard time with that. He was a man much suited to country estates, board rooms and cocktail parties, not clandestine meetings in lonely, out of the way places.

But when one is meeting an assassin, what is one to do?


Olivia Sheffield stood waiting for the door to open; when it did, Marie Prescott greeted her cordially. Sheffield was now in New York and looked to be here for a while, at least that was the impression she had gotten from Doukas. For now she was just checking in on Tatjana, the ‘project’ as Sheffield thought of her.

They still had no plans for her, and had not used her in any manner; yet Doukas seemed fine with just keeping her, like a ward of sorts.

Prescott invited Sheffield into the apartment and took her coat, Sheffield placing her ever-present briefcase by the door. Tatjana came in and stood smiling up at the women.

“Hey Tat, you remember Mrs. Sheffield?”

Tatjana extended a hand and smiled, “Yes.” She said simply.

“Come this way, Ms. Sheffield. We can talk in my office.” The two women continued down the hall and turned into the first room on the right. Tatjana stood watching them with interest. When they had disappeared into the room, she moved silently to the open door and stood for a moment listening. She smiled and returned to the living room and then eyed Sheffield’s expensive briefcase.

Then she did a curious thing. She brought her ever-present I-pad up and looked through it, like one would a camera. She was focused on Sheffield’s briefcase. She pressed the side button and then smiled.

One would have thought she had just taken a picture of the briefcase, if one had been present. An odd thing, surely.

Tatjana then went back to her room and sat on the floor, the ever-present smile on her face.


Gilad sat with the man known only as ’Z’; he had been brought here with a hood over his head, which had just been removed.

“Welcome, my friend, sorry about the secrecy.” Z murmured, albeit in Hebrew.

Gilad said he understood; was there anything new?

“Yes, there is, at least regarding our…friend, Louis Doukas.”

Gilad nodded his understanding.

“We have agreed that the best place for a hit on him is when he is in America.” Gilad’s eyebrows rose. “We have targeted some men in New York and Philadelphia that fit the profile; they are either Saudis or from Tunisia, and will be decoys or scapegoats.”

“America, that is intriguing.” Gilad said. “I would have thought Eastern Europe.”

“That’s the back-up plan.”

At that moment an assistant entered with two cups of espresso, and the conversation was paused.


The tall Serb inserted the second metal tool into the lock, and the click told him it was open. Carefully, soundlessly, he entered, quickly placing two soft sacks over his shoes. He took the small kitchen space in three strides, noted the hallway, the front door and then left, retracing his steps out and locking the door with his two metal probes.

He moved quickly down the laneway and then across the narrow street and around, coming back to the surveillance house by the back door.

When he entered he found his shorter companion in the front room; they had been joined by a woman in her fifties: medium height, olive complexion, dark hair just greying. She had a mild look about her, and anyone who passed her on the street would take her for just another woman, possibly someone’s grandmother. No one would guess she was a trained killer; that was one reason she was so successful.


In Geneva, Louis Doukas was enjoying life as he always did; more so now that he had Daphne in his. They were at her home; in a few days, at the end of the month, he would continue on to England; she would join him there for a while, as the plan was for him to be in London for a few weeks. Tonight however they were doing what they enjoyed; sharing a lovely meal, having good wine, then sitting with coffee and discussion, Doukas blithely unaware of the angry forces stirring around him.

Unaware of how he had been targeted; how, even as he sat sipping the dark, rich coffee he favored, plans were being shared in several places, all with the same goal; his death.


Hailey watched Brooke head down the hallway to the computer lab. The girl was an odd choice for the tall and blonde Hailey; Brooke being short and dark, but Hailey had not rushed this decision, she had been very systematic and observant for the last while, and Brooke was her choice.

The girl was a popular and intimidating person. She was on all the main clubs, including council, and she was known as a girl one didn’t cross. But Hailey believed she had seen Brooke casting glances her way several times; the girl hung out with a group but Hailey had discretely checked, and no one knew of any male ‘complications’.

Hailey followed the girl into the lab, sitting one computer over from her. This was not random; Hailey was one of the more advanced computer ‘nerds’ in the school, but because she was also a gifted athlete, no one considered her a true ‘nerd’. On the other hand, computer science was the subject that gave Brooke the most trouble.

The hour together unfolded as Hailey had hoped; she had been able to assist Brooke and Brooke had been happy to get to know a student many people admired, even if the girl herself did not appreciate that. Hailey was astounded when Brooke accepted her offer to hang together after school, and when they ended up back at her house she felt like pinching herself; was this actually happening?

They were now sitting side by side and regarding

Hailey’s laptop, checking out some social media. Hailey decided now was the time to try something.

“You check out porn much, Brooke?” Hailey offered in her most innocent voice.

Brooke laughed, “Yeah, when I can. Shit, who doesn’t. You?”

“Every day,” Hailey replied, finding a ‘gang bang’ site. The two girls then watched a couple of videos of a lone girl being fucked by several men in turn, before Hailey found an all-girl gang-bang site.

The only issue that Hailey had with these sites was that the girls all looked like ‘porn stars’, over-stuffed breasts, heavy make-up. Even on the lesbian-friendly sites it was like the women were all part of a male fantasy. And was this what men fantasized about? Women like this? Hailey wanted to see some girls that looked ‘normal’, the kind you would see at the gym or in a mall. Or at her school.

Hailey and Brooke were watching an ‘ambush’ video, a group of women grabbing someone and abusing and raping her for retaliation or whatever. “What do you think of these women, Brooke?” Hailey asked. She had noticed Brooke’s hand rubbing her own thigh in a nonchalant manner, inching closer to her crotch.

“Um, whaddya’ mean?”

“Well, I think they sorta look like sluts.”

“Yeah, well they are in a porn video, Hails.” Brooke snorted.

“Yeah, but wouldn’t you wanna see, like, some regular girls doing this?”

“Would you?” Brooke asked.

Hailey turned to look right into Brooke’s eyes, “Yes. I would. A lot.” She said.

Brooke smiled.


It was Monday, with February just about done. Hailey and Brooke were meeting for the first time since their ‘porn discussion’ day. Brooke had a family function on the weekend so that was that, but now they sat in a coffee shop, corner booth, both with grins on their faces.

“Fuck, Hails, I couldn’t get our talk outta my head all weekend. I’d be sittin’ there with cousins and shit and they’d go ‘Brooke, you listenin’?’ and I’d be like. ‘Whaaa?’, she laughed.

“Yeah, I get it, B. So give me your, um, ideas.”

“Well, this is hard ‘cuz, you know, nobody likes to talk about shit, right?”

“Right. But you an’ me gotta talk some shit,“ they laughed.

Brooke then smiled a little smile, “So, I’m guessing you’ve gone down on a chick?”

“Yep. You?”

Brooke chuckled, nodding her dark head. “Yep. Soooo, I was thinkin’, we make a video of ourselves, like, for ourselves. An’ since it’s just the two of us in there, welllll, there’s no danger or anything, check?”

Hailey smiled. “Check.”

They raised their lattes to each other.

(End of Chapter 18)

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A Field Of Candles By LongDarkRoad Chapter 17 Time Shall Unfold What Plighted Cunning Hides

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 17  

Time Shall Unfold What Plighted Cunning Hides

Geneva was kneeling naked on the floor. Nicole and Christina sat at the table, drinking wine. Both had taken turns spanking the kneeling woman, Christina with more vigor than Nicole, who still did not really like this particular aspect of domination. But in the end Geneva’s ass was well reddened and she now waited obediently.

Christina had brought over a basic slave contract and she had just gone through it with Nicole who was now signing it. Nicole took the contract and a pen and placed them on the floor beside Geneva. “Sign on the bottom, my slave.”

“Y-yes, Miss N.” Geneva murmured, before adding her name on the indicated line. Nicole then took the paper and placed it before Christina to be witnessed.

After completing this task, Christina stood and walked over, standing behind Geneva. “Place your face on the floor and raise your hips.” Christina commanded and Geneva did as instructed. Christina then rubbed her shoe aggressively against Geneva’s shaved pussy, eliciting moans. “Ooooh, this bitch loves that, Miss N.” Christina remarked with a smile. “Stand slave and put your hands behind you.”

When Geneva had done this and was standing, trembling slightly, Christina stood beside her and asked quietly, “You know your owner is going to have you marked with a tattoo?” she purred.

“Yes, M-miss. I know that.” Geneva said, breathing hard.

“And you accept and agree to that?”

“Ye-yes, yes I do. I will be Miss N.’s p-property.” Geneva added in a quiet voice.

“Very good,” Christina said, running a finger down

Geneva’s face. “Very good indeed.”


”Hey,” the shorter of the two men called, although it wouldn’t have been in English, as both men were Serbs, “She’s coming.” The second man peered cautiously out the window and watched the tall, hooded figure come down the street.

The two had been watching the little yellow bungalow on Eighth Street in Belgrade for five days. So far there had been two sightings of a tall woman entering the house, but they had not been able to get a photo of her face. The second man readied his camera and then started taking shots. Tenth shot in, the woman lowered her hood and looked around quickly before entering.

The man rolled though the sixteen shots his camera had taken and smiled. There it was, at last, a shot of the woman’s face. He sent the series of shots off to his boss, Olivia Sheffield, and awaited her instructions.

Across the street, in the little bungalow, Amara Manos slouched into a chair and called Nicole’s number. It was Saturday and she would be home; they had arranged it.

“Amara.” Nicole’s voice came into her ear and Amara smiled.

“Hey there you, it’s been only two weeks since our last call, so I’m improving, yes?”

Nicole laughed. “Yeah, you’re improving in some areas; now if you could just get the whole sex thing worked out…”

They laughed.


Powell and Doukas sat in the early evening on their patio by their pool. Although it was late January the weather on Gran Canaria and Las Palmas was mild enough that all they needed was a sweater for her and a jacket for him.

As they sat, waiting for their coffee and dessert, finishing their Ouzo, their talk again was relaxed and engaging. As a treat, Doukas had brought in a chef for tonight to prepare a traditional Greek meal. They had started with salad (Greek!) of course before dining on a flavorful and filling Moussaka.

A server now brought the conclusion to their meal. Daphne sampled hers and asked, “Ummm, this is wonderful. What is it?”

“Galaktoboureko,” Doukas answered.

“What?” Daphne said; “Ok, ok, that’s good.” She added, as it looked like Doukas would explain. “I’ll take your word for what it’s called; but what is it?”

Doukas laughed, “Custard.” He grinned.

“Ahhh, it is lovely. Mmmm, and the coffee is excellent, as usual.”

“We Greeks take our coffee seriously, my dear,” Doukas murmured, drinking his. The chef had been warned that the coffee needed to be the best; or else. He wasn’t interested in finding out what the ‘or else’ was, Doukas’s reputation preceding the man, so the coffee was the best.

“You like your food, Louis.” Daphne smiled at him across the small glass table.

Doukas accepted another glass of Ouzo and sat for a moment in thought. “You know, when I was thirteen I was on my own. I lived, literally, on the streets for years. I came to appreciate a roof over my head when I could find one. I learned what time certain restaurants threw out left over food; that was how I survived.” He sipped his drink, Daphne watching silently.

“After I began to make money, I dreamed of a house; I dreamed of eating in nice restaurants. When I became wealthy, I began buying houses. I have them all over, as you know. But I also appreciate good food. Very much. I appreciate every meal.” He smiled at her.

“You can’t really appreciate something if you’ve never

gone without, right?” She said quietly.

“That’s exactly it.” Doukas said, raising his glass in salute. “Although some meals are much better because of the company.”

They laughed.


“Hey,” Dani exclaimed, poking her head into Nicole’s little office, “this just came for you.” She dropped an envelope, addressed, ‘N. Martin’, onto Nicole’s desk. There was no return address.

“Thanks, kiddo.” Nicole said, before adding, “So, how was your weekend, nudge, nudge, wink, wink?”

Dani laughed, “I think we’re starting to get used to the arrangement. I probably spent only an hour with my face between Shannon’s thighs, and Luke screwed her once, so, yeah, things are starting to slow down.”

Nicole threw a balled up piece of paper at her assistant, “Get out, you’re making me horny and it’s not fair.”

They both laughed.


Following the information in the letter she had received, Nicole had left work, driven home, dropped off her vehicle and taken a cab to where she was now. She looked out at the row of mostly warehouses and depressing looking brick buildings with some commercial shops, but there was little traffic and only the occasional person or two on the street.

When Nicole went to pay the driver he said it was already looked after and drove off. He seemed happy to be moving on; Nicole looked around her with unease and found the address on the letter. Just then her cell buzzed and she fumbled with the device a little getting it out of her coat pocket while wearing gloves.

“Yes,” she finally said into the device.

“Where are you?” Sheffield’s brusque manner greeted

her. It was the odious woman herself who had sent the missive earlier.

“I’m here, near the building. Wait, I think it is right in front of me.” She began walking toward a three-storey red brick building.

“Ok,” The phone went dead.

Nicole approached the front glass doors, opening them with caution. “Hello?” she said, but no answer came. She stepped inside and heard footsteps, the unmistakeable clack of high heels on concrete coming toward her, but from the briskness of the tap she didn’t believe it was Sheffield.

It wasn’t, although when the woman came into view she was similar to Sheffield; large. This woman though was not as heavy, although she did have large breasts. She was also black, or brown at any rate. Like Sheffield she was all business and said in greeting, “Ms. Martin. Follow me.” and turned, heading back up the corridor she had just come down, her hips rolling beneath her tight black dress. Nicole followed along, a feeling of dread within her.

“Damn,” she murmured.


Doukas and Powell went inside, the darkness now settling around them. Their villa was placed high on a piece of land that itself rose in elevation, and so had a wonderful view. The building’s architect had used this rise in design, and the living room of the villa had floor to ceiling windows offering a stunning view of the ocean, although at this moment it was a dark, quietly moving mass.

With the inside lights dimmed, the two sat, drinking more coffee, chatting. Doukas was not usually a loquacious man, but Daphne Powell had that ability of getting men to open up. She was a listener; she was not pretending to be one, and she genuinely enjoyed hearing Louis Doukas talk.

“So what was your first smuggling operation, Louis, How

did Dionysus come about?”

Doukas looked at her with affection. “I don’t know if there is time for all that, my dear,” He replied, but she was persistent and he began.

“Well, let’s see; it was a series of events, really, that happened.” He rubbed his prominent nose for a moment in thought. “When I left home, with very little, I did have one or two things belonging to my mother which I took, I guess, for sentimental reasons. It was years before I really bothered with them, hiding them in various places as I scrounged around. One was a letter to my mother from her sister in Athens.

At age eighteen I decided, without much thought, to travel to my home town and see if I could find my relatives. I did, my aunt and uncle greeting me warmly and with astonishment, believing me long dead of course.”

Doukas chuckled here. “My uncle was a bit of a crook it turned out and he had a good friend, a man named Gabriel Kantos, who gave me my first job, driving one of his trucks. Kantos, it turned out, was a slightly larger crook than my uncle.”

Doukas chuckled again over this. “Anyway, my dear, my past must be very boring to you; it is wonderful how you can listen.”

Powell laid a delicate hand on Doukas’s arm. “I’m listening because I’m interested. Now, how did this Kantos person evolve into Dionysus, or did he? You can’t stop here for heaven’s sakes.”

Doukas chuckled some more. He was actually enjoying this. “Fine, fine, here you go. Both my uncle and Kantos had real jobs; Kantos had a couple of trucks, and a boat and did hauling, at least that was the way it looked. In reality, Kantos was actually a smuggler; he could be hired to bring in just about anything for money; he had no scruples. I drove a truck for him and before long was doing everything.” He paused here to sip some coffee.

“Ok,” Daphne noted, “at least we now have trucks and a boat; that’s a connection to Dionysus.” She smiled.

“Yes, yes it is. But more than that, both my uncle and Kantos were kind of models for me; men who had one job but a more lucrative line as a side issue. I liked that, actually. Ok, let me speed things up with a couple of highlights.”

“Fine,” Daphne said, “But I’m finding this very interesting, so continue.”

Doukas sighed and took a breath. “When I was twenty-one my uncle up and died; heart attack; Boom! Here one day and then gone. My, um, grieving aunt took up with another man in jig time; I’m pretty sure it was already happening before, but she moved away to Italy a month after the death. I was sort of at loose ends, and had begun arguing with Kantos about many things. He was, to me, the kind of man that cannot see the forest for the trees.”

“But you could, my dear. And I mean that sincerely.” Daphne smiled.

“Well, the trees for me were drugs. Kantos was taking risks bringing in stuff that would fetch maybe five thousand American dollars on the street, while right next to him on the same stretch of beach, a shipment of drugs was coming in with a street value of two hundred thousand. He couldn’t get it; he didn’t want to understand it. We argued and it got quite nasty; he threatened to have me run out of town.”

They sat in silence for a moment, this story now up in the air. “And what did you do, for heaven’s sakes? Did he run you out of town?” Daphne prodded.

Doukas gazed out at the ocean. “No, no he didn’t. I didn’t give him the chance. I shot the son-of-a-bitch, dumped his body in the sea and took over his business. So, there. I guess you can say I was a self-starter.” He smiled a rueful sort of smile at her.

After a moment, Daphne spoke softly, “Oh my, my, my, but you are something, Louis. I believe your story. I do. All of it, even the bad parts. It’s a terrible story, when you think of it, yet I still like you just the same. Oh dear.”

She laughed, softly as well.


Nicole followed the rolling hips down a dingy corridor until they turned a corner and stopped in front of a large, uniformed man holding a rifle, his face partly covered. He looked nasty and threatening. The woman opened the door with a modern key card and they entered. This room was small, like a parlor. The woman turned and with a dour face said, “Remove your clothes.”

Nicole stared and stood unmoving. The woman rolled her eyes and gripped Nicole’s collar, “That man outside would be more than happy to come in and remove them for you, but I’m not sure he would stop with just your clothes, got it. Now get ‘em off or I call him in.” 

Was everyone connected with Doukas stupid assholes? Nicole pondered, then remembered Amara and realized no, but still…. In a few moments, trembling with cold, shame and anger, Nicole handed over her black thong. The woman took everything in the same dour manner, efficiently folding the clothes and stuffing them into a clear bag.

“This way,” she said when Nicole was naked, although she needn’t have bothered, as there was one door out to the hall and this other door leading into another room. Nicole followed her again, her feet cold on the bare concrete. In this second room, about twice the size of the first, the floor was still bare. In it there was a long narrow table with some electronic equipment on it, a large, very sturdy wooden chair, ominously bolted to the floor, a cot against one wall, an old school metal filing cabinet and a desk.

In front of the desk stood Olivia Sheffield. She had a small smile on her broad face.


When the document arrived, Peter van der Strom was not surprised; he had been expecting it, in fact. He knew his marriage was basically over, at least emotionally, years ago. Now that Sophie was off at college and he was essentially settled in London, divorce made sense, although he did feel a twinge of sadness.

As he was reading, Ronald came into the sitting area of their flat. Peter showed him the document and Ronald nodded, “Not a surprise, eh old chap.” Ronald laid on the cockney accent as a ’bit of a lark’ to lighten the mood; he knew Peter found it amusing.

“No, it’s not. Still, I’m feeling a little sentimental.”

“Understood,” Ronald said, sitting beside Peter and putting an arm around his shoulders. It was an odd relationship in that Peter was older and taller, but Ronald was the dominant one. “So,” Ronald murmured, “I believe you were going to make me breakfast, right?”

“Oh, yes, so sorry, got distracted.” Peter stood and smoothed his smock, before heading out to their little galley kitchen.

“I like that dress on you.” Ronald called, as Peter’s lanky frame moved out the door. He turned and smiled a self-deprecating smile, reddening a little as he always did when Ronald complimented him.

Ronald laughed.


Sheffield looked on with that same annoying bemused smile as the other woman, obviously her helper, fastened Nicole in the heavy chair. Her wrists and ankles were restrained with thick straps; a strap went around her waist and two straps went around her thighs; finally a strap went around her neck; Nicole was immobilized.

When this was all completed, the woman attached and inserted electro receptors, pads and tube; two pads on Nicole’s nipples, one above her heart, one on her throat, and two on her temples. The woman inserted the short tube into Nicole’s vagina, with Nicole protesting to no avail. When everything was attached, the woman went behind the table and fired up the equipment which looked to be several monitors of various sorts, a computer and some other devices.

Sheffield came to stand in front of Nicole, looking down at her with scorn. In her hand she carried a clipboard.

“Is this really necessary?” Nicole spat at the woman.

Sheffield stood quietly for a moment, then lashed out with a backhand that caught Nicole full on the side of her face. Sheffield then gripped Nicole’s face with an amazingly strong grasp that hurt, “Shut up, whore. You talk when you are asked.”

Nicole could taste the blood in her mouth and she struggled to keep her fear and rage under control.

Sheffield leaned back against the desk. “Now, Ms. Martin; I am going to ask you some questions, and you have both a carrot and a stick when it comes to the answers. First off, we have you hooked up to record your vitals, telling us if you are lying. Ms. Cezair here is an expert with this. However, more importantly, I already know the answers to most of these questions; but you don’t know which ones. If you give me a wrong answer, this will happen.”

She nodded her head and a jolt went through Nicole. It stunned her and was quite surprisingly painful. Nicole screamed, then struggled to find her breath; there was a ringing in her ears.

“That was a four, Slut; the dial goes to ten; unfortunately, if we left you on ten for more than thirty seconds, you would die. We don’t want that to happen, do we?” She smiled a malevolent smile.

Nicole shook her head; fear had now gripped her. Sheffield wasn’t just a bitch; she was a crazy bitch.

Sheffield then came and waved a piece of paper in front of Nicole’s face. It was a check. “But, Ms. Martin, even for a slut like you, we have a carrot. See, here is a check made out to cash for twenty-five thousand. Along with this check you will have our promise that our business with you is over. Finished. You will be free of us and clear of your debts. A very good deal all round, for you. All you need to do is tell the truth. Do you understand?”

Nicole nodded her head. She didn’t know really if she could trust this bitch, but Doukas had made the point that he wasn’t a liar; and for some reason Nicole believed that. “Ok, let’s begin.” Sheffield said. “First, are you a lesbian?”

Nicole snorted, “You know that.” she spat out, then considered. She didn’t want another jolt and she didn’t want to be hit. “Yes, I am a lesbian.”

Sheffield smiled a thin smile reminiscent of Doukas. “Quite so; we of course know you love to eat pussy. Now, did you and Amara Manos have an affair?”

So, Nicole thought, this is really about Amara, “Yes, we did.”

Sheffield moved to the door and exited. In a moment she returned with a cup of tea. “Ava, would you like anything?”

“Thank you Ms. Sheffield, I am fine. Both those answers showed as true, by the way.”

Sheffield nodded, then continued. “Have you been in contact with Manos in the last few weeks, by phone or in person?”

Nicole did not see the harm in answering this; after all it was Doukas who had given Amara leave to ‘use’ Nicole. “Yes, both. I have spoken with her several times since our ‘trip’, and she came to visit me once.”

“Has Manos ever spoken to you about her, em, assignments for Mr. Doukas?”

Nicole pondered, then replied, “All she has ever told me, once or twice, was where she was. She has never told me what she was doing; she said it could put me in danger.” Sheffield looked over at Cezair, who nodded.

“Has she ever spoken about doing work for others?”

Nicole stared at Sheffield. “I, uh, honestly don’t know. She doesn’t ever tell me details at all. I assume she only works for Doukas; she has never, never mentioned anyone else.”

“When the two of you last spoke via phone, did she say where she was?”

“Um, once she was in Romania, and she told me that. The last time she said she would be out-of-touch. Mostly I got the feeling that she was just at her home; I think that’s Belgrade; I, um, I’m not sure how I know that, but that’s what comes to mind.”

Sheffield regarded the woman; she was answering easily without any thought, not the sign of a liar. “What gave you the impression she was at home?”

“Hmmm,” Nicole considered this. “Well, she was smoking weed; one time I think she had been in the shower. I don’t know, the chatter just seemed like someone sitting around their house. There were never any other, like noises. It never sounded out of doors. Maybe I just assumed….”

Sheffield paused to drink some tea. “Has Amara ever confided her feelings to you, positive or negative, toward Mr. Doukas?”

Nicole hesitated for just a moment before saying, “She didn’t, um, like him.”

“She said that?”

“Not in, so many words. There was a history there, you know, um, between them; from way back. Doukas had harmed her in some way and, well, she had never totally forgiven him.”

“Did she ever confide in you any plans she may have had for…revenge?”

Nicole’s heart beat hard; this was a difficult question; she didn’t want to betray Amara but she was in a bad situation. If she lied, Sheffield would very likely know, she would be punished, or worse, and the

truth would be known anyway.

“I’m waiting, Ms. Martin.”

“Um, she said simply that Doukas had told her once that they were even, but she didn’t feel that way. Ummm, that they were…even. But she did not elaborate, you have to believe me. There was no specifics; just the emotion.”

This was actually very interesting to Sheffield. She knew the relationship with Amara preceded her own relationship with Doukas, and that had always bothered her. The fact that he had never given her details about what had happened with them, also bothered her. Now it was coming clearer.

Amara appeared to be shielding Martin, which made sense, so she would not let her in on anything remotely dangerous. But Martin had told her enough as it was.

For as they were doing the interrogation, Cezair was also running Nicole’s phone through a diagnostic device, mapping the locations of all her calls, in and out. Sheffield now wandered over and looked at the results. Cezair indicating that several calls had bounced off the same cell tower in Belgrade as the ones made to Tel Aviv.

That was it, as far as Sheffield was concerned. It was too much of a coincidence. Whether Amara had assisted the Mossad or not, she had been in touch secretly. That was treason.

Sheffield wandered back to Nicole, Cezair joining her. They released all the bonds and then fastened Nicole’s wrists behind her. After this was accomplished, Nicole was lifted off the chair and Sheffield sat down in her place, lifting her skirt and revealing she was wearing no under garments. Nicole was now on her knees staring at an extremely heavy dark brown pubic bush. For the first time Cezair cracked a smile and Sheffield let out a guffaw.

“We can’t miss out on the chance to have a real, live lesbian work on us, can we Ms. Martin?” She smirked.  “Service me and then Ava and you are done for the day. Be enthusiastic, because both Ms. Cezair and I enjoy laying on the paddle. She nodded in the direction of an implement hanging on one wall.

With everything that was happening Nicole had not noticed it. Both women laughed as Sheffield pulled Nicole’s face to her belly. (End of Chapter 17

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 16 To Rise By Sin And By Virtue Fall

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 16 To Rise By Sin and By Virtue Fall 

Christmas was, odd, for Nicole this year. Although it was usually a day she dreaded; estranged from her mother, no other relatives; no companion ever other than her slave girls, Christmas had always been a day to emphasize to Nicole everything she was missing. So she tried to avoid it, impossible as that was.

This year was odder than usual though, as Geneva and Sophie, two people who liked and celebrated Christmas, were with her. She decided to let them do their thing, which included a tree and presents, with the condition that they not get a present for her and she would get nothing for them. Christmas morning she would sleep in and then have Geneva serve her breakfast in bed after she and Sophie had done their Christmas ‘thing’.

The two women could have the one day to celebrate on their own, and then they would make up for it. Nicole planned her own, celebration, with two naked slave women being used and abused by her, as her…Christmas present. She chuckled at that.

But in the back of her mind was the fact that it would not be long before the frustrating Sophie would be heading back to classes.


“Gilad, holy smokes, we talk before Christmas, now at New Year’s. This is almost like we’re buddies.” Amara laughed.

“Yeah, well, this isn’t a chat, Am. Anything on your end about a Mossad agent. Or any sort of spy turning up on Doukas’s radar?”

“No, why? Like I said before, I haven’t actually spoken with Doukas in weeks; I get my orders from Sheffield or one of her lackeys. And it’s just the bare bones. What’s happened?”

Gilad was quiet for a moment. “One of the guys we had

in Austria has gone dark. That’s not totally unusual but it’s been long enough that we are concerned. We can’t track his cell or anything.”

“You think Doukas? He’s in The Canary Islands of all places. I think the man has a gal-pal.”

“Hmmmm,” was all Gilad offered.


In earlier times, the island chain now called the Canary Islands was often referred to as “the Fortunate Isles”. Fleets of Spanish galleons, on their way to or from the ‘New World’, would stop over at one or another of the protrusions of land in this little island chain.

Today, ‘the Canaries’ have become a traveler’s, rather than pirates’ or explorers’, preferred destination with yearly visitors numbering in the millions.

And tonight, as the old year came to a close, two of those visitors were happy to relax by their pool, the ocean minutes away, in a villa that provided every luxury possible in Las Palmas on Gran Canaria Island, one of the larger in the chain. They would likely consider themselves fortunate ones, if you asked them.

“There’s actually a big celebration here in a few days.” Daphne noted, sipping her Pinot Noir, sampling the local figs and regarding a brochure.

“I know, there are festivals and other public events. I think it’s January sixth. Whatever, I am leaving before then. But,” Doukas looked into Daphne’s eyes, “my, um, Christmas gift to you, is I paid for this place for two weeks. I want you to stay and relax, soak up the sun, walk the beach, enjoy the wonderful food. There’s no need to rush back anywhere.”

“Where will you be heading off to?” She asked, knowing that he likely would not tell her. Doukas frequently avoided answers to direct questions.

“Nothing mysterious, my dear,” he replied smoothly. ”Heading back to London to meet with the board and review the AGM results and then on to Athens to check

in; that’s actually my base of operations, you see. So, nothing too grand. Just business, really.”

“So how many days do I have you?”

Doukas chuckled; “I leave on the third.”

“Well then, tomorrow we won’t start the year off sitting around on our asses; let’s rent a vehicle and you can show me around the island, since you’ve been here before. How many times?”

“I usually try to get here once a year.”

“And you like to stay here, in this villa?”

“I do.” He paused, looking at her. “This is actually the first resort villa I ever purchased.”

Daphne looked at him, she looked at the pool; she looked at the spacious sixteen room villa with a staff of three. “This is yours? But I thought you said you paid rent?”

“For the staff. The place is mine. You can stay here all year if you like.”

Daphne finished her wine and her last fig, then smirked at him. “Maybe I will.” She said. “Can I go scuba diving?”

“You can do whatever your heart desires.”

They laughed; fortunate ones indeed. And the occasional pirate still.


Olivia Sheffield rose from the rickety wooden chair and crossed the dirty wooden floor of the room she was in. The sounds from the adjoining room had stopped and she wished to see for herself what was happening. She and three men were in one of the outbuildings of a farm outside Salzburg.

Two of the men were her ‘assistants’; the third, the one strapped to a table, was not. He had been the cause of the noise and now that there was none, Sheffield needed to know why.

Moving silently, despite her hefty frame and entering quietly she came to stand beside Richard, a man with a very civilized name known for doing very uncivilized things. They spoke in German, a language Sheffield had worked hard to learn simply to assist Doukas.

“He’s out,” Richard said in a voice that sounded like the speaker had just gargled gravel.

“I told you to take care.” Sheffield murmured ominously.

“He’s alive,” Richard added, waving a vial under the man’s nose, producing a gasp, and then the man opened his eyes.

Sheffield had been alarmed when she had heard a few weeks back that a target of Doukas’s was under surveillance from someone, and that her operative in Austria was as well. It took effort, patience and the kind of money available to her to finally find someone on the enemy side, this man, and capture him.

However, if she had been alarmed earlier, she was astonished when it was revealed that the man was a Mossad agent. Richard and his partner had been torturing the poor fellow now for three days, with limited results.

“We need to wrap this up,” Richard stated with emphasis. “We know they are looking for him; it’s only a matter of time.”

“And you’ve had nothing from him, really,”

“Very little, just the occasional word or sound as I’ve told you,” Richard muttered.

Sheffield looked up at the tall, lanky, unshaven man. He looked like a homeless person, but he was a skillful ‘interrogator’; if there was anything to get, he would have got it.

“Ok,” Sheffield spoke quietly. “Give it another hour. You are recording everything?”

“Of course.”

“Ok, another hour, then…shut this down. Get me all the recordings. Everything.” She would go over, carefully, every moment of the torture. Sheffield turned and walked off, with Richard shuffling along beside her.

When they were out of the room he spoke, “So I will take the body to Palmer’s gas furnace, there’s no problem there, but I think I should also deal with Jackes…” Richard nodded his head back in the direction of the room they had left.

Sheffield looked up at the man with no emotion showing on her broad face, “He’s your helper, do what you will with him.” She said calmly.

Richard eyed her for a moment, “That will be…another expense…”

Sheffield’s eyebrows rose, “Just take care of things. And get me all the recordings tonight.” She gave him a card with her hotel address. “Tonight.”



Nicole stood waiting by her front door; Sophie’s two modest bags were sitting there; she hadn’t actually brought much with her for her stay. The girl was saying goodbye to her mother and Nicole was waiting. It was Saturday, so no one needed to rush; Nicole was simply impatient, wanting to get through this.

It had been a frustrating relationship with the attractive young van der Strom. On the one hand, Nicole had spent hours abusing the girl, exploring every inch and crevice of her lovely body, doing more punishment than she had ever done all the while giving Sophie a number of strong orgasms.

On the other hand, Sophie had been compliant but not responsive, like an animated doll. No matter what Nicole tried, the girl remained out of reach emotionally; her little smile growing more annoying as the days past.

Sophie came down the hall now, leisurely. She had on

her regular outfit of t-shirt and sweat pants; her enticing body apparent beneath the fabric. Nicole regarded her for a moment and then pushed the girl against a wall where she stood, hands resting lightly on Nicole’s arms, waiting; eyes fixed on Nicole’s, unblinking.

Nicole leaned in abruptly and engulfed those heavy lips with her own, sucking and twisting. Sophie allowed this; she did not pull away; but she also did not kiss back.

When they broke apart, Nicole stared at the girl. “What you want isn’t going to happen, Nicole.” Sophie said quietly, without malice. She was just stating a fact. She turned and took her coat down; it was January after all, put it on and picked up her backpack, slinging it over one shoulder before she picked up her other small bag. She looked out and announced, “My taxi is here.”

“Right,” Nicole said, flatly, as Sophie opened the door and headed out. “I’ll have more fun and games for you when you come back in the spring.” Nicole called after the departing figure.

Sophie turned and looked back, “I won’t be coming back, Nicole. I’ve told my mom that. Sorry.” She turned and headed down the walk, covered today with a light dusting of snow. She got into the cab and as it pulled away, she turned back…and waved.

Nicole stood on the step, anger rising in her like a kettle on boil. She wanted to hit something, but the thing she wanted most to hit right now was driving down her street and away from her.

And there was nothing she could do about it.


Olivia Sheffield was awakened from a doze by the hotel phone to her right.

“Yes?” she inquired brusquely, “Thank you. I’ll be down in a moment.” She glanced at her clock; eleven thirty, she needed to make a pot of tea. The call announced that a package was waiting for her at the lobby desk; clearly from Richard. It meant several hours of ‘interrogation’ to be reviewed.

It would need to be a strong pot of tea.


The intercom buzzed and Dani looked at her watch; five PM and then at Luke, who shrugged his shoulders; he wasn’t expecting anyone.

“Yes?” Dani asked the ‘buzzee’.

“Hi D, it’s Shannon. Could I pop up?” Dani exchanged another look with Luke who again did the shoulder shrug. He didn’t know what was up.

Dani pressed the door release. They would soon find out what was up.


Nicole lay on her bed, a cool towel draped over her forehead; she felt like shit. After her unpleasant leaving of Sophie, she had impulsively called her old friend Christina, she of the sex shops and slaves. They had already chatted a couple of times since Nicole’s initial contact, looking at different options for Geneva. Today, they had come to an agreement; Geneva was to be sold.

Suck on that, Sophie, Nicole had ruminated angrily. The first step was to have Geneva sign a ‘Slave Contract’ with Nicole; Nicole would then have the woman tattooed with the accepted international numbering system that many dominants and sex slave owners around the globe used. It amounted to a record system and a data base of ‘slaves’ that was available and shared among people so inclined and connected.

This contract of course had no legal standing, you cannot legally own another human, at least not in most countries, but it did have its uses. Slaves saw clearly that they were marked and classified and that there was an agreement among slave owners to monitor slave movement, including potential runaways.

Once Geneva was marked and entered into the data base,

Nicole could sell her; and Christina already had at least one serious buyer in mind.

Having this discussion did not make Nicole feel any better; however, so she had taken a couple of pain pills and was now resting.

Her cell phone disturbed her and for a moment she thought of ignoring it, but she never did that. “Hello,” she asked, her hand over her eyes.

“Hey there, my sweet.” Nicole sat up straight; it was Amara.

Nicole blurted out, “Where have you been? Oh my God, I have been waiting and waiting and just thought, ‘Fuck it,’ she’ll call when she’s ready. Or she’s dead.”

“I’m sorry, Nick, I have thought of you often. There has been much happening with me and I have been in some out-of-the-way places.” She paused. “I would really like to be holding you right now.”

“Oh Amara, don’t do this. I don’t think I can take it. Please…”

“It might not be impossible, you know. I could come and see you.”

“Oh, fuck. No, fucking fuck, when are you thinking of doing this? Next week? Next month?”

There was a pause. “Where are you?” Amara asked quietly.

“What do you mean? I’m sitting on my fucking useless bed, why?”

“So you are at home?”

“Yeah, it’s Saturday. I’m home where I usually am with my useless life.” Nicole stood and began to pace a little.

Amara chuckled. “Oh my, my, sounds like someone needs some lovin’…”

“Please Amara, I mean it. I can’t take this right now.”

“Well, why don’t you come out and see me?”

Nicole stood frozen. “What?”

“Go outside your house.”

Nicole stumbled like a blind person, her head swirling, angry and excited and confused. She opened her front door and stepped outside. Standing on the sidewalk holding her cell phone to her ear and with a wide grin on her face was the tall and lovely Amara Manos.

Nicole dropped to her knees and stared like she was seeing a vision, with Amara coming to her swiftly and lifting her up. Nicole hugged the woman ferociously and then just sobbed.

Amara whispered into Nicole’s hair. “I see again how happy I make you feel.” They both laughed, with Nicole laughing as tears ran down her face.


Sheffield thoughtfully crunched a biscuit and looked ruefully at her empty teacup. She had finished her second pot, and she was feeling tired and exhilarated at the same time. She played again the spot on the interrogation that had piqued her interest. Sheffield had needed to lower the volume on her player at this point, as the helpless victim on the recording was screaming uncontrollably; and it was now four in the morning.

Sheffield knew that at this point in his torture the man’s fingers were being broken, between the tip and the first knuckle, with the help of a pair of pliers. The broken digit was then held over an open flame.

After some minutes of this the man lapsed into a delusional state where he was speaking to his dead mother and rambling, but then Richard had brought him back for a moment of semi-lucidness. He had asked the man what seemed an innocuous question; had the man’s contacts mentioned anyone in Doukas’s organization?

The man had mumbled something, and then Richard had applied pressure to a broken finger, resulting in some words, perhaps a name, being cried out. This was the section that Sheffield was listening to so intently. She sat back again and popped the rest of the biscuit into her mouth, a smile on her broad face.


Dani snuggled under her covers, then turned to her left and gave Luke a kiss, “G’night, sweet Lu,” she said.

“’Night, D.” Luke replied, kissing Dani first on the head, then on the cheek and finally on the mouth.

Dani then rolled over and planted a kiss on Shannon’s mouth, then another, before murmuring, “G’night, Shann.” As she whispered this, her hand was snaking down to rest between Shannon’s warm thighs.

Shannon giggled, purring, “Goodnight, Dani, and thanks again for doing this. Both of you.” She called over Dani’s shoulder at Luke. “I’ll do my share around here, I promise. And then there are some little extras,” She grinned squeezing Dani’s hand, a finger of which was working its way past her labia.

When Shannon had arrived earlier, there had been hugs and then the surprising announcement that she and Geoff had decided to split. He would have their place for the next month and then he was heading to Wichita, when Shannon would move back home.

Dani and Luke had accepted the idea of Shannon bunking with them for a few weeks and tonight was the start; the agreement being that Shannon would have a sexual relationship with both her hosts. Tonight she was beside Dani, and the two women were enjoying the new arrangement.


Meanwhile, across town, Nicole lay pressed against Amara’s long, naked body; tired and content. It was amazing how easily the two had picked up where they left off, months ago, the result being two hours spent in wonderful love-making. Nicole had experienced two strong orgasms and Amara one, and now they lay in peaceful recline, snuggled against one another.

“You are a life-saver,” Nicole whispered into Amara’s

ear, feeling drowsy and happier than she had in a long while.

“I wish I could have come here sooner, Nick. But let’s not think of that. Let’s enjoy this moment.”

The two women wrapped their arms and legs around each other, as if trying to merge their bodies into a singularity.


Should she tell Doukas, was the thought rumbling through Olivia Sheffield’s mind as she sat, looking out her hotel window onto the sleeping city of Salzburg. Of all the things she did for the man, looking out for him was number one.

She headed to the bathroom and began to run the bath. She needed to just lay and soak, then she would go out and find some breakfast; then sleep for a while.

Then she would begin to work on the information from the recording. She knew what it meant, but she needed to support her findings with other…testimony.

The information was not surprising to her, upon reflection. She had long held her beliefs about this woman.

As the man being tortured let slip, every now and then, a brief word or phrase of value, what he had called out during that specific point was clear. Sheffield hadn’t needed to listen to it seven times, but she had.

When pressed about anyone he had heard of in Doukas’s employ, the man had uttered, “Manos.”

Yes, Sheffield mused; Amara Manos, and that explained the apparent chatter picked up between Belgrade and Tel Aviv; even though they had not been able to pin it down to one location in the city, it now made sense.

Amara Manos was a traitor; the traitor. Sheffield had never trusted her.


“When will I see you again?” Nicole whispered into

Amara’s ear. It was Monday; Amara’s flight left at seven and her taxi had just pulled up.

“I will try to make it not so long as this, my Nick.” Amara murmured, gently stroking Nicole’s hair. “But I never know where or when I will be going or for how long.”

With one last, long, lingering kiss, Amara grabbed her single bag and headed out. She did not look back, it was a superstition with her. Nicole watched as her lover climbed into the cab and it pulled away, heading down the darkened street. The stabbing pain returned to remind her of the price of love. It’s worth it, she told herself, even as she slumped to the floor.


Dani came into Nicole’s office around eleven, and stood just inside the door. “Is it safe to come in?” she asked with a smile on her face, “Will I be brutally grabbed and fondled?”

Nicole laughed. She certainly enjoyed grabbing and fondling her attractive assistant, but she had had two days of wonderful grinding, kissing, touching, slapping (her ass) licking (everywhere) and she was satisfied. “No, sweet D, you are safe.” She then told her about Amara’s surprise visit; then listened with keen interest to Dani’s story of her surprise visit, only commenting, “Wow,” when the woman paused.

“So I guess we are both well-fucked for the time being anyway, hey sister?”

Dani laughed loudly, “Um, that’s one way to put it, Miss N.” She paused, and then looked down and began. “Is it ok with you if you and me go back to how we were before, for now, anyway? I, um, I really still need you as a friend, Nicole; but the other, uh, stuff, well; I would like to kind of cool that, for now. Is that ok?” Dani looked hard at Nicole with pleading in her eyes. She really did not want to lose her as a friend or upset her as her ‘boss’.

Nicole stood and came over to the smaller woman,

clasping her close and saying quietly, “I get it. I want you as a friend too. I really do, so yeah, I think I’m good with letting the other stuff go. Although I will miss your muff-munching, kiddo. You’re the best.”

They both hugged and laughed.


Louis Doukas sat on his patio by the kidney shaped pool here at his villa on Gran Canaria. Daphne Powell, after returning from a half hour jog, had jumped into this pool ten minutes ago, as she had every day this month; January now drawing to a close. She had enjoyed it so much here she had just stayed, instructing her faithful maid to look after the house in Geneva. Doukas had been happy to pay the bill.

Powell climbed out of the pool naked and walked in a leisurely way toward Doukas, back now after looking after all his affairs. The board of directors at Dionysus was under control, the prospects for his company looking promising even in a world of turmoil; what would Britain do after leaving the European Union; how would other countries be affected? What would happen to Greece, a country seemingly hanging by a thread? None of this was a threat.

Dionysus, with its expansion now into entertainment and pharmaceuticals complimenting its multi-facetted transport business, was not concerned by these things and was in good shape.

Doukas’s many bank accounts were all fat and he was happy, even if at times the hairs on the back of his neck rose, as if danger was close by. He shook that off and looked ahead to days like this, his time with Daphne being something he had come to enjoy very much. He watched her lovely, supple body as she approached; her daily workouts did wonders; she was a beauty.

“It is good we are secluded here, my Daphne, or the neighbors would be all agog with your beauty.” He raised his glass of vodka in salute.

Daphne laughed and threw a towel around herself. She

loved this; the climate, the food, the spacious and luxurious villa, the attentive staff. And even though she knew her companion was a bad man, she greatly enjoyed being with him, and didn’t wonder about her feelings for him.

Life was life; there was sin and there was virtue and who sat in judgement above her?

She did not second guess; she simply enjoyed.

 (End of Chapter 16)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 15 Love Looks Not With The Eyes

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 15 Love Looks Not With The Eyes 

Gilad had still not been able to reach Amara, and he had received nothing further from his sources. No one had turned up for a buy; they were not even certain where the painting in question could be; they couldn’t storm the house; that would completely blow their cover.

All that could be done now, was to wait.

“Damn it,” Gilad cursed, “damn this bastard.”


“Ok then, I will go along with your pal, Ally. Here’s the remainder of the deposit.” Kane said, grimly.

“You are, sure, luv?” Alastair said, still having a hard time with the idea and the money involved. It made his head hurt to think on it, so he tried not to.

Kane nodded her head silently; then took a sip of her drink.


Shillings and Woodford sat, again in a corner booth, and drank their scotch and bourbon, respectively.

Shillings pondered that Woodford looked tired; no, it was more than that. “Are you alright, old man?” He asked, with some concern.

Woodford gazed across the table, sighing. “Actually, no.” He sipped some scotch.

Shillings observed him. “Well, come on, out with it; you can’t keep everything stuffed in, you know. You look like shit, spill whatever it is you’re holding.”

“I don’t think you want to share this, my friend.”

Shillings pondered for a moment. He had known Woodford for how long, fifteen years? He wasn’t jovial or what you would ever call ‘fun’, but he had a good head for business and had helped Shillings get going. “Lay it out, Nils. I’m sharing this, one way or another, as it is. I’d rather know what I’m dealing with.”

After drinking more scotch, Woodford finally disclosed his predicament; he was in debt up to his eyeballs; bad investments, his third divorce, a penchant for high living. To satisfy some aggressive lenders, he had dipped his hand into some Dionysus funds; the loss was not apparent right now, even with the new and diligent van der Strom at work; but it would become apparent by the next spring, if not sooner.

Woodford was counting on Doukas being driven out and himself being voted in; he had large blocks of shares already in place to support him. But, damn the devil, Doukas was still there. And when he found out about Woodford’s fraud, who knows? One way or another, he was dead.

“Shit,” was all Shillings could muster.

“I need to get Doukas out, bottom-line. My back is to the wall. You can see that, can’t you old man?”

Shillings admitted; yes, he could see that. Clearly.  


The Pier House in Geneva was situated right by the Lake named for the city. Or was it vice versa?

Doukas and Daphne Powell had dined on sea scallops and linguini; the scallops being prepared exquisitely, their delicate, meaty texture earning praise. A  beautiful German Riesling had complimented the meal; with the view of the lake, even in December, being another wonderful bonus; it had been a delight thus far.

They sat now, in pleasant conversation over coffee and pumpkin cheesecake.

“I’ve done some googling of Dionysus International,” Powell remarked, sipping the excellent dark coffee.

Doukas pushed his fork into the cheesecake and consumed the bite; it was extraordinary. “Have you?” He responded. “And yet you are still here, with me.” Doukas said, smiling.

Powell chuckled, “And why wouldn’t I be? It’s a very successful company, Louis.” She studied him. “I’m thinking it’s not part of your, um, other interests?”

Doukas dabbed some crumbs away with his napkin. “You are too perceptive, Daphne. Yes, I have my…other interests which I manage, personally.”

Daphne looked at the lake, dark now with night, still lights were reflected off its waters. “Where would I fit in?” she smiled.

Uncharacteristically, Doukas reached across and stroked the woman’s hand. “You would definitely fall under personal business, my dear.”

Daphne smiled. “This has been a wonderful evening, Louis.”  

“I agree.” He caught the server’s eye. “More coffee.”

They both smiled.


Sophie was stretched out on the carpet, watching television, when Nicole came in. Hailey was at a friend’s and Geneva was tied naked to the bed in Nicole’s room. Nicole stood and took in the sight; Sophie’s long body, clad in short shorts and a T-shirt just lying there.

“Whatcha’ watching, kiddo?” Nicole asked, handing the girl a glass of wine.

“What’s this for, um, Nicole. I can just call you Nicole?”

“Yes, that’s great, for now, and the wine is ‘cuz you’re an adult and we’re going to have a little drink together.”

Sophie sat up, cross-legged on the carpet. “Where’s my mom?” she asked.

Nicole regarded the girl. “Oh, she’s just…tied up doing

something for me. It’s just the two of us. It gives me a chance to get to know you a little.”

Sophie laughed. “Sure, but I’da thought Mom would’ve filled you in.” Sophie sipped her wine, “Hey, this is good.” She smiled again.

“All right, glad you like it. And yeah, your mom’s told me stuff. But that’s mom-talk, right. There’s always a whole lot moms don’t know about, hey?”

Sophie laughed some more. “Well, actually, my life is pretty boring.”

“Hmmmm,” Nicole hummed, ”maybe, maybe not.” She smiled in her attractive way, and Sophie laughed a little again, brushing her hair behind her ear, like her mom, in a nervous gesture.


Their dinner together had been, mellow, Daphne would call it, and she felt mellow; contented. Yet she looked now across the table and asked, “Have you ever killed anyone, Louis?”

He looked up, calm as usual. If this question surprised him, it did not show. However, before he could answer, the server arrived with his snifter of Drambuie.

The server turned to Daphne who asked, “Einige mehr wein bitte?”

As he went off to get the wine, Doukas smiled at her. “You speak German?” he said, with inflection, showing that he might not be surprised at her asking if he was a killer, but he was a little surprised at that.

Daphne smiled, “You think because I was once a whore I have no education?” She spoke evenly, calmly.

“No, no, no, not at all. I was just surprised you didn’t speak something more…genteel, like French or Italian. There is more French spoken in this region, after all.”

“I do speak those; well French fairly well and a little Italian. But I heard the server talking earlier.” She

smiled, then added, “but you haven’t answered my question.”

“No, I haven’t. I am wondering why you ask?”

The server returned with the wine. Soft music drifted from somewhere. The night closed in around their small space. Daphne was feeling very mellow generally these days. Things had worked out so well financially for her that she spent her time now doing whatever she liked; she was as happy as she had ever been.

And very…mellow.

“I feel you are, a ruthless man, Louis, but that hasn’t deterred me. I’m just curious as to how ruthless.”

“So, you are ok with ruthless?” Doukas sipped his Drambuie.

“I much prefer a ruthless man over a wishy-washy one,” she said, simply.

Doukas chuckled and said, “I think I know why, but you tell me, please.”

She sat, Sphinx-like, her blonde/brown head now reflecting the lights. “With a ruthless man, I always now what he will do; with a wishy-washy one, I never do. There.”

Doukas regarded her; considered her. “Would it matter, how many I’ve, dispatched, or just if I have?”

“It’s not more than a hundred is it?” She asked, eyebrows raised. “That would concern me.”

Doukas looked across, looking handsome tonight with his mane of silver hair setting off his dark complexion. When he was with this woman, this particular women, his face, which could appear hard as oak, softened. “Well in that case,“ he smiled, showing his wonderful white teeth, “the answers are: ‘Oui et non’.” He laughed.

Daphne sipped her wine; she smiled. Why she found this man so interesting was not a mystery to her. Why she found him so exciting, was.

A little; amazingly, it did not alter her, mellowness.


“But it is boring,” Sophie insisted, “And I’m not complaining.” They sat in silence for a moment, before Sophie opened up with a long story about the single tragedy that had occurred in her life at age fifteen and had marked her since.

It had started with four teen girls, free from adults and having some fun. But two of the group were not satisfied with stealing a little booze from their folks; they had raided medicine cupboards and come up with some pills.

Sophie and Trina had both resisted, arguing that taking drugs you didn’t know anything about was stupid, but Taylor and ‘TJ’ had both decided to experiment. Whatever combination Taylor had ingested had, within fifteen minutes, sent her into convulsions. She had died on the way to the hospital.

“Nothing was ever the same,” Sophie said quietly. “I could not get Taylor’s face out of my mind. I had no interest in partying. I sure as Hell don’t do any drugs; nothing. People know that and leave me alone. When I hooked up with Ethan…”

“Not Eden,” Nicole interjected, remembering Geneva’s comments.

Sophie laughed, “My mom had that wrong from the start and it never changed. It was almost like she was denying his existence.”

“She knew you were having sex?” Nicole asked, cautiously.

Sophie nodded. “It was no big deal for me; losing my virginity, having sex.”

“So, what happened?” Nicole wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but she did want to get past this, to where Sophie was at sexually now. Just sitting with this girl was making her salivate.

“My mom kind of just went into a shell, too; she didn’t bug me about anything. Ethan and I always used condoms so I didn’t need mom’s help with the pill or anything. Things were just, you know, like regular shit; school, me and Ethan, sex; school, like that.” Sophie paused, as if remembering was difficult.

Nicole took this opportunity to reach out and gently stroke the girl’s arm. She got a smile; she was hoping for more. Sophie did start up again, “Then one day we were out, we ended up at some park somewhere; it was Ethan, my friend Meg and me; we had a few beers that Ethan had scored somewhere. It was nice.

It was early in the evening and Ethan had joined a couple of guys who he knew from somewhere and they were throwing a football around; me and Meg wandered off and started playing some game that ended up with a tickling session. And, um…” She paused and looked at Nicole.

“Hey, Sofe, I want to know. No judgements; I’ve done some things that would curl your hair, as they say,” Sophie chuckled, “so don’t feel shy about whatever happened.” 

“Well, it wasn’t really, um, anything. Meg and I were kissing. It, um, it was nice, but it wasn’t anything hot or, you know…anything. But it was nice. And when we got up, Ethan was standing there with this look on his face. He turned and ran away. Fucking, I’m sorry, just ran. He wouldn’t return my calls or anything. Talk about an over-reaction. Meg and I had plans to talk about, you know, that; but we never did. School ended and we both went off to college…” Sophie sat, thinking.


“Hello,” Marie Prescott spoke in her efficient way into her cell.

“Of course, and this is Olivia Sheffield. Just checking in.”

“Hello, Ms. Sheffield,” Prescott said, standing and moving down the hall to Tatjana’s room. The girl, young woman really but her behavior made one think of her as a girl, was sitting on the floor of her bedroom playing with one of her devices. After checking in, Prescott went back to her home office. The door was partly opened as she chatted with Sheffield, and Prescott didn’t notice that Tatjana had followed her back down the hall.

The girl was crouching now in the hall, listening, apparently; the ever-present smile on her face.


Nicole lifted Sophie’s face with a finger under her chin. The girl simply sat and looked back. Nicole could not read the eyes. She leaned in and kissed the ‘Angelina Jolie’ lips, as she thought of them; plump, full lips; with no lipstick.

They were wonderfully soft and Nicole lingered, gently sucking on them, as she ran a finger up the girl’s long, soft arm. Sophie did not pull away, but she did not really kiss back. It was as if she was prepared to have this happen; she would just not really participate.

Nicole decided on a new tact. “So, did your mom talk to you about what I, um, wanted to do…with you?” Nicole half expected Sophie to look up with alarm and bolt for the door.

Instead the girl nodded her dark head and said, “Mom said you think I am very pretty and want to take some shots of me.” she stated simply.

Nicole held up her Samsung. “I have a great phone for photos, really, so you are good with this?”

Sophie gently nodded her head, but she remained looking down, like she wasn’t involved.

“Ok,” Nicole exclaimed, standing. “Let’s start simple. Just look up at me and smile, that’s it. Ok, stand, hands on hips; that’s good; you have a model’s body, kid, know that? Ok, slip off that T.” She said evenly.

Sophie now paused, “I, um, I’m not wearing a bra,” She said quietly, looking down.

Nicole considered this first challenge. She didn’t want

to spook this girl by pushing too hard or too fast, she had past New Years for Christ’s sake, so she had time. “Ok then, how about turn around and let’s start with your back, c’mon, off with the shirt kid, ain’t got all day.”

Sophie pulled the T-shirt over her head and stood, turned away from Nicole but with her hands over her breasts. Nicole marvelled at Sophie’s back; long and muscular. Fuck, she thought. “Ok, if you’re feelin’ a little, um, shy, just cover your nipples with your fingers and turn around, that’s it.”

Sophie turned, slowly and self-consciously as Nicole pressed away. Sophie’s long fingers covered her nipples and areolas, but enough of the plump, firm breasts were visible that Nicole began to feel arousal. She wanted to suck on those and slap them. They were full but still pert; beautiful.

Nicole went over to a drawer and took out some things, then walked over to Sophie and said, “This may help.” She turned the girl around and clipped her wrists together behind her back. Then when she turned her back, Nicole placed two clamps on Sophie’s long, dark, erect nipples. This produced the first reaction, a definite “Oooohh,” emanated from Sophie’s lovely lips.

“On your knees, bitch, that’s it, look up, open your fucking mouth. Oh yeah, that’s great.”

“N-Nicole, are you sure….”

“Sssshhh, Sophie, this is outstanding, bend forward, let those beautiful tits hang.” The commands and vulgar expressions did not seem to have any effect on Sophie; nothing so far except the clamps. Nicole knelt in front of the girl, pulling and twisting the clamps before she unclipped them, allowing the blood to flow back into the thick, dark nipples.

“Aaaahhh.” Sophie exclaimed, and Nicole fastened her mouth onto one brown bud, sucking it as it hardened. Nicole slapped the breasts and saw, for the first time, arousal in the eyes.  “UUUUmmmm”, Sophie moaned and Nicole kissed her throat stopping at the lips which she sucked and pulled at, forcing her tongue into Sophie’s mouth.

Sophie may have been aroused, but it wasn’t by the kissing. Becoming frustrated, Nicole turned Sophie around and leaned her against a cushion. She pulled down the shorts, to a muted protest, revealing a black thong nestled between two athletic, round ass cheeks. The thong was not tiny, but it was a thong just the same. “Please Nicole, don…UH!” Nicole had slapped Sophie’s ass, and the girl did not finish her thought.

Then Nicole pushed Sophie farther onto the couch so her ass was more prominently displayed, and slapped her several more times. She now noticed Sophie arching her back and presenting that wonderful ass. Nicole sat back and took several photos and considered. This girl wasn’t into ‘romance’ things like kissing and touching; but she did seem to like one thing; pain.


Daphne woke and looked at her clock; five-fifteen. She was alone in her bed. Getting up she made her way into the main living area of her lovely, spacious home; there was a balcony off this room, and Doukas was sitting out there now, in the December darkness.

Daphne stood at the doorway and regarded the man; Doukas was wrapped in a blanket and sat looking toward the dim shadows that were the Alps, beginning to show in the very early stages of the morning that was coming.

“You can see them in the daylight.” She said quietly, folding her arms against the chill.

“I know. I have seen these mountains from many sides. They give me a sense of peace, for some reason.” Doukas murmured, staying huddled.

“You are up very early.” She noted.

“I sleep possibly four hours a night; that is all. And I enjoy these quiet moments.”

“If I made coffee would you have some?”

“Absolutely.” He paused in consideration. “Your formidable maid is not around?”

Daphne laughed. “No, she has returned to England to have Christmas with her family.” Daphne left Doukas then to sit silently. In a few minutes she returned wearing a sweater over her night clothes and handed him a coffee that he cradled.

“Ummm, this smells wonderful,” he said, before sipping some of the hot liquid.

“What will you do for Christmas?” she asked, back again in the doorway.

“Christmas,” he repeated, as if the thought was new. “I, um, don’t usually do much for that, holiday.”

Daphne thought about pressing for why, but she had an idea anyway. She might press later. “I usually don’t do much either. Anthony liked to have the house decorated, with a large tree. It was never that important to me.”

“Maybe we should go somewhere very un-wintery, if that’s a word.”

Daphne looked at the lion-like head, as it turned slightly in her direction. “You and me?”

Doukas turned now to look at her. “Yes. Is that so strange?”

Daphne smiled. “You tell me, Louis.”


With Christmas day falling on a Monday this year, the van der Strom offices were closing as of today, Thursday. Nicole had a few things to tidy up, but her case load was quiet currently, with nothing really coming up until the first week of January.

The deal with Doukas had quieted as well; she had only submitted one name this month, and there had been no pressure, so far. Nicole was proud of the fact that she had used the money from Susan to clear off much of her debt and that she had been diligent about her budget and cash flow. Not having any monthly rent, living free at Susan’s, was very, very helpful, obviously. But she had helped herself too.

So it disturbed her greatly that she was still bound to Doukas, even though he, they, were not demanding much from her right now; they were always there, like a shadow, lying in wait. There had to be some way to shake them, she thought. She could not live under their thumb for ever.

For today, she would push all that from her mind. She would take off and enjoy the break; Hailey would be leaving tomorrow to spend the holiday with her mom and Beth.

As of right now, Nicole was leaving her office and heading down to chat with Dani. The two had not had many opportunities this week to connect and had in fact done nothing sexual for several days. Dani’s dark head came up and she smiled as she saw Nicole approaching her station.


“Amara!” Gilad exclaimed. “I thought you were kidnapped.”

Amara chuckled. “Who would want to kidnap me, Gilad? The ransom would be small for sure.”

“You don’t think the elusive Doukas would pay handsomely for your safe return?” He chuckled.

“It’s more likely that he’s the one to have had me kidnapped,” Amara chuckled in return.

“So Doukas seems to have gone underground; what are you hearing?”

“Not much. Like I said, I’m still doing, assignments, for him. But he has never really included me in any plans. Even the ever-faithful Sheffield does not always know what the man is up to. Last I heard he was in Geneva.”

“Geneva, hmmm, that’s still close to Austria.”

“Yes it is, Gilad.”

“You’re mocking me,” Gilad chuckled.

“Hey, Happy Hanukkah, or whatever. Hope you have a pleasant celebration.”

“Well, thank you for that, and Happy Christmas to you.”

“And to all a Good Night.” Amara recited.


“Nothing.” She chuckled.


Sophie was hanging from one of the four large hooks Nicole had had installed into the ceiling beams in Susan’s basement. She was of course naked. Nicole was giving her the ‘full treatment’ today, even if this wasn’t Nicole’s particular ‘thing’; it was clearly the thing, and so far the only thing, that produced a response from the lovely young woman.

Sophie had a black hood over her head with only an opening for her nose and mouth. Around her generous breasts, Nicole had tightly wound cord so that those breasts now bulged obscenely; they had turned a dark red on their way to purple. Nicole had just recently placed two strong nipple clamps, squashing the two dark, thick nipples and earning prolonged ‘aaaahhhhss’ from Sophie’s lovely mouth.

Now Nicole began to whip Sophie’s round, firm ass; she had already used a wooden paddle to ‘warm her up’; the current whip, a thick, leather instrument, was going to leave marks and cause pain. Nicole struck five blows in succession, leaving three seconds between each stroke. She ran a gloved hand over the reddened welts, now rising, before probing a gloved finger into Sophie’s tight anus, causing the girl to squirm and moan.

“How does my little bitch like that, hmmmm?” Nicole crooned into one ear. Sophie, however, still did not play the game by Nicole’s rules.

She responded, “I like it pretty good, UUH!” Nicole had

just lashed her again, and was now forcing the end of the whip into Sophie’s resistant anus. She would get this girl to comply, one way or another.

Going to a cupboard and retrieving an item, Nicole returned and placed it over Sophie’s pubic area. It was a pussy pump, and Nicole now began pumping it, the vacuum, even with Sophie’s thick pubic hair, causing the girl’s pussy lips to engorge with flood and become fat and bloated.

Nicole now undid the ropes on Sophie’s breasts and removed the clamps; the new blood flow causing Sophie to cry out as her breasts came back to life.

Nicole then lowered Sophie down to her knees and brought the girl’s face into her crotch, rubbing herself vigorously against it; but even with all that had been done to her, Sophie only half-heartedly licked the shaved pussy; Nicole felt her arousal ebbing. Damn!

She hoisted the girl back up so she was forced to stand on her toes, then went out, retuning in a minute with a naked Geneva. The woman had seen her daughter naked a few times already, and had watched Nicole administer a spanking, but it was still alarming to her to see Sophie tied up and looking so desirable.

Nicole had Geneva kneel so she was looking up at her daughter’s dark and quite hairy crotch; pubic hair spreading up toward the belly button and down, along the buttocks and thickly around the anus.

Nicole left. When she returned she brought a small tub, some soap and a razor. “Ok, mommy-slave; I want Sophie shaved as clean as you or I, understood.”

“Y-yes, Miss N. Um, I will not have to, um, do anything else, correct?”

Nicole stroked the woman’s blonde head. “No, you will do nothing else to Sophie. I promised you and I will keep my promise. You are shaving her for my pleasure.”

“Yes Miss N. Understood.”

(End of Chapter 15)  

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 14 And Sweet Revenge Grows Harsh

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 14 And Sweet Revenge Grows Harsh 

“‘Lo luv,” Alastair wheezed into the phone.

“Hello, Uncle Ally. So what’s the news?” Rosalind replied.

“Cor, blimey dear, who is this wanker you want done with? My lad’s got the wind up; says you need to sweeten the deal with another five thou.”

Rosalind wasn’t happy about being haggled, but in the end it wasn’t a big deal. What she was asking for wasn’t some minor thing; she wasn’t sure Ally’s chum could really pull this off. Doukas was a clever and careful man. “Ok, look. Tell your pal that I can offer what he is asking, but do you think he is any good?”

Alastair’s wheezing indicated he was listening, “Look, luv, no way I’d steer you wrong. This bloke knows his onions, he does, and he’s a right bugger. I w’nt cross him, no sir.”

“Has he, um, actually, er, killed anyone?”

Alastair was silent save for the occasional wheeze, like he was rationing them. “I know, uh, one for sure an’ a second, pretty sure. An’ there are stories from people what knows….”

He left that comment hanging darkly in the air.


A while after Carstairs had left, another gentle rap came to Doukas’s door and he welcomed in his new caller, who happened to be Elena Kasmir, “I’m sorry to bother you sir, but Ms. Sheffield suggested you might like a, um, snack.” Kasmir carried a tray holding a plate with scones, cream and jam on it, as well as a cup of coffee.

“Hmmmm, my dear, thank you. Please.” Doukas cleared a small space on his desk and Kasmir put down the tray, then looked at Doukas. “Will there be anything else, sir. Ms. Sheffield has also asked me to stay and be available, for, um, you.” 

Doukas looked at the slim, young girl; not his usual type. “You are, Indian?” Doukas asked, mildly.

“My father was Pakistani and my mother is English, sir. I was born in Manchester, and I have lived here, at least in England, most of my life.” She smiled.

“And you have been with Dionysus…?”

“Three years, sir, this coming spring. I am one of three office assistants who work with the board, but I, um, was happy to be available today.” She looked down; Doukas was struck again by her youth.

“I’m twenty-eight,” Kasmir replied to Doukas’s query.

Doukas sampled some of the scone; it was, as expected, excellent, as was the coffee. “And why were you delighted to assist on this particular day, Elena?”

The girl’s pretty, light brown face blushed. “Because the entire board was here. And, you, were here, sir.”

Doukas regarded the girl for a moment. “That mattered to you?” He raised his eyebrows; this was interesting.

Kasmir nodded her head, “I wanted to meet you, sir.”

Doukas now stared at this girl; she was not playing him, she was genuine. “I can’t imagine why, Ms. Kasmir.” Doukas finished his scone and drank more coffee, as Kasmir stood, considering her response.

“You, um, are a legend, sir.” Kasmir said in a quiet voice.

Doukas had to smile. He had been called many things in his life; never a legend. He looked at this pretty, young woman, who could be his daughter, and asked,

“Elena, how…motivated are you to advance in my company?”

She looked up; she was no longer shy; she smiled at him, “I am highly motivated, sir.”

Doukas watched with some amazement as Kasmir slipped

off her black dress without him saying anything.


On Monday, Philadelphia started out below zero and it was overcast, but Nicole entered her building with a smile on her face. She stopped by Dani’s desk on her way in; she had a busy day ahead and this might be her only chance for a brief chat.

“Hey there,” Dani smiled up at Nicole from her chair.”

“Happy Monday, Ms. Flood. How was your weekend?” Nicole winked.

Dani blushed under her brown skin; it was amazing that Nicole could affect her like this. “It was great, Ms. Martin. Both Friday night and Saturday night I was…busy.” Both women smiled.

Saturday Luke was back from another business trip; he was being called out at least once a week now, and they had enjoyed a lovely time together. The sex was wonderful, which was a relief. Dani had feared what might happen, what she might or might not feel, when they got together again. The two had not made love since she and Nicole had begun their, ‘thing’.

But her worries were unfounded. As Nicole had forecast, Dani’s love for Luke remained; her feelings for Nicole were something separate, somehow. “You have the best of both worlds,” Nicole had told her. “You’re bi; you should be doing cartwheels.”


“Hey Christina.” Nicole exclaimed.

“Oh my God, is that you Nicole?” Christina responded.

“Absolutely; I know it’s been years. It’s crazy; just seems like a few months ago I was a college student learning about, things, and there you were to guide me. Those were great times and now it’s been almost five years. Yikes.”

“I agree; you were a great student. Obviously in law but also in sex. I’d give you an A.” Christina

chuckled, “So what’s up, sister.”

Nicole went on to explain about the relationship with Geneva that had come out of nowhere. At one time Christina had supplied ‘slaves’ to well-to-do women with an interest in girl-love, and a little domination, but in the privacy of their homes. For several hundred dollars, Christina would provide them a girl to help with their…fantasies.

“Yeah, it was good while it lasted, but I ran out of girls.” She chuckled again. “I had four altogether and they all ended up in time becoming partners with their ‘mistresses’. Then I got into the adult sex store thing and it has been very successful. My partner and I have three stores in Philly and one in Pittsburgh. I’ve been busy.”

They then discussed the potential for ‘renting’ Geneva out and Christina said she would look into it and get back to Nicole. “Hey, Nick, remember, you are always welcome to come to the main store, where I am, and we can try out some of my specialty dildos.”

“You always did like fucking me.” Nicole laughed.

“You got that right, kid. I still have dreams about that ass of yours.”

“Well, maybe I’ll take you up; you never know.”

“Talk soon.”



“It’s Amara,”

“Hey, it’s me,” Gilad’s easily recognizable voice came clearly. “Yeah, has Doukas been in touch recently?”

“Yes, I’m doing a job for him, accompanying a freighter to the east African coast day after tomorrow. Why?”

“Hmmmm. Do you think he is on to you?”

Amara paused; that was her greatest fear; but there had been nothing to indicate that. “I don’t believe so; why are you asking?”

Gilad sighed. “It’s just we’ve had a tip of a buyer pursuing a big one. A Zaldis, long thought to be destroyed. Doukas seems most likely to be involved. It’s just that the lead points to Austria, this week. That doesn’t sound like your job.”

“No,” Amara agreed, “it doesn’t.”


Dani came to Nicole’s office and stood at the open door. “Hey kid,” Nicole said, smiling from behind her desk. “Everyone finally cleared out?”

Dani nodded, then came in. Nicole stood and the two embraced, finding each other‘s mouths. Nicole turned Dani around, kissing the back of her neck as she undid the buttons on her blouse. Dani arched her back as Nicole slid her slacks down before pushing her forward, so she was resting with her breasts on Nicole’s desk, her brown ass up, inviting contact.

Nicole pulled Dani’s hands behind her back and slapped that inviting ass, then licked two fingers on her right hand before thrusting them into Dani’s dark opening as it waited, surrounded by a forest of dark, curly hair.

When Nicole had Dani thrusting hard against her hand, she whispered into one ear. “Now it’s my turn.”

Between thrusts, Dani grunted, “Your, turn, for, what?”

“To see what you taste like?” Nicole dropped to her knees and withdrew her fingers, then pushed her face into Dani’s hot, wet pussy. As Dani ooohed her response and pressed herself back against the invading tongue, Nicole moved back and murmured. “Hmmm. It does kinda taste like chicken.” She slapped the brown cheeks hard, “fried chicken,” she laughed.

She then brought Dani down to the floor with her, both of them now laughing.


Rosalind slid an envelope across the table to Alastair. “Here’s five thousand, Ally. Tell your guy it’s the deposit; he doesn’t get the whole half until closer to a target day. I will let him know when Doukas is going to be in town.”

Alastair took the fat packet with a trembling hand and stuffed it inside his coat.

“Blimey,” was all he said.


Doukas walked around the offices of Dionysus, here on the forty-fourth floor of the Herron Tower. This had become the heart of the ‘empire’, even though the nominal ‘head office’ remained in Athens. While the Paris offices, where Chairman Woodford was, were important, almost all of the legal and financial machinery of the organization was now here; and it was a busy place.

As he stood, eyes would glance quickly in his direction before returning to their tasks; whispers followed his footsteps. Doukas was enjoying the stir he caused as he wandered about, waiting for the ever-loyal Sheffield to arrive.

Doukas paused now by Bradley Bard’s office door; Bard and Carstairs both had offices here; Bard himself had not yet arrived, generally showing up in the afternoon.

A tug on his elbow caused Doukas to turn and look down into the pretty, smiling face of Elena Kasmir. “Sir,” she said respectfully, “Ms. Sheffield is in your office.”

“Thank you, Elena. You are looking lovely today,” Doukas remarked, Kasmir appearing today with a well-cut navy outfit of slacks, blouse and jacket, black hair glossy and tied back.

The girl blushed and smiled. “Thank you, sir. I was hoping you would be back today.”

Doukas nodded, remembering how lovingly she had sucked him. She had been as ‘talented’ as Daphne, yet he knew Daphne was far more experienced. Feeling mellow, he had asked Elena why she was so good at, well, blow jobs. She hadn’t even blushed then, simply stating she watched a lot of porn, and oral sex was her favorite. Damn, Doukas had thought, brave new world indeed.

“I am in London until Wednesday, my dear. In fact,” Doukas paused looking down at her as she looked up at him with expectation in her dark, brown eyes, “I was wondering if you would care to dine with me this evening?”

Kasmir’s lovely eyes grew large and she ‘wobbled’ slightly on her heels, “Oh my God, sir; really? You wish to have me join you at dinner? Oh my God, yes, of course. What should I wear. What…”

Chuckling, Doukas calmed the girl with a hand on her arm. “You look perfect like that, Elena. We will leave from here; there is a fine restaurant not far away. So calm yourself, please, and I will see you later.”

With that, Doukas headed for his office and the information he hoped the efficient Sheffield would provide.                                             ****

Nicole was looking at Geneva’s laptop again, as the woman herself was at that moment kneeling with her face between Nicole’s thighs. “You know I’m thinking of renting you out,” Nicole said quietly as she stroked the blonde head. Geneva paused in her sucking to reply simply that she understood and appreciated whatever Miss N would do. 

At that moment, Nicole was looking, again, at photos of Sophie, who would be coming to join them in a few days, as December twelfth was the last day of classes. “Tell me a little about your daughter, Gen.” Nicole asked. Geneva then spent at least five minutes commenting on the daughter she adored.

“So,” Nicole began, “is she involved in any kind of relationship?”

Geneva paused to consider. “She has dated. There was a boy in grade twelve that seemed a little serious, at the time. Eden, I think his name was. Since then there hasn’t been anything to shout about, as far as I know.”

“You and her are not big on sharing this sort of…info, are you?”

Geneva shook her head. “No, Miss N, until, um, you, I have never been one to talk about feelings or emotions or, well, anything. No um, sex-talk, for sure.”

Nicole continued to stroke the blonde head; that was not surprising, not surprising at all.


“So, Austria,” Doukas stroked his chin, “and you have no name, just an address?”

Sheffield nodded her dark head, “That is correct sir; we are still, emm, researching, but it is a residence in Salzburg, not a business or anything.”

“Hmmm. Good, everything still lines up. We will go there Thursday. Notify Kane to be available Friday, late.”

“Yes, sir.”


The view from the thirty-ninth floor at Searcy’s was amazing, both early evening and later, when the city lights came on.

The crab starter had been excellent, and while the vegetarian Elena enjoyed her ‘rabbit food’, as Doukas thought it, he had the rack of lamb and was very satisfied. The Merlot was expensive and full bodied and both enjoyed two glasses, making for mellow conversation.

Elena was someone who understood the value of listening and Doukas considered afterwards, that in the last year he had spent time with two women, Daphne Powell and now Elena, who had successfully encouraged him to open up and share. And he had. Doukas also sensed Elena’s true interest in him; it was genuine.

For Elena, Doukas was someone she found truly fascinating and as they were leaving, took his arm and leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, thank you Mr. Doukas. That was so wonderful. I will remember this night.”

As they walked to his waiting Rolls, Doukas murmured, I thought, perhaps coffee, back at my suite in the hotel.”

Kasmir replied quietly, “I’m not big on coffee, sir, but I do wish to come back with you. I was, hoping to, em, thank you for your generosity.” She smiled up at him.

Such a lovely girl, Doukas pondered, I really don’t deserve it.

Well, maybe I do.


Gilad was unable to reach Amara; likely because she was in the middle of nowhere. Oh well, he thought, she’s out of it anyway. He wouldn’t put it past Doukas to send Amara off to Africa while he dallied in central Europe with his acquisitions. If I was her, Gilad pondered, I’d watch my back.


“Ally?” Kane asked with some urgency.

“Aye, gul,” came the wheezy reply.

“Tell your friend to be ready for this Friday. I’ll get him some more money Friday noon if all goes well.”

Alastair was silent. “This is really what you want, luv?”

“It is, Ally. I’m determined.”

And if Alastair had learned one thing in his many years, it was to stay clear of a determined woman.


Nicole was leaning on Dani’s desk. “So, tell me again your plans for tomorrow.”

Dani looked around. It was a little after noon and most of the office was out to lunch, so she could speak fairly freely. “Welllll, Luke and I had a lonnnnnggg,


“A lonnnnnngggg talk, hmmmmm?”

“Yes, don’t interrupt if you want the dope.” They both laughed and Dani continued, “We talked about, um, sex and let’s see, oh yeah, sex, and then a little more about…sex.”

“Okay, I get the picture, and?”

Dani looked at Nicole with a definite smug appearance, “And, Miss Bossy, we agreed to try and spice things up, you know.”

“I’m not doing a threesome.” Nicole deadpanned.

“Thanks, honey muffin, but your name didn’t come up, for obvious reasons.” Dani paused, still with that smirk, “But we did talk about our friends, Shannon and Geoff, who are like the reverse of us; he’s dark and she’s white.”

“I get it!” Nicole exclaimed, “Black on white and white on black.” She laughed.

“Well, we’ll see, but they have hinted about some swappin’, certainly Shannon has come on to me, so Luke is ok with seein’ where things go. They’re bringing some wine over to our place tomorrow and, who knows?”

“Well I want pictures, sister.” Nicole declared.

“You’re going to have to be happy with my verbal ‘descript’, lady.” Dani declared.

“Would that be a blow by blow account, kid?” Nicole asked, a broad grin on her face. Dani punched her in the arm.


Doukas was travelling by ferry across the channel to France when one of his phones vibrated. It was his left hand lower jacket pocket so that meant phone number three. “Yes,” he answered, listening for a moment. “I see, thank you for the alert.” He looked at Sheffield, seated across from him, who had been watching.

“That was our man in Austria.”

“Bergsom.” Sheffield noted.

“Says there is a problem, believes the house is under surveillance.” Sheffield’s dark eyebrows rose toward her dark bangs.

“What will you do?”

Doukas stroked his chin. “I believe I will take a visit to Switzerland. It’s been awhile.”

Sheffield nodded her dark head.


Kane received the information and swore under her breath; this was driving her bonkers. “I see, Ms. Sheffield, thank you. I will await further instructions.” It seemed the Friday rendezvous was off. Damn!


Gilad’s ‘secret’ phone buzzed to life, meaning it could only be the team in Austria reaching him. ”Go ahead.”

“It’s almost six, sir, and Schwitzer just left; looks like he’s going out to dinner. Do you still want us to stay?”

“What did ‘Z’ say to you?”

“That if there were problems, contact you, sir.”

Right, thought Gilad, I don’t plan things but I’m the guy they call. “Ok, stay for another hour and then if nothing, shut it down.”

“Got that.”

Damn. Somehow Doukas had got wind of things; it was the only explanation.


Kane sat, deep in thought. Alastair had talked with ‘his bloke’ and the guy had said something that was encouraging; an accident might be the way to go, and he had arranged ‘accidents’ before. That actually was what he had done three times; he had only taken someone out ‘in person’, so to speak, once.

“Bloke says he prefers the h’accidents, luv.”

If Kane gave the guy half the fee now, he would have Doukas stalked and look for an opportunity, and Kane would be out of it. It wasn’t a bad idea, in theory. Kane just didn’t know how easy it was to ‘stalk’ a man like Doukas.

She’d need to think on this.


Monday after work Nicole and Dani had arranged to have dinner together so that Friday night could be discussed at length. Whenever the two of them saw each other throughout the day they broke out in grins ‘like a couple of girly-girls’, Nicole noted.

So now they sat, having ordered, waiting for their server to get far enough away, when Nicole grabbed Dani’s arm and exclaimed, “Ok, out with it. Damn, I should have insisted you call me yesterday, today was like torture, you with that grin on your face.”

Dani laughed and sipped some wine, “Well, like they say, if it’s worth waiting for…”

“Well, is it bitch?” Nicole dug her fingers into Dani’s ribs, “C’mon, out with it.”

Dani then related what she felt was a milestone night in her life. It had started with wine and watching an ‘adult’ movie as a foursome, before Shannon initiated some action by kissing Dani, seriously. The two women had ‘gotten into it’ and stripped each other, to hoots of encouragement from the men.

After kissing and fondling each other, Shannon crawled over to Luke and unzipped his pants, pulling out his impatient erection; Dani, with just a slight hesitation, did the same to Geoff; it was her first black cock in several years.

“So one thing led to another…” Dani said.

“Did he, um Geoff, fuck you?”

Dani grinned and nodded. “It was an orgy, Nick. A freakin’, fuckin’, for real orgy. I had both men, one after the other, Shannon had both men; I had one man while Shannon and I did each other, and finally, the guys talked us into anal, and we actually managed double penetration, both Shan and me. It was like three freakin’ hours, no shit; my pussy was tired, bitch.” She laughed. “Shannon and Geoff crashed on our couches, but when I woke up, Shannon was in bed with me and Luke. My God, my God.” Dani just sat, shaking her head, Then their orders arrived. “So whaddya’ think kid, is that hot enough for you?”

Nicole nodded her head, “I’m jealous as Hell, Dani. Damn. Except for the part about being fucked in the ass, that is.” She raised her glass for a toast.


When Nicole arrived home she was met by Geneva, wearing clothes which indicated something was, different. In a moment it was clear as Nicole was introduced to a tall, dark and attractive young woman. “This is my daughter Sophie,” Geneva announced, “Sophie, this is my friend, Nicole.”

Nicole looked up at the girl as they shook hands, thinking she was more attractive in person than in photos. They sat and talked for a little while with Hailey joining them as well, before Sophie said she had had a long day with travel and everything and was ready to hit the sack. Nicole thought, for tonight anyway, it was good Susan had a large house with five rooms that could function as bedrooms; one was currently being used as a den/office, but that still left one for everyone else.

For tonight, anyway.

When Sophie and Hailey had headed off, Nicole sat with Geneva pressed against her. Nicole decided to make her feelings known. “I want to see your daughter naked, Geneva,” she said.

Geneva sat for a moment before saying quietly, “I can

understand that; how can I help?”

“Not sure; I don’t want anything awkward; maybe a mother slash daughter lingerie thing.” They sat in silence again.

“I would like to see her with you, Miss N. It actually arouses me; is that, wrong? I guess it is. Is it crazy?”

“Your daughter is an attractive young woman, Gen; she’s not a nine-year-old. She needs to be fucking someone; you know I would be considerate of her.”

“I know. Why don’t you have some wine with her tomorrow and just get her talking about her experiences. I have no idea how much she has done. Like I said, there hasn’t been much that I have seen. Maybe she is very inexperienced? She hasn’t shared with me, which is understandable.”

“Well, leave this with me, sweets. I will let you know everything.” Nicole paused. “Do you want her to know about our…arrangement?”

Geneva sat, considering. “Y-yes, I do, actually. I just don’t know how to present it without, um, blowing her mind.”

“Well, let us take small steps. We won’t have her come down to find me fucking her mom on the kitchen table in the morning. We’ll break her in slowly, you have my word.”

Geneva chuckled softly. “Thank you, Miss N. I know how you’ve changed my world; I can’t even believe what I used to be. So, I trust you.”

“That’s good, sweet Gen. I do like you so.” They sat quietly for a few moments, before Nicole spoke again. “Ok, now I’d like you to have a little snack before we head to bed.”

Geneva smiled as she slid to her knees, “Of course, Mistress.”    

(End of Chapter 14)  

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 13 The Dark Paths Of Duplicity

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 13 The Dark Paths of Duplicity 

”Seventeen.” Slap! “Eighteen.” Olivia Sheffield was delivering blows with a wooden paddle on the brown but now also reddened, round and lovely ass of Rosalind Kane. Kane was making sounds but her gag of panties and construction tape muffled them. Tears, that had started around, ‘seven!’, had now pooled below her face, which was inches from the floor as she was bent over a wooden crate. Slap! “Nineteen.” Slap! “Twenty.”

Sheffield put the paddle on the nearby desk and lifted Kane by her hair, untying her wrists and hauling her to kneel before Doukas. They were back in London and back in Kane’s office; apparently Thomas Hardy was wrong, you can go home again.

After settling Kane, Sheffield took her paddle and with a nod to her boss, left. Doukas gently peeled off the tape and removed the sodden panties, then handed Kane a tissue. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose and looked up at the man, then looked away.   

Doukas began, in his mellow voice. Today, he was almost priest-like; quiet and serious. “We all make mistakes, Miss Kane. And we pay for them; do you agree?” Kane, her ass stinging, nodded her head. “And then we try to do better, yes?” Kane nodded again. “Good, we are in agreement.” Doukas then stood and unzipped his fly, then produced his hardened cock. Kane did not resist. She just shut off her mind and let Doukas use her mouth to masturbate with.

Today; however, was different. After a few moments, Doukas withdrew his penis and turned Kane around, still on her knees, and had her face away from him. He brought her hands around and tied them again behind her. “Please don’t spank me.” she blurted out, her ass still tender.

“I am not going to spank you, Miss Kane. That is my assistant’s, um, specialty.” He chuckled darkly. “No,

but I do have a question for you?”

“Y-yes?” Kane offered, tentatively.

“Do you remember our first time,” Kane could hear Doukas opening his briefcase.

“Yeah, um, yes.”

“I asked you about our relationship, you to me. What was the answer.”

Kane pondered and then it came to her. Of course, “You, um, said that you…own my, um, arse.” She spoke quietly, and then became alarmed, as she felt Doukas applying some gel to her asshole.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She could not hold the question in, but Doukas responded by slapping her ass, and she cried out.

“I do not intend to spank you Miss Kane, unless you annoy me, understand?”

“Ye-yes. Yes.”

“Good. Yes. I own your…arse, and I will make that point now.” Kane could feel the head of Doukas’s penis pressing on her asshole. No, no, no, she thought, but slowly, with the help of the gel, Doukas’s fat erection was soon in, to its five inch length, making Kane feel very uncomfortable. She had never had anal intercourse and this was not pleasant, at least not at the start.

In a few minutes, Doukas’s stomach and thighs were slapping rhythmically against Kane’s ass, and she was grunting. Once he was fucking her, it actually felt odd, but okay: but she felt degraded. Humiliated. It seemed to take him longer this way than the other, but in a few moments, he called out and slammed hard against Kane’s buttocks; holding her by the waist and keeping her against him. Then he slumped down onto her back for a moment.

After a brief rest, he extricated himself and she heard him, likely using her panties to clean himself. He then untied her wrists. She could hear his footsteps, leading away; then the door open; then close.

Then she was alone; she stayed, her face against the floor, her eyes closed. Son-of-a-bitch, she thought.

Fucking son-of-a-bitch.


Nicole was looking through Geneva’s laptop. Geneva was ‘on loan’ to a lesbian friend of Nicole’s who liked dominating MILF’s. Nicole still enjoyed Geneva, but it was like all the relationships she had been through, with the exception of Amara who lit a spark that had not previously been lit; Nicole eventually grew tired. But like Susan, Nicole still felt something for Geneva; she liked her and felt a responsibility for her; so she would find her other avenues of pleasure.

Today Geneva would be with Mrs. James for the day; she would have her ass paddled and she would end on her knees pleasuring the woman; and then she would come home; and maybe Nicole would make use of her, but only if she wanted to, not because she needed her.

What was interesting to Nicole on Geneva’s laptop were the photos of her daughter, Sophie. A striking, tall, dark-haired (took after Peter, not Geneva) athletic girl. Her nose was too prominent for the girl to be considered beautiful, but Nicole liked what she saw. This was the kind of girl, age-wise certainly, that got Nicole’s motor running. She would like to find out more.


Rosalind entered the pub and squinted; it was dimly lit; but of course, as a pub it had been standing for over two hundred years, so it could be allowed its eccentricities. Kane made her way to the back, where she met up with an old and dear friend of her father’s; one of his sketchier ‘blokes’; a fellow who had done prison time and knew both sides of the legal system; as well as some notoriously bad dudes. And he was someone she had known pretty much her whole life.

“Oh, blimey, would you look a’ this. It’s been bloody ages and you are a sight,“ Alastair Stewart exclaimed,

standing up and giving Kane a hug.

“Hello, Uncle Ally. Thank you so much for seeing me.”

After they had some drinks brought and got past the gossip, Kane became serious. “I need to ask you something, and I really need you to hear me out, Ally.” She said, looking across at her companion.

“Righty, gul, have at ‘er. Y’know I’ll do me best.” He raised his pint glass.

Kane sat silently for a moment; she knew this was a road very hard to turn back from once you were on it. “Do you still know any, um…hit men? I mean serious guys who will take someone out for cash.”

‘Uncle’ Ally just stared. It was not the question he was expecting.


In the Paris offices of Dionysus, the distinguished gentleman felt his private phone vibrate; he answered with irritation. “Yes. He’s done what? When? Damn.”


Dani and Nicole were the last ones left at their table, as the clock moved toward eleven; Friday night or not, everyone else had left.

“So how come you’re still hangin’ babe; what’s with the faithful Lucas?” Nicole asked; they had ordered one final round and the two drinks were just being placed before them.

“Lukey is in Boulder?” Nicole sipped her draft beer.

“Oh my lord, and no announcement was made that Dani was loose on the town?” Nicole teased. They laughed and then each had a sip of their beverage.

“Hey, Nick. How’s things goin’ with Mrs. Peter. Good thing the boss has been stationed in jolly ol’ England, hey?” Dani smirked.

“Yeah, that worked out well. Geneva is lovely. We have had fun, but we’re not getting married or anything. Um,

she and Peter, keep this between us, hey, have a pretty lame marriage. She needed some serious lovin’ and it’s been good.” They sat quietly again.

“Okay, Nick, and don’t get weird here, but I want to know somethin’.” Dani began, with hesitation.

Nicole looked at her assistant, “Yeah, what?”

“Promise you won’t get weird.”

“Yeah, yeah, what are you on about? Spill it. How will I know if I’ll get weird? You’re bein’ weird.”

Dani laughed. “Okay.” She paused. “Okay. Um, what does, um, pussy, uh, taste like?”

Nicole almost fell off her chair. “What the Hell? Dani, you little girl-girl. What does it taste like? And of course you ask the resident muff-muncher.”

“Well, who else would I ask. An’ don’t tell me it tastes like chicken.”

“Ha!” Nicole spat out. “You know, there is a way to find out for yourself.” Nicole smiled.

“C’mon, c’mon, just tell me, I don’t need to find out for myself.”

“Lookit, I can’t turn you lesbo or anything. You have a man; you just wanna know something. Sooooo, come with me and find out. C’mon Dani, why not?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Come into the ladies with me. C’mon, I dare you, And then you’ll know what all the fuss is about.”

“You’re daring me?”

“I am. Come on.” Nicole finished her wine. “Come on, bitch.” Nicole grasped Dani’s hand, and they headed for the washroom.

“Nicole, wait, Slow down. Nicole.” Dani protested, but not all that strongly; there was a part of her that was, interested.

They were at the door to the restroom and Nicole charged through, a big grin on her face, and hauled Dani to the far stall. “Nick. Nicole, N…” Dani wailed, but not loudly. Nicole however was determined.

Once inside the stall, she forced the slightly smaller girl against the cubicle wall and kissed her, Dani kissed her back. Then Nicole lifted up her own skirt and pulled down her nylons and panties, before sitting on the toilet. She pulled Dani down to the floor and brought the dark girl’s face between her legs, with minimal resistance. Dani’s mouth fastened on Nicole’s sex and she began to suck.

“Oh, Jesus, Dani-girl, that is nice. Oh, yeah. Oh, shit….”


Nils Woodford, one of the five directors of Dionysus International, was agitated; one could tell, as he was drumming his fingers impatiently as he awaited his connection. After what was only a moment, Grant Shillings came on. “Where were you, in Dubai?” Woodford complained.

“Keep your woollies on, Nils. I do have other callers. So what’s this about an emergency meeting?”

“Doukas has something up his sleeve; why else would he summon us to London for December fifth?”

“Hmmm. Only a week away. What do you think?” Shillings, the younger of the two, asked.

“I’m not sure but I don’t like it. I’ll be in touch with Carstairs and Gryba this afternoon. You need to reach Bard.”

“Yes, I have a call in to him now.”

“I don’t like it,” Woodford whined.

“So you said.”


Nicole Martin entered the van der Strom offices and cast a quick glance at Dani Flood, apparently hard at work at the reception desk. Dani though looked up with a quick glance, then a wink and a kiss. With a smile on her face, Nicole continued on down to the new (albeit small) office she had just moved into. After settling her things, she buzzed Dani down. The girl entered in a rush. “Nicole, you can’t start….” But Martin silenced her with a powerful kiss and the two stood in embrace.

Dani tried again, “Nicole, please, we need to; no, Nicole stop; oh, God, Nick. Ummmmm.” At this point Nicole had her pants down and was grinding Dani’s face into her crotch.

“Lick me, Dani, and don’t stop. I’ve been thinking of your mouth since Saturday morning.” Dani buried her face in the musky but delightful shaved ribbons of flesh of Nicole’s pussy, lapping furiously. Suddenly Nicole’s phone buzzed to life and Dani sat up straight.

“God, Nicole, you are something. I have to get back. See you.” They kissed, with Nicole quickly licking her juices from Dani’s face. She then turned to her cell.


“Hey, Ducks,” Alistair wheezed into the phone. He didn’t own a cell but he somehow always managed to find a phone when he needed one.

“Uncle Ally,” Rosalind replied. “So what have you come up with?”

“Now, my dear, you are really serious about this? Um serious serious?”

“Deadly serious, Alastair. If I don’t get this guy out of my life, I am not sure how long I can go on.”

Alastair was silent for a moment, deep in thought. He didn’t mind doing a job here and there for a quick score, but contract murder, even in his sketchy life; was a big, big deal. “Ok, let’s forget about how dodgy this is and talk, um, fee, aw’right? This is a bomb, luv, a big fucking (‘scuse me) bomb; can you handle somethin’ like this?”

“How big a bomb we talking, Uncle Ally?”

Another pause. “Twenty thousand quid, ducks.”

Alastair’s voice rose, as this sum of money was beyond  him.

Kane paused. This didn’t surprise her, she sort of had an idea, and of course for her now it wasn’t as much of a ‘bomb’ as it would have been just two months ago.

“Agreed,” she said quickly.

There was a pause. “Well, I’m gobsmacked, luv. I am, and that’s the truth. I guess I’ll need to see a man about a dog, now, won’t I?”


Monday, December fifth in London started out below freezing but with some thin sun breaking through the overcast. The day, for some, would turn out sunny.

Louis Doukas came into the expensively furnished board room of Dionysus International’s London office, in the heart of the financial district. The room was done in blue/grey shades; all the chairs were blue leather and the board room table was dark, almost black, mahogany.

Around that table sat five individuals, four men and one woman. A few feet from the table was a small desk where the efficient looking Ms. Kasmir sat, her laptop open and ready to take minutes. Behind Ms. Kasmir’s petit, black clad form was a side board with coffee, tea, scones, butter tarts and bran muffins as well as the usual fresh cream, real butter and genuine strawberry jam.

Accompanying Doukas were the determined looking Olivia Sheffield and the mild mannered but now alert Peter van der Strom. Doukas handed Sheffield his Himalayan fur overcoat and sat at the head of the table, van der Strom to his left; Elena Kasmir just slightly behind and to his right. Sheffield, after getting Doukas his coffee, seated herself on the blue leather couch against the wall, where she could see and react to her boss.

The five seated around the table were the Chair, Nils Woodford and the other directors: Grant Shillings, Emma Carstairs, Paulos Gryba and Bradley Bard. Shillings at forty was the youngest; Bard at seventy, the oldest.

“Good morning, everyone,” Doukas began in his mellowest of voices. “Kindly excuse the urgency of my request, but as council has confirmed (a brief nod to van der Strom) it is within the rights of the CEO to make such a request.” He paused and looked around the table, like a father with his charges, albeit one was several years his senior.

Woodford cleared his throat and began in his nasally way. “Understood, Mr. Doukas. You have the chair for this meeting (slight bow of the sleek greying head; he looked somewhat like Doukas’s younger brother, were he to have one). Please proceed.” He paused, looking like he had eaten something unpleasant. The remaining board members looked as if their chairs were uncomfortable; all but Bard, who seemed to be enjoying this.


Amara was in the shower when she heard her cell, “Damn! Why does that always happen…” She managed to get to the device on the fourth ring, standing and dripping water from her lanky frame onto the tiles of her bathroom. “Yes,” she answered.

“Catch you doing something?” Gilad’s dark voice asked.

“Yeah, I was in the shower, spy man. I would think you would know such things.” She replied.

“Oh, so now you think we watch women in the shower, hmmmm. I would not object, but no, that is not on our program.”

“Yeah, right. What’s up?”

“Well, anything you have noticed with Mr. Doukas?”

“No, but then I have not seen much of him for a while. I think he’s been busy with riding herd on his corporation. Who knows, but I have not been in the loop. What have you heard?”

“Well, my bosses are incensed by the string of sales that we know he was involved in; it’s almost like he was targeting Jewish art. I have not seen the document, but my understanding is that they have put out a termination order on him.”

Amara stood, naked and still for several moments. “A kill order? Holy shit.” They paused.

“Enjoy your shower, Am. Not too much with the attachments, ok.” Gilad laughed.

Amara laughed back, “Which attachments would that be, Gil, I have several, including two penis-shaped ones.”

Gilad laughed loudly, “Two? Why two?”

“Come on, you know. A large one, black of course, and my much smaller Jewish model.”

“Oh you bitch.” Gilad laughed, “I owe you for that, but then you’ve never seen me, so of course you wouldn’t know.”

They both laughed.


Doukas was smiling. He looked a little like the Cheshire Cat. “So, we have a shareholders meeting coming up very soon, and I believe there is some, um, issue with…my leadership.” Doukas paused and looked around; only Bard met his gaze. Sheffield sat with a small smile on her face as well. Van der Strom simply watched, hoping he would not be called upon to resolve any multi-million dollar disputes.

“The leadership of a company I founded and have built, with some assistance I grant you, to a significant position. But, I understand, it is the directors’ job to direct. So, you shall. Anyone present wish to make a motion regarding the current CEO?” The silence in the room was, as they say, deafening, with only the soft tapping of Kasmir’s fingers to be heard.

Woodford cleared his throat again and appeared to steel himself for a daunting task. “All respect, Mr. Doukas, but the board feels that a new hand needs to be upon the rudder, so to speak, as we navigate this changing world. Nothing lasts forever, sir, and too often companies are afraid of making change; of letting go of the past and embracing the future.”

Doukas tapped his hand on the table in a clapping gesture, “Well said, well said, Mr. Woodford. I understand and, thus, applaud your sentiments. And your course of action?”

Woodford cleared his throat again, glanced at Kasmir and began, “I move, seconded by Grant Shillings, that Louis Doukas be removed from the role of CEO.”

If Doukas was alarmed, he did not show it. If he was angry, it was not evident; he was, in fact, cool and calm; Woodford looked at him.

Doukas spoke, “Hearing the motion, I would ask if there is anyone to speak to it?” The tap-tapping of the laptop was again the only sound. Doukas continued, “Seeing no indication of discussion, I would call the question. However, as a point of privilege, and I believe this holds (he looked at van der Strom, who smiled) that I may request a secret ballot. Yes?”

Van der Strom nodded, and there was slight fidgeting from Shillings; Woodford had on his poker face.

Doukas turned to Kasmir, “Dear Elena, would you please prepare some ballots; there is paper in that drawer and everyone has pens.”

Kasmir retrieved the paper, tearing three sheets carefully in half, and passing them out.

“So, you only need to write in favor or not in favor on your papers. Then please fold the paper in half and place in the middle of the table.” The tension was palpable as the directors marked their ballots, and carefully folded them. When all were ready, they tossed the slips on cue into a small pile.

“Elena, kindly retrieve the ballots and pass them to me.” Elena did this and Doukas sat with the five folded papers before him. He opened one and placed it up: in favor (small smile/grimace from Woodford); a second was opened: not in favor (Woodford’s face darkened); a third was soon sitting: not in favor (Woodford looked like he was going to choke); the fourth said “in favor” and Doukas looked around. “It appears we will have a close vote. All the best to you. I will abide by what this says.”

He opened up the final paper and laid it down: not in favor. Bard grinned; Gryba sat stone-faced; Carstairs regarded her hands; Shillings turned pale; and Woodford struggled mightily with his rage.

“Well, thank you all.” Doukas smiled, then went on, ”So, moving forward, Peter van der Strom will assist the accounts in finalizing the report to the shareholders. It will be a happy report, with our profits this year and the dividends that will go out. And I am certain the rank and file will rest easy knowing a steady hand is still upon the rudder. Now, please help yourself to the wonderful spread that Ms. Kasmir and Ms. Sheffield have provided; there is of course, fresh cream.” Louis Doukas smiled benevolently.


Doukas had retired to the small office just down from the board room while he attended to some business. He looked up at the gentle rap on his door, calling out, “Do come in.” Emma Carstairs entered and stood quietly in front of Doukas’s large desk. She was looking down and clasping and unclasping her hands.

Doukas smiled. “I appreciate your support, Mrs. Carstairs.” Emma continued to look down. Doukas took a fat envelope from his desk and passed it to her; she put it in her handbag without opening it.

After a moment she said quietly, “And my son?”

Doukas regarded her, then opened the left hand desk drawer, and regarded the cell phones, now five, sitting there. He picked up number two, looked briefly at the contacts, chose one and pressed the call. In a moment he spoke. “You have young Carstairs in view. Good. You may leave and send the others back; this affair has ended. No, no further action. Good.” Doukas hung up.

Carstairs looked at him. “You have what you wish. Do

you want my resignation now?”

Doukas stroked his chin. “No, Mrs. Carstairs, although in the future, I would remind you that betrayal is more vile than assault.” Carstairs stood in silence. “Enjoy your trip back to Stratford.”

Carstairs turned to leave, then hesitated, “Just because I was in discussion with them, doesn’t mean I intended to vote with them,” she said.

“Really?” Doukas asked quietly. “Well, that is now water under the bridge.” He smiled his thin smile.


Woodford sat in a corner booth, nursing his second double scotch. Shillings slid in across from him, placed his order for a bourbon and regarded the other. “He hasn’t asked for our resignations.”

“No. I have no idea of his plans, but I am convinced they are not pleasant. He prefers to grind things under his heel.”

Shillings drink arrived and he sipped it. “So, now what?”

Woodford looked across the table, darkly. “There are more ways to skin this particular cat.”

Shillings regarded the other with concern. “That sounds ominous Nils. Is it really down to that?”

“You can sit there with your ass kicked and ask that?

Silence settled on them; the voices in the room seeming to recede. Woodford’s mind mulled dark and vengeful thoughts.


(End of Chapter 13)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 12 There Is No Rose Without A Thorn

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 12 There Is No Rose Without A Thorn 

Nicole’s phone vibrated as she finished rinsing her mouth. She noted the time; seven oh one. “Hello?” she said, walking back to the table to get her bowl.

“H-hello, um, Nicole, I am sorry for calling early….”

“That’s fine, Geneva, I am just heading off to the office. What’s up (Nicole smiled at that, as if there was any doubt ‘what was up’)?”

“Well, oh my gosh, um, where to start and you’re needing to get to work….”

“Hey, I’m a multi-tasker,” Nicole laughed, carrying her bowl to the sink. “I can get my things and get going and still chat with you, sweets.”

Geneva laughed at that and started up. She had never been one to talk easily about feelings or emotions, so this was difficult. But she had always wanted a close girlfriend, someone to confide in and it had never been, so this was exciting. And of course there was…the sex. “Um, I just needed to touch base, um, about last night….”

“Yes…” Nicole encouraged, opening her car door and putting her briefcase in.

“Well, gosh, I really can’t stop, um, you know….”

“Thinking about that wonderful moment you had, how good it felt, how good you felt?”

At her house, Geneva was pacing as she talked. This was difficult; but even as she talked, hearing Nicole’s voice, that tone, that intimacy, she began to get stimulated. Last night Nicole had undressed her and fondled her to orgasm. She could not remember her last one, a sad commentary on her life. She could not even remember the last time anyone’s fingers but her own were, well, inside her. Nicole had made her say the ‘c’ word, and that had both embarrassed and aroused her. Such a nasty word.

Her sexual life with Peter, despite producing two children, was as Nicole had guessed; not much. It had always been very simple; the formula: some kissing, some touching; Peter placing her hand on his erection, she jerking him for a few minutes as he tugged her clothes off before climbing on top and stuffing his erection inside a vagina that was rarely if ever ready. Some semi—painful or at best, mundane intercourse followed; that is, if Peter hadn’t already ejaculated upon entering. And nothing for her, Geneva; ever.

Her entire sex life was, to be blunt, so unlike last night, when the climax itself, after so long, had been unbelievable. (And compared to the ones she produced on her own, standing in the shower with the attachment, ‘washing’ herself, last night was the Fourth of July.)

Afterwards, she had just stayed in place, lying there, legs spread, Nicole holding her and gently kissing her. She felt so completely at peace and satisfied. When Nicole had tried to move away, Geneva had clung to her; she didn’t want it to end.

Then this morning she had awoken at five and just lay there, remembering. She fondled herself briefly, but the old feelings of shame returned. She remembered her mother, forcing her to stand naked in the corner after catching her touching herself. She still remembered the pain as her mother strapped her hands and then spanked her between her legs.

But last night had been so unbelievable that she needed to connect with Nicole; needed to hear that voice; so she lay and waited until seven when she thought that it would be okay. And now she was speaking to her, struggling to say what she felt. Struggling to ask what she wanted.

“Yes, um, Nicole; I felt very good, I think you figured  that out.“ They both chuckled. “And I thought, maybe I could see you today, to talk. You know so much more than me about, um, these things (Nicole smiled) that I would like, um….”

“Would you like to come to my place, tonight, Gen?”

Nicole heard a small gasp, and then a pause, “Oh, yes, oh, um, could we, meet tonight. I can come over, if that’s all right?”

Nicole now paused. She didn’t have much time, soon she would be joining heavier traffic and would need to focus. “What are you wearing?”

There was a pause, “My, um, robe….”

“What else?”

“Just, my, um, panties.”

“Take off your robe and panties. Do it now.” There was a pause. “So, what do you have on now?”

“I-uh, nothing.”

“You’re naked? Say it.”

“I, oh jeez, I’m, um, n-naked.”

“Say I’m naked, Miss Nicole.”

Nicole heard another gasp, then. “Ohhh, my gosh…I’m, uh naked, M-miss Nicole.”

“Get on your knees and say it.”

“Oh, oh please; um, oh please, oh lord, mmmm. Oh. I’m naked, on my knees, M-miss Nicole. Ohhhhhhh. Jesus! I’m naked for you. Uh. Pleeeeaaase.”

Nicole waited; it sounded like Geneva was sobbing. “You are a good girl, Geneva. Be at my house at eight. Prompt.” The line went dead and Geneva stayed on her knees, her eyes closed, swaying, soft mewing noises oozing out of her. She placed both hands between her thighs and slowly went down to the carpet, and then into a fetal position, squeezing her sex for a moment. “Oh. My. God.” She whispered, then laughed at her tears.

It would be okay.


Rosalind Kane turned off her cell and smiled. There. That was done. She had booked her month long vacation; and she had booked her plane tickets and her accommodation in Bali, at least for the first week; she would decide on things once she was actually there. Then, once she was away and her month was up, she would submit her resignation and disappear. She sat back in her chair and folded her hands.

The five deals she had done with Doukas had netted her just under two million pounds, which was a lot of cash to keep under the radar, but she knew a thing or two about moving money. She had paid off her flat in London and bought a little cottage in Scotland, off the beaten path but modernized and in great shape. A hide-away.

She would leave and not look back.

At some point, when she wanted to, she would return and maybe get into estate sales, looking for art that people were getting rid of and not aware of its value. She could putter around as she wished. She smiled.

And, she promised herself, she would never, ever give another blow job in her life, whether she liked the guy or not; didn’t matter. Wasn’t going to happen. She smiled again; one more day.


Nicole’s cell vibrated again with a ‘private number’ designation. “Nicole Martin,” she answered.

“Yes, Ms. Martin,” Nicole recognized the unpleasant Ms. Sheffield as her caller. “I will be passing the phone along to your boss in a moment; we are here with van der Strom and he needs to speak with you, but I am letting you know that we will be moving Tatjana tomorrow and your help is required. Ssssh,” Sheffield interjected, sensing Nicole was about to interrupt, “She is going to stay with a woman in New York who is a psychologist; we are in agreement that there are, issues, with the girl that need looking into. Certainly something beyond you, so the cab will come for her tomorrow at ten. Peter has contacted your office to say you will be working from home tomorrow, as we have a couple of matters for you to attend to. Now, here he is.”

In a moment, the quiet and precise voice of Peter van der Strom began relating some information which Nicole had difficulty focusing on, part of her mind on Tatjana and part on Geneva. In the end she got enough out of the conversation to proceed. After the call ended, she sat, staring ahead, not really sure what she felt.


At eight o’clock precisely, the bell chimed at Susan’s/Nicole’s home. Nicole took her time answering it, wanting Geneva to wait. When she opened the door, the woman was standing and looking excited but trying desperately to appear normal.

“Come in Geneva. You are on time. That is a good girl and I am so happy to see you.” Nicole led the way to the small, intimate office/den and had Geneva throw her coat over a chair; then handed her a glass of wine. They sat, and Nicole intentionally kept the conversation on general topics as they drank; Geneva, nervous and excited, had her glass gone in a few moments. Nicole smiled and thought; time to begin.

“Ok, my sweet, now let’s see how serious you are about learning to love. And remember, the door is right there. You are free to go if you choose.” She waited, watching Geneva, who sat like a child on Christmas morning who is made to wait. Nicole smiled a warm smile, “Ok, stand and turn around. That’s it. Now slip that dress off.”

There was a moment’s hesitation, and then the garment fell to the floor, Nicole bending quickly to scoop it up. “Very nice. You have a lovely figure, Gen. You are a very attractive woman. A womanly woman.” Nicole could not see Geneva’s face redden with the praise and her growing arousal. “Ok, my sweet, now undo your bra, and let’s have those tits out.” At the word ‘tits’, Geneva started, but with her hands having difficulty due to their trembling, she still managed to unclip her bra and it too was dropped to the floor.

Nicole stood, sipping her wine, enjoying this moment, like a conductor stands and admires the scene before the arrival of the audience. “I’m glad you have no nylons, just your panties on, and we’re going to get you some sexier ones. It will be our little secret. Okay, slowly, and I mean slowly, take your panties down.”

Shaking and with her breath coming rapidly along with a touch of light-headedness, Geneva tugged her panties down, pausing twice, before finally removing them and standing, still with her back to Nicole, who now came up behind the naked woman and gripped her shoulders, kissing her neck before reaching around and massaging the modest breasts. Geneva moaned and rubbed her buttocks against Nicole. Nicole’s hand moved slowly down until it found the wild bush between Geneva’s legs.

“We need to deal with this, my sweet,” Nicole whispered into Geneva’s ear as she tugged on the tangle of brown/blonde hair. “I’m going to enjoy shaving my pet.” Geneva cried out now as Nicole had found her clitoris and was rotating her thumb against it in her skillful way. “Arch your back for me, Gen. That’s it, tell me how much you want me.”

Geneva now was just moaning, bits of words mixed in among the sighs, gasps, ooohs and ahhhs. Suddenly, as the left-hand fingers worked Geneva’s pleasure center, Nicole drove two fingers of her right hand, from behind, deep into Geneva’s dripping wet hole.

Geneva’s knees buckled and she mashed Nicole’s hand into her sex, humping the hand like a bitch in heat, until her orgasm gradually receded. Nicole let her slowly calm down, before laying her on the leather couch; kissing her mouth, sucking her tongue, her hand all the while nestled in Geneva’s warm, wet vagina.

Then, slowly, Nicole extricated her hand and Geneva opened her eyes, looking like she had been drugged, smiling a crooked smile like a child coming out of a dream. Nicole now brought Geneva to the floor and had her kneel. She then walked over to the desk and took something from it, returning to stand in front of the

naked woman.

Nicole held up what was in her hand; a brown, leather dog collar, about two inches wide, with the words ‘My Bitch’ written in black marker. Nicole looked kindly down on Geneva, who was now focused and waiting. “I have a gift for my pet.” She murmured. “What does it say, Gen?”

Geneva looked at the collar and up at Nicole, “M-my, um bitch.” She said softly.

“Yes,” Nicole said, fastening the collar around Geneva’s slim neck.

“There, that looks perfect.” Nicole commented, kissing Geneva’s forehead. “What does my pet say?” Nicole asked quietly.

Geneva knelt still for a moment, then she smiled. “Thank you, Miss Nicole.”


Rosalind Kane put the last few papers into her briefcase, and marched to the door. She looked around; she hadn’t left anything personal. She smiled, and turned off the light. Heading out the back door, she checked it after it closed and was satisfied it was locked. She then walked down the alley way to her  waiting Mini Cooper. She noticed the van parked just down the way, but she didn’t notice the movement behind her, not until it was too late.

She felt the stab of the needle just as she sensed a form beside her; once the needle found its mark, she was able to turn, in her last moment of consciousness, and look into the smiling face of Olivia Sheffield.

Olivia watched as the woman was bundled into the van. She picked up Kane’s handbag as it had fallen; found the keys beside it and climbed awkwardly into the small car; started it, put it in gear and drove off.


Tatjana was gone; Doukas’s efficient helper, a mild-looking woman in her early thirties (what’s her story, Nicole wondered) having bustled her off to a waiting cab and giving her a new device to play with. At the last moment, Tatjana had turned and looked back at Nicole, smiling and waving. And then she was gone.

Nicole stood silently for a moment and went back into her house; as they had planned, she would be working from home today. She poured herself a coffee and walked leisurely back into her bedroom, standing beside her bed and looking down at the naked form of Geneva van der Strom, tied spread-eagle and face down there.

Nicole had inserted the smallest of the butt plugs she had into Geneva’s very tight anus. She now ran her hand up the slim, muscular legs; she must be a runner, too, she thought.

The body tensed and shifted, muffled sounds coming from the mouth, filled with Nicole’s panties. Geneva was also blindfolded, as Nicole wanted her to be completely at her mercy today. As she was standing, her cell shook and she answered; it was her boss. “Hello, Peter.” Nicole said in a business-like manner, while inserting a finger into Geneva’s moistened pussy as she talked. This was so delicious, Nicole thought to herself, chatting with her boss as his wife was humping herself on her hand.



“Hello, Tatjana, I’m Marie Prescott.” Tatjana smiled and nodded, “This is your room; I really hope you’ll like it.” Tatjana looked around and smiled again. Then she looked at Dr. Prescott and Ms. Watkins, one of Sheffield’s many hired hands who did whatever jobs needed doing.

“Miss Nicole?” Tatjana asked, her head to one side, her lovely face showing confusion.

Prescott and Watkins exchanged a glance, then Prescott spoke in the soothing manner she was known for, “Miss Nicole is not here now. Maybe some day she will come; but this is your home now.” The room became silent for

a moment; and then Tatjana seemed to remember her new device, and she started playing some game on it.

Prescott and Watkins exchanged a quick smile.

**** ****

Rosalind Kane tied off the bag, weighed it again, and passed it to the naked girl beside her. There were four women in the room; all were naked and all were currently weighing bags of drugs (right now it was cocaine) and packaging them ready for delivery.

Kane and the other three women were part of a larger group of eight, who slept and stayed in the back room of Sammi Choo’s Bar; a sketchy hang out, with the bar acting as a front for card games, including some high stakes poker. There was also a roulette wheel and a Baccarat table.

By day the girls, working in two shifts, bagged drugs; by night they worked the bar. So far, Kane had not been used sexually; this bar did not provide prostitution; the Imperial, three shops down, did. Both were owned by Castle Imports, but neither resembled anything close to a castle. They were seedy and nondescript, but the poker attracted high rollers and the booze was of a superior quality. And the girls were a bonus.

In the one poker room, the servers could be touched, and Kane, despite being the oldest woman on site, had the ass and breasts the mainly Asian clientele preferred, so she was mauled daily; she was; however, never fucked; and, so far, not even asked for a blow job.

After Sheffield had abducted the woman, Kane was transported directly to this bar in Bangkok and had been here since. She had tried to keep track of the days, for whatever reason, and she was reasonably sure it had been almost a month.

Her vacation, as it turned out; the thought made her sick.


The spinning wheel, Nicole thought, looking down at Geneva’s blonde head as the woman licked her feet. If her slave did well with the feet, then she was allowed the thighs and ultimately, the prize; the dark, fleshy folds and creases of Nicole’s labia and then into her vagina. Susan was gone, Tatjana was gone; Geneva was in, and the wheel continued to spin.

Nicole could feel her arousal coming slowly; it had been a couple of days since her last ‘service’ and she was feeling a teensy bit horny. She reached down and grabbed a handful of the blonde hair, lifting the face up, then spitting on it, “What are you?” She asked Geneva.

“A whore,” the response, now after a few weeks of ‘training’, came promptly. Feeling good, Nicole spread her legs so both her pussy and anus were near Geneva’s face. “Would you like to eat my ass, whore?”

Geneva moaned; it was always amazing to her, what Nicole’s voice, her words, could do to her. ”Yes, please Mistress.” There was a time, not long ago at all, basically the month, when she thought vaginas and everything ‘down there’ was smelly and disgusting. She had discovered that she really didn’t believe that after all; especially with Miss Nicole. Geneva loved licking the woman’s genitals and would lie contentedly, performing this act until her mistress told her to stop.

She leaned forward now, inserting her tongue into the puckered brown hole, gently, lovingly rimming it before lapping it like one would an ice cream cone.   

“Oh sweet Jesus,” Nicole sighed, “that is so, so good. Put your tongue as far in as you can, you fucking filthy ass-slut.” Nicole ground herself on Geneva’s mouth, thinking how well things had worked out.

Peter had been asked (was he given much choice, Nicole wondered) to open a London office for van der Strom Law, but Doukas wanted him running it personally. He had only been back for two days in the month since; allowing Nicole’s new, incredibly enthusiastic slave,

to stay with her (much to Hailey’s amusement, but also annoyance).

Both van der Strom children: Josh, twenty-two and Sophie, twenty-one, were away at colleges, so the arrangement worked without issue. As far as the wheel spinning, the only noticeable change from Susan to Geneva, was that Geneva turned out to be a masochist as well as a submissive; she got off on punishment, which really wasn’t Susan’s, or Nicole’s, thing. But Nicole had worked with it, and developed a routine where she spanked or abused Geneva at least once a day, without thinking much on it.

“That’s good, you worthless whore.” Nicole grunted, swinging her leg over Geneva’s head and standing.  “Your owner wants to watch you now, so crawl over here.” Geneva crawled to the chair Nicole indicated and sat on it. Nicole then tied the woman’s legs wide apart to the arms of the chair. She then pushed a vibrating egg deep into Geneva’s now almost always wet hole and turned it to medium. She finished by tying her slave’s hands behind her back.

Directly in front of Geneva was a large television, and Nicole now inserted a custom CD into the blue-ray. She had only skimmed through this and wanted now to watch it in full; and to have Geneva-slave watch it with her. Geneva was, after all, the star.

As their month together had evolved, Nicole quickly realized that Geneva was ready and willing for anything and after three weeks Nicole had begun thinking ‘outside the box’ or at least, outside her ‘box’, for different ways to use her slave.

In her past, with her various other submissives, Nicole had always kept it girl-on-girl. She sometimes had used her girls with other women, but had also fantasized about having them service men, under Nicole’s direction and for her amusement. She had just never gotten around to trying it.

This past Thursday, she had put her plan to work; with Geneva. Nicole had hired three black men, had rented a motel room and the adjacent room; and had set up hidden cameras (four) in the one room and the players and monitors in the other; she had actually had Geneva pay the rent for the room. She also had the woman dress like a street hooker and be there, awaiting her three ‘johns’. Nicole’s buddy Marnie had worked the camera feeds and had then helped with the editing.

The edited CD ended up being twenty-two minutes of Geneva being gang-fucked by the three blacks; in all the possible variations, including double penetration, after all three had fucked her anally to ‘get the party going’. In the end, as the three men dressed and left, Geneva lay on the bed, cum was dripping visibly from her anus and vagina, and spattered on her mouth and nose; the final man had ejaculated on her face.

Now Nicole was going to sit and enjoy this in full; her slave would be watching as well, prepared as she was. Nicole took her thin, leather belt, and lashed it across Geneva’s spread vagina, eliciting a sharp cry. “What are you?”

“Ohhh, ummmm, uhhh. I’m your filthy whore, your cunt, Mistress Nicole.” Words that at one time, not long ago, would have choked in Geneva’s throat, now came flowing out easily, her hips moving to the vibrations of her egg. “Please,” Geneva begged. “Please.”


As Rosalind Kane made her rounds with her drink tray, she dropped off four local beers to one table and two tall cocktails to another and then noticed the single shot of vodka sitting there; a feeling of dread spreading through her. She was to take the drink to the man in the corner; the man sitting in the darkened end of the room. As she approached the table her heart began to pound and she almost felt like she should sit; but she carried on.

In a moment, as she got closer, the man in the shadows emerged until Kane finally stood, looking down at the calm face, of Louis Doukas. “Hello, Ms. Kane, busy I see.” Doukas murmured as Kane, with trembling hands, placed the drink before him. Kane was unable to respond; she just stood, trying desperately not to scream. “How has the…vacation been? Actually, Miss (he looked at his cell) Durham has enjoyed Bali in your place; thank you for that. But now it’s time to be heading back to England, no?” He swallowed his drink and smiled up at her.

Kane dropped her tray with a clatter, and sank to her knees by his feet.

(End of Chapter 12)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 11 Beliefs, Promises, Agreements & Lies

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 11 Beliefs, Promises, Agreements & Lies 

Amara and Stavros had been on the road almost three days. Starting from Craiova they drove the five ton to Krakow, or at least a farm just outside, where they located the barn and the three statues, the heaviest of which was fifty kilos. Amara was thankful that she had chosen Stavros, who was young, large and strong.

They then drove to a warehouse in the city where they loaded the truck with boxes of legitimate electronics, which they would need for the border crossings, as they were headed for Germany.

Now, nearing the end of their journey, they were approaching Stuttgart, and the estate of a wealthy German industrialist who had bought the three statues. Doukas had paid Sabău fourteen million American dollars for the three stone images of Christ and a property in New Jersey. The property wasn’t worth much in the overall scheme, but gave the business the appearance of a legitimate transaction. He sent the paperwork to Nicole, which Amara noted. She also noted the smile on Doukas’s face.

Today, the German would transfer twenty-four million American dollars into one of Doukas’s accounts, as well as a property in Germany, near Berlin.

“Stop here,” Amara said, and Stavros pulled over as Amara looked closely at her GPS. “Ok, just up there.” They were in an area of estates and the villas had German names on the signs, not numbers. They found the one that translated to ‘Wolf’s Lair’ (charming, Amara thought) and pulled up to the gate.

Twenty minutes later the truck was exiting the grounds and Doukas was millions of dollars ahead; if it mattered, Amara pondered. She had noted the clear evidence that Herr Busch was a closet Nazi; and that disturbed her.

“Let it go,” Stavros said in Greek. “What difference does it make to you who has the fucking statues. They’re just stone statues.”

But Amara knew that wasn’t the case. They were created by a Jewish artist and had meaning for the Jewish people. She knew her discussion with Gilad would be different from Stavros.

“I’m starved,” was Amara’s reply.

Two hours later, they had found a hotel and then a restaurant in Stuttgart. They were lounging with German coffees after just consuming two pitchers of German beer to wash down large portions of pork Schnitzel and dumplings; followed of course by chocolate cake.

Two hours later, Amara lay beside the large, sleeping form of Stavros. Earlier he had pounded her to her satisfaction for over an hour. “Young and strong,” she said to herself. I needed that, she thought, although at that moment the image of Nicole, lying naked with her hands tied over her head, came to her.

Some day, before too long.

Amara leaned against the solid mass beside her and slept.


“Hello Am,” the deep voice of Gilad answered the early morning call, “I was planning on calling you, so thanks.”

“Yeah, it has been a few weeks.”

“Things in this business move very slowly,” Gilad noted. “I’m hoping you have something.”

“I do.” And Amara told him of all the dealings with the statues; Gilad listening intently apart from an uttered profanity here and there.

“A Nazi, son-of-a-bitch, it would be. Those bastards will never let it go.”

“I agree,” Amara said without emotion. She could understand Gilad’s reaction; time does not heal all things. But her dealings with Germans over the years had mostly been positive. Nazis on the other hand; they would always be bad news.

“I would like to pay this Mr. Busch a call.” Gilad said.

“You can’t; not yet. I am the only one who knows of him so Doukas would know I betrayed him. It is not time; you must be patient.”

Gilad grunted.

“After all,” Amara noted, “it has been over seventy years. A few months more is not too hard to bear.”


Susan and Beth were out walking in Sorrento. They had stopped and were looking north over the Bay of Naples. Although it was October, the days were still mild here, by the sea. “This is lovely, my sweet,” Beth said, wrapping an arm around the waist of her ‘pet’. “We’ve been here what, three weeks?”

“Three,” Susan agreed, resting her head on the other’s shoulder.

“I’ve seen these cliffs and ravines every day for three weeks, yet when I look at them, I’m still moved.”

“Speaking of moved, maybe we should move here?”

Beth looked at her, “Are you being serious?”

“It is peaceful and lovely and it’s like two hours to drive to Rome. We could probably buy a little villa. You could throw parties.” Susan winked.

Beth chuckled and smiled. “It sounds enticing, but I still need to make some more money. I’m not ready to retire just yet; but it is lovely; we have found this and enjoyed this. It certainly has appeal.”

They turned and walked in a leisurely fashion, soon reaching the Piazza Tasso, in the center of the town. They strolled among the mellow old buildings, past numerous little tourist boutiques until they came upon a restaurant that appealed to them. They were holding hands and unconcerned for the occasional stare. It was a wonderful holiday atmosphere. As they walked, Susan was remembering.

One week into their Italian trip, while still in Rome, Beth had taken her slave to a ‘party’, thrown by a long-time friend, former lover and, like Beth, a dominant. She had in the last year moved to Rome and was living on a splendid estate.

Beth and Roxanne had stayed in touch, aware of their similar tastes and needs. Roxanne was delighted when Beth called to say she would be coming to Italy with a new slave. Roxanne put the event together just for her.

Susan was remembering that weekend, for it ended up extending to Sunday evening from Friday night. There were twelve dominants invited: three couples, two solo males and four solo females. Everyone had a slave; the couples bringing two to ensure that.

It was Susan’s first time being naked and available as a slave in a group setting. Both Nicole and Beth had taken her to restaurants and there had been brief moments, but this was a slave party. Susan wore a collar with Beth’s name on it and nothing else, from Friday ‘til Sunday.

Over that time, the slaves were fondled, groped, spanked (no whippings) tied up, had objects inserted into all openings, made to have sex with each other and of course, fucked by all. Susan was amazed by a number of her reactions. She was amazed at how incredibly aroused she was just by being part of it; she was amazed at enjoying being fucked by a man, although having Beth watching was what made it work for her. She was amazed by her number or orgasms; she had lost track, but knew it was seven or eight ‘good’ ones and a number of briefer, less intense but still pleasant ones.

When it was over, Susan had spent Monday just lying around, recovering. “We need to give that pussy a rest,” Beth had smiled and Susan had agreed, although thinking of doing it again got her excited. “So how did you like being fucked by an actual penis, attached to a man?” Beth asked, the smile still on her face.

“If you hadn’t been there, it would have been different; that I believe. But from an arousal, um, sense, I liked it. A lot, really. I need to remember, not every man is as lame as Roland, bless his heart. But forget me, what about you? You seemed to enjoy your um, fucking.” Susan laughed, remembering Beth at one point having one man humping her energetically from behind as she sucked the cock of a man in front.

Both men had their partners watching, and Susan was bound, kneeling, beside her mistress so she could observe the cock sliding in and out of the hole she worshipped. “I liked it, but again, you were there and that excited me no end. Remember, sweetie, I was married for four years to a man who had one of those penis things. The first two years the sex was really good, so I’m not down on men. Or penises. I prefer women; or, certain women.”

Beth had then come over and planted a kiss on Susan’s vagina. “Like you,” she laughed.

Since that weekend, it had just been the two of them, sometimes hot sex, but generally just being together and being close; touching, kissing. Tenderness, Susan would describe it as. Like tonight, just walking together and talking and touching; being close. It was wonderful.

I am so, so, so lucky, Susan told herself several times.

Now they had finished a lovely, shared seafood platter and were finishing their wine when Beth looked across the table and asked, “Still miss Nicole?”

Susan looked back at Beth, who looked enchanting with the sun now highlighting her blonde head. She pondered. She could say several things, but she said the truth. “No, I don’t miss Nicole. I have lovely memories of her. But I have you. Or, you have me, whatever works. I am so lucky,” she said, her thoughts now out there with the early evening calls of the seabirds and the warm glow of being with someone you care for deeply.


Hailey was tied down on a bench; there was a thin cushion covering the bench, but the main idea was that she be at a certain height. She had a blindfold over her eyes because someone thought that would be cool; it wouldn’t have mattered because she had only previously seen one of the five black girls that were taking turns using a strap-on with her.

Roshana, the black girl Hailey had licked to orgasm in the park several weeks back, was familiar. Alexis had enjoyed watching her slave used by a ‘black ho’ and had made contact with the girl, bringing her once to Hailey’s house and once to her own.

The sessions that followed, to Hailey’s mind anyway, had been more intense but less pleasurable. The idea of being used and abused was no longer arousing to her; Hailey wasn’t sure why and wasn’t sure what to say to Alexis, which was why she was now in this position, being gang-banged by a group of black girls.

As Roshana had advertised it to her squad, ‘bring your fav dildo and use it on a white bitch’. It was now an hour in and everyone had had at least one turn and  Hailey had just been turned over and everyone would have a second go.

Alexis was over to one side of the room where she could see everything. One of the black girls was eating her out as well, which was the price she had charged. Each girl who wanted to ‘hump the ho’ had to go down on her, too.

“Uhhhh, ummmm,” Alexis moaned. “Black girls know how to eat pussy!” she yelled out.

“True dat,” Violet, a tall, slim girl called back, as she slowly forced her stubby four-inch black phallus into Hailey’s dark, brown hole. “An’ we knows how to fuck good, too. Specially white ho’s.”

The girls who had them raised beers; everyone hooted.


Nicole considered carefully as she wrote a note to (that bitch) Sheffield. The note and some papers were going back to Doukas; some legal matter, and Nicole was taking this opportunity to pursue the issue of Tatjana. What she wanted was for the girl to be left in her care for the next year or two; clearly Doukas realized there was something ‘off’ with her and it was a risk dealing her somewhere else. Nicole was prepared to look after her; she just wanted it confirmed.

Nicole walked the envelope down to Dani’s desk. “Hey there.” Dani greeted her as Nicole passed the envelope over. Through the door to her right, Nicole noticed Peter van der Strom’s wife in his office with him. This was unusual.

“Hi yourself. Can you get this away for me?”

“Sure, Ms. W.” Dani smiled.

“So, what’s going on with the boss’s wife? She’s never in.” Nicole nodded toward the office.

Dani looked through the glass partition. “Not sure, but Mr. VDS got calls this morning and he’s headed over to London.”

The next several moments had Dani filling Nicole in on a Dionysus development involving the need for a partner and concerning some major European business. Peter was handling it himself, and would be gone for several days. “I think Geneva is just here picking up some stuff that needs dealing with.”

Nicole had always found Geneva attractive, even though she was far from a classic beauty. She was about Nicole’s height and slim; ‘delicate’ Nicole would describe the woman, with modest breasts and what would likely be called mousey, uninspired hair worn long.

But what had attracted Nicole were the woman’s eyes; and her demeanor. The eyes were enchanting and the demeanor was definitely submissive and Nicole could smell the woman’s need across a room; she was begging to be dominated, but obsessed-with-work and generally clueless Peter would not have recognized the cues if Geneva was wearing a ‘spank me’ sign. At least that was Nicole’s opinion.

She now noticed Dani was…watching her. “What’s with you?” She asked the assistant, who was now sitting with a definite smirk on her face.

“Looking for a replacement for Susan?” Dani asked quietly.

Slightly taken aback (she thought Susan and her had been very discreet) Nicole said, “What are you on about, girl?”

Dani laughed, “Don’t street-talk me, girl-yourself. As if I didn’t know.”

Nicole waited, her heart now pounding; why? “What do you know, kiddo?”

“It’s okay, Nicole. I’m your pal, so no need to go all Daniel Craig on me.”

Nicole continued to just look; unsure of how to handle this.

Dani sighed, smiled and began. “Okay, let’s get this down. A, Nicole is a lesbian; B, Nicole seduces boss and makes her, her girl-toy; C, something happens, now boss is gone, and D, Nicole is now looking around for a new fun and games gal. Oh look, if it isn’t other boss’s pretty and quiet little ‘wifey’, hmmmm, maybe? How am I doin’, girl?” Dani smiled and reached out to rest her hand on top of Nicole’s. “It’s okay. Really. I’m cool with it all. Everything.”

“And you’re good with hanging out with the lesbo?” Nicole smiled.

“Hey, I have my man. I’m good. I got all the lovin’ I can handle; but I like you as a gal-pal, so sure, we’ll hang. No worries, I say.”

At that moment, Geneva came out and started down the hall, but stopped when she saw Nicole. “Oh, Ms. Martin. I was just going to see you.”

“Great, Mrs. V. Let’s grab one of these empty rooms.” As she steered van der Strom to a door, Nicole caught Dani’s face and the wink she gave, forcing Nicole to stifle a laugh.


When Nicole arrived home, Tatjana came out to greet her, taking her coat and briefcase and scurrying off. As she passed the den, she noticed Hailey sitting quietly in the room and paused by the door. “Hey, kid, what’s up?’ Nicole asked.

Hailey looked up with a sad face and asked, “Nicole, can I talk with you?”

“Sure, Hails,” Nicole answered and for the next fifteen minutes Hailey talked and Nicole listened. It was sort of your regular teen-angst situation, except that Hailey’s was complicated by being in a dominant / submissive love relationship, not really regular at all for the average senior. The bottom-line was that there was certainly something in the submission act which Hailey found compelling, but the problem was she was in a relationship with an inexperienced girl who was just trying things out like the proverbial kid in the candy store.

Hailey was being used and abused for Alexis’s pleasure, and she didn’t like it, which meant she had to question her feelings. “How can you be sure of what, like, um, you feel? For real, you know?” she asked, sounding like a girl again, rather than the attractive eighteen-year-old young woman she had developed into.

“So, what do you want to happen, Hails?” Nicole asked, not unkindly. Hailey was quiet for a few moments. Nicole persisted, “Do you want to end this thing with Alexis?” Hailey slowly nodded her head. “You need to tell me so I am sure that this is coming from you.”

Hailey sighed. “Love is hard, hey, Nicole?”

“Yeah, Hailey, in some ways, yeah. But, I’m not sure this is love, y’know. It’s easy to mix up, um, desire with love, ‘cuz the media is always kind of showing them to be the same. It’s what we hear, all the time. But what Alexis did to you tonight, even though you have no physical, um, damage well…that’s not love.”

Hailey nodded her head. “You’re right, Nicole. You’re right. And I do want to end this, um, thing with Alexis. But um, I’m not sure how. She still, uh, has stuff here and everything….”

Nicole patted Hailey’s arm. “That’s okay. I’ll be your lawyer and look after everything.” She smiled and just then Tatjana brought in a glass of wine.


True to her word, next day being Saturday, Nicole summoned Alexis over and had her clothes piled in the entrance way. Alexis was not happy but Nicole was very convincing, and in the end, Alexis left; Hailey stayed in her room the whole time.

Afterwards, she admitted to being a little sad, but relieved.

Get used to it kid, Nicole thought, you got a lot of years left.


In a small park in downtown Paris, the distinguished looking gentleman was sitting and apparently reading a paper. He did not look at the man who came and sat at the end of the bench. That man took out his own paper, and then spoke. “Gryba wants to wait until after the shareholders meeting in December. He has a point. Ousting Doukas now could cause uncertainty, and that makes the masses upset.

The first man sighed. It was not an argument he would win; the writing, as they say, was on the wall. “Fine. I understand. But we need to be ready; I would suggest early January.”

“Agreed.” The second man left. Two pigeons fluttered down and pecked around the remaining man’s feet. “Sorry guys. I have nothing for you today. Not even crumbs.”


In the end, it was agreed; it was easier for Nicole to just go to the van der Stroms and pick up the documents that had been left for her to deal with. Peter van der Strom would be gone at least a week, and he needed Nicole to get onto these affairs Monday.

The Koning residence and the van der Stroms were not far apart. Nicole made the drive in ten minutes and was impressed with the curving drive that swept past mature trees and brought the visitor to the faux Tudor-style home, sitting formidably on a large lot.

Nicole made her way up the wide walk to the impressive oak doors, flanked by two marble lions. Her call was answered by a woman in a black outfit who nonetheless was the maid. She directed Nicole into a cozy den/office that had shelves of books, a large, wooden desk, a love seat and a chair. And a small table with probably twenty folders stacked on it.

Geneva came in wearing a modest light blue dress; her hair in a ponytail; looking younger than her forty-three years. “Good-day, Nicole, May I offer you something? Coffee, tea, water, juice?”

Or you, Nicole thought, but she smiled and said she was fine. She wouldn’t have minded a glass of wine, but it was Sunday morning at eleven, and that was likely not the best idea. They spent the next twenty minutes going over the instructions Peter had left and sorting out the files Nicole was to take. When all was sorted, Geneva said, “I hate to be inhospitable, there must be something to offer. Perhaps a glass of wine?”

Nicole looked at the woman. She was looking very, tantalizing today; her dress suited her slim form and gave her a very feminine aspect. “Actually, a glass of wine would be nice. I know it’s noon, but what the heck, hmmm?”

“I agree,” Geneva smiled and the maid was summoned, brought two glasses of red and announced she was now off.

“Right. That’s fine, Anita. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The two women sipped their wine and a sort of awkward silence fell over them; neither knowing the other really at all. In the end, a question of children got them talking.

Eventually, Geneva asked, “So you are staying at Susan Koning’s and looking after her daughter. How is that going?”

After the chat about teens and challenges, Geneva, clearly not knowing much about ‘things’, innocently asked, “So, how is it that Susan asked you to do this and where has she gone?”

Nicole, with both of them finished their glass of wine, and Geneva just having refilled them and seeming like she was enjoying the companionship, decided to push the ‘envelope’.

“Susan and I were lovers, Geneva. We are still friends. She has actually moved in with a woman, Beth Gulliver. So she asked if I could be her eyes on Hailey.” Nicole paused and sipped wine, as if she had just advised on stock options. Geneva sat in stunned silence. Nicole moved a little closer and spoke quietly. “It’s okay. I won’t bite. It’s nice, just talking, girl-to-girl, isn’t it?”

Geneva was slightly flustered, and smoothed her hair in a gesture she had. “Um, I guess that is all, uh, very surprising to me. I didn’t know you, um….”

“Liked women?” Nicole added.

Geneva laughed self-consciously and drank some wine; looked at Nicole and then looked away. Nicole continued, “I find that women understand other women in a way that men can’t. I have nothing against men; I’ve had male friends, but I just feel more comfortable with another woman. That’s the way it is. I, um, feel very comfortable with you, Geneva.” As she said this, Nicole brushed a finger along Geneva’s arm, causing the woman to flinch slightly, but she did not move away or object.

Nicole continued. “Be honest with me, Geneva, your sex

life with Peter isn’t much, is it? And you can’t really discuss it with anyone, can you?”

Geneva reddened and stuttered, “I, um, I don’t think that is something we should be speaking of….”

“Why?” Nicole asked, moving a little closer; her knee was now touching Geneva’s.

“Well, um we don’t really know each other….”

“But we do, Geneva. We know each other better than you know. Now humor me; is your sex with your husband fulfilling?”

Geneva gave a little snort, drank more wine and said, quietly, almost with relief, “We haven’t, um, made love in months. Peter is busy….”

Nicole brushed Geneva’s arm again and leaned in to speak quietly near her delicate ear, one that was adorned with two gold rings. “No excuses, Geneva. Peter has never been a good lover, you have gotten by, you have a wonderful home and have raised two children, but emotionally you are empty. You would love to have someone hold you and caress you, wouldn’t you?”

Geneva looked sad for a moment, as she nodded her head. Then Nicole kissed her gently on her neck and then the side of her face. Geneva closed her eyes, her breathing became more rapid. Nicole kissed the delicate ear again and Geneva sighed lightly. Nicole turned Geneva’s face and licked the woman’s lips; once, twice until Geneva followed, trying for a kiss; and then Nicole took the woman’s mouth with her own. They leaned back against the love seat, mouths working, Geneva’s hand was on Nicole’s arm.

“Do you like this, Geneva?” Nicole ran her tongue along Geneva’s throat and attacked the mouth once again, releasing her prey to speak.

“Ummmmmm. Oh, y-yes, uhhh-mmmm. Oh yes, yes I do.”

(End of Chapter 11)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 10 And So It Is, Your Past Remembers You

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 10 And So It Is, Your Past Remembers You 

Amara was looking through her files again, finally finding the number for a certain Mossad agent, still based in Israel.

Considering for a moment, she called the number, feeling some excitement building. Amara had developed excellent emotional control over the years; it was hard to tell what was happening with her, unless she wanted you to know, and she put that skill to work now. She needed to be calm.

She lit the slim joint she had been saving and inhaled deeply as the cell phone rang; once, twice, three times, “Gilad”, the deep voice answered.

“Amara,” came the reply. There was a long pause.

“It has been…a while.” The voice continued.

“It has. But now I have a reason to call. It involves our…friend, Louis Doukas.” Another pause.

“And I am interested in a shady Greek/Brit/American businessman, because…?”

Amara chuckled, “Well, mostly it’s his connections with your other, friends. You know the ones, with the black boots and the generous attitude toward others.”

Pause. “And how would our buddies, the Nazis, be connected to Mr. Doukas?” Gilad spoke quietly, but there was an edge now in his voice.

Amara took another drag on her joint, letting the smoke escape slowly. “Hmmm, it’s their interest in art; others’ art, of course.”

Gilad was now alert, “You think Doukas might be connected to looted World War II art works?”

Amara spoke evenly, keeping the emotion out of her voice, “I don’t think; I know, and I’m close to confirming that at least two paintings he is dealing are from Jewish artists. I will know today.”

“How is Doukas able to do this?” Gilad was part of a group that had been chasing stolen Jewish art for years. But the practice was steeped in deception and handled very cautiously.

“Doukas is very connected, Gilad; better than you can imagine. This is such a lucrative business as you know, money counts. Doukas has always known how to use money, and he is not a person who leaves loose ends.”

“So, how are you aware of this?” Gilad had reason for some skepticism. He had chased leads for many years; most ended nowhere.

Amara took in some more of her joint, then continued. “He mentioned, matter-of-factly several years ago about paintings; I think he had had one too many vodkas and let it slip. Not characteristic of him. He never said another thing, ever, around me; but I got the distinct impression he knew where stuff was, hidden. I think he has begun to liquidate it.”

“Hmmmmm, why now I wonder.” Gilad took a deep breath, lighting his own cigarette. “I wish you would share some of what you are smoking with me,” he chuckled, “but I’ll accept your information for now.”

“Later.” Amara smiled and butted out her joint as she turned off her phone. The smile remained on her face. Maybe, finally, something was happening.


“Ohhhhhhh. Fuuuuuck. Ummmmmm. Fucking fuck fuck!” Hailey moaned; her eyes closed; her wrists and ankles bound to the four corners of Alexis’s bed.

Alexis ran a warm tongue along the side of Hailey’s face, gently biting her ear lobe. “My Slut-slave earned her reward.” Alexis murmured.

Hailey had experienced orgasms before, when masturbating. But the one she had just ridden out, courtesy of Alexis’s fingers and tongue, was different. Like a bomb is different from a firecracker.

“Ohhhhhhh…” Hailey just lay still; her eyes closed,

letting the after-effects of her big ‘O’ take her away. It had been a busy afternoon.

After Hailey had dutifully performed on the black girls taking one to climax, (the other just nodded and said she was good) the two girls had ambled off, leaving Alexis and Hailey, both very aroused.

Alexis made the hard decision to bring Hailey home, to her own bed, where for the last hour they had feverishly explored each other; culminating in Alexis tying Hailey down and bringing her to climax.

“Do you want to be my slave?” Alexis smiled down into Hailey’s face.

Hailey opened her eyes and said, “Sure”, although she wasn’t really certain what that meant; but saying it made her feel good. Her smile then spread across her young, attractive face. She felt a warm glow begin somewhere deep within her and spread, right up to her hair follicles. Alexis unbound her and they embraced and lay quietly.


Daphne Powell stood at the door of Doukas’s hotel room; she had no belongings, not even a suitcase. “I’ll get some stuff at the airport.” She said, with a smile.

Doukas stood, looking thoughtfully at this woman, the first woman he had actually…fucked, in quite a while. “Here.” He said, holding out a flash drive.

“What is this?” Daphne asked.

“All the photos of you.” Doukas said simply. Daphne leaned in and embraced him.

“I know you are…a bad man. Probably a very bad man, but I hope we meet again”, she whispered. She straightened up and looked at him.

“Perhaps one day“, Louis Doukas smiled, and today it was a smile that reached his eyes.


Wednesday morning Nicole, busy with some tedious and

complicated court proceeding notes, was surprised when a voice said, “My, aren’t we busy,” and looked up into the smiling face of Susan.

“Hey, look at you, creeping up on people. Well, you’ve caught me hard at work,” Nicole laughed. “What is it?”

“Here.” Susan handed Nicole a check; it was for thirty thousand dollars, made out to cash.

“What is this for?” Nicole stared first at the check and then at Susan.

“For you.” Susan said simply.

“Oh, no. No, no Susan. I can’t accept this. No way.”


“Well, um, it’s not right, it’s….”

Susan touched Nicole’s hand. “Hey, look, Roland had a large insurance policy I knew nothing about. I have paid off our mortgage. Our house is worth one point eight million. I make five times a year what you make and you can use this money. Why can’t I help someone I…care for, very much.”

Nicole looked up, a lump developing in her throat. She didn’t like to be beholding to people and this had gotten to her. “But it’s not….”

“No buts, my junior employee. Take this and clear off what’s left on your cards and remember, I am always here for you.”

The two women looked at each other for a moment, and then Susan turned and walked away. She felt great.

**** ****


Susan, or ‘My Pet’ as her mistress now called her, lay the sleep wear on the bed and knelt, waiting. In a few moments, Mistress Beth came in and ran her hand gently over her slave. “Very good, my pet.” She said, and began undressing. When she was naked, she picked up the leash attached to her slave’s collar and led her over to a chair, sitting down and spreading her legs. “My pet has earned her reward”, Beth murmured and Susan needed no more encouragement to move in and begin to lick and suck the pink and brown folds of her mistress’s labia.

It had been three weeks now since Susan had moved in with Beth. It had been a very active month, slave-wise, for both Susan and Hailey.

After discussions, Nicole had moved into Chestnut Hill to look after Hailey and the house. It was also agreed that Alexis could move some clothes, etcetera in as well, as she was now spending most of her nights there.

Susan had then been able to move most of her clothes over to Beth’s. This followed a major decision after much discussion, where Susan had approached her partners with a proposal, and at the end of August they had given her a handsome settlement. On September first, Susan had left the firm.

Beth was a very successful business woman and well off, and she liked the idea of Susan belonging to her full time with no need to consider or work around schedules, and with Susan’s move in, it all made sense. They had also agreed that some of the…activities, Beth wanted to do to Susan, public scenes mostly, could not happen as long as Susan was a lawyer with a prestigious firm.

So this worked out well for everyone, and Beth was now planning a holiday in Italy with her slave. A month of sun and travel, and a loving mouth on her pussy every night. Between now and when they left there were a couple of ‘events’ planned to keep things…interesting.

Alexis and Hailey, now just turned eighteen, had also evolved into a mistress/slave routine that Nicole allowed; as long as Hailey kept her grades up; this being her graduation year. If the first reporting period showed any issues, Alexis would be out.

And Nicole had made it clear, despite Hailey’s advances and her now being eighteen, there would be no sexual contact between the two of them (for now anyway, Nicole promised herself; why exactly she was delaying this she

couldn’t say; maybe she just wasn’t ‘ready’. Who knows with feelings? Certainly not Nicole.)

And Nicole was clear that all the mistress/slave ‘stuff’ was to be done away from her eyes; she was not to witness anything, although Hailey could come to her to discuss, well, things.

And then there was Tatjana. Even with Amara’s best efforts, they had not been able to figure out Doukas’s plan for the lovely girl. For now, Doukas had allowed Tatjana to stay with Nicole; she was actually living with them in Chestnut Hill. Nicole had also made it clear to Alexis and Hailey that Tatjana was not part of anything sexual, either as participant or observer. Nothing.

Nicole had come to believe that the young woman had some sort of mental condition; perhaps someday she would discover what that was. What she knew was that the girl acted like she was very young in many ways, like an eight or nine-year-old, and for whatever reason, Nicole was very protective of her.

Doukas was away a lot these days and seemed to be involved with something. Amara knew much, but was reluctant to share the information with Nicole, fearing for her safety. It was one thing to involve someone like Gilad who could look after himself, but Nicole would be kept safe, whatever.

If Doukas ever came to fear any sort of treason or threat, there would be consequences. Amara knew what the man was capable of.


“I wish I could see you,” Nicole murmured into the phone. It was late in Philly which meant it was early over in Europe, whichever country Amara happened to be in. It was Romania (Doukas was there as well it turned out; Sheffield, Amara believed, was in London) at the moment. Amara continued to work diligently for Doukas so as to not arouse any suspicion.

This week she was securing several boxes of rifles

stolen from a Russian arms dealer and being sold to someone in Somalia. Like Sheffield, Amara could not understand why Doukas took these risks. The last chance she had, a few days ago actually, to secretly look over some of Doukas’s finances, she was astounded to see his wealth now between three hundred and four hundred million American dollars. Why he did this petty, risky stuff, who knew; it obviously wasn’t for the money.

“So, what is Doukas up to?” Nicole asked quietly.

“Nothing good,” Amara replied, lighting a joint and evading the answer.

“Hmmmm.” Nicole murmured into her phone. “You see things, c’mon Am, give me at least a taste.”

Amara chuckled, “If I had you here, I would make you work for the info”, she purred.

Feeling somewhat horny; with no real outlet these last few weeks Nicole had relied solely on self-stimulation, which gets old in a hurry; Nicole felt a strong twinge at Amara’s remark. “You wouldn’t need to ask, tall, dark and beautiful. I’d be on my knees in a flash.”

As she said this, with a bit of a chuckle in her voice, Nicole’s hand snaked its way under her black, lace thongs. As she expected, she was moist. “You know I’m wet, just talking with you.”

Amara sighed, “Oh fuck, Nicole, stop that. You just want to drive me insane.”

“But I’m being honest. I have a finger in my pussy and I’m wet as Hell. If you jumped on a plane, how fast could you get here?” Nicole laughed, but her finger was busy.

“Not fast enough, I’m afraid.” Amara finished her joint and decided to give Nicole something. “Doukas is involved in pretty much anything going. Women, drugs, gambling, guns, stolen artifacts….”

“Artifacts? What, like paintings and stuff?”

“Yeah; paintings, sculpture, prints, coins, you name it.”

“But I thought you said Doukas has lots of dough?” Nicole added.

“He does, trust me. He doesn’t need this. It’s crazy really. I think it’s the thrill or something. I think he likes meeting in dark bars with shady people. I think he does like it. We’re meeting some guy today.”

“Where are you again?”

“Romania. Craiova.”

“Hmmmmmm,” Nicole sighed as her finger found a sweet spot.


As Hailey carefully shaved the small hairs on the inside of her upper thighs, Alexis moved her phone in for a close-up. “You promised, you will not show my face.” Hailey reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve been over that. No face. Lift your leg higher, that’s it. Ok, that’s how I want it; I want you totally shaved, like a little girl, right?”

“Yes, Mistress Alix,” Hailey responded dutifully.

As the days passed, it seemed Alexis was becoming more demanding of her slave. She was talking of renting her out, which Hailey thought was just something to turn them both on, but it sounded more like she was really looking into it, and that scared her. Alexis had also talked about wanting more than one slave. Hailey wasn’t sure how that would work.

“Okay”, Alexis interrupted Hailey’s thoughts. “Lie on the bed and use the electric toothbrush on your pussy. Oh, yeah, like that….” She murmured as Hailey lightly moved the vibrating bristles along her outer pussy lips. Hailey noticed Alexis’s phone camera recording higher up her body. As if guessing what she was thinking, Alexis added, “I’m just recording your great tits. They are too good to keep hidden, Hailey-bitch.”

Alexis then opened her little bag, “Keep that brush going, Slave, pull your lip back so we can see some pink, and run the head along the edge of your fat lip. There, yes, just like that. Oh, fuck that is good.” Alexis put the phone down for a moment and attached her new thing; nipple clips, to Hailey’s stubby pink nipples. “Ok, ok, keep moving that thing along, now tug on your clips, pull your nipples out. Yeah, yeah.”

Hailey was becoming aroused, but somewhere in the back of her mind a little nugget of concern was growing. Hailey pushed it down, for now.


Doukas was sitting on a metal chair in the back room of a bar and restaurant, in central Craiova. The room was dimly lit and appeared to be used for card games and such. A door on one side led to a smaller room that held three metal cots. The door on the other side led out. That door opened now and four girls trooped in one after the other, followed by Amara.

Like Doukas, Amara had an ear for languages and spoke something in Serbian to the girls (all four were Serbs) who while hesitating briefly and with fear in their eyes, began to undress. When the girls, all olive skinned with dark hair, were naked, Amara had them kneel with their hands behind their backs.

Amara looked at Doukas, “eighteen, nineteen, nineteen and twenty,” she said, going down the line.

Good thing she knows, Doukas thought, they all look the same to me; young.

Doukas observed the girls like a cattle buyer at an auction. One nineteen-year-old had heavier breasts, likely thirty-eight C; the others had small, perky breasts on slim frames. There was not an ounce of fat on any of these girls; Amara had her own ideas on why that was.

Doukas pointed to the girl with the larger breasts and said to Amara; “Have this one dress and take her out the side, give her to Tony. The others, keep them here, naked. Um, and see how they make out with each other. I’ll just be in the bar and back in a few minutes.”

Amara watched the back of the departing Doukas,

thinking how easily it would be to put a bullet or a knife in it; but then she’d be done too, so that wasn’t really worth it.

She turned to the girls and told the designated one to dress; she didn’t have much in the way of clothes so in a moment Amara was taking her as directed. When she returned the remaining three were kneeling exactly as she left them. She had them then kiss each other, demanding “more tongue”, then had them suck each other’s breasts. No one seemed bothered and they were all cooperative.

They all had apparently learned how to survive.


In the restroom of a stylish restaurant in Paris, a distinguished looking man, mid-fifties, was standing at a urinal, focused on the…job at hand. When a second man, also distinguished, slightly younger came in and occupied the adjacent urinal; the first man stared straight ahead.

The second man spoke, “Is Carstairs in?”

After a moment, the man began. “Damn, that was tough to finally speak with her. Of course she is scared spit-less, but she is in agreement. We need Doukas out.”

“Good. I am having a chat with Gryba tomorrow; same thing, damn awkward connecting.”

“We’re dead if he finds out, you know.” The second man just grunted as the first flushed, washed his hands and left. No one needed to tell them what happened to people who crossed Louis Doukas.


The bar was rustic and, in an odd way, cozy. The building itself had been built in the nineteenth century and although updated at various times over the decades, the place had a distinct old-world feel (and smell, Amara thought) and the uneven floor meant your table wobbled. For tonight, there was a fire in the ancient stone fireplace.

Doukas walked to one of those wobbly tables, this one in one corner where an elderly man sat nursing a beer. The man looked up at Doukas with bushy eyebrows and a bald head fringed with pure white hair. “Anton”, Doukas said to the man.

Anton Sabău smiled a crooked smile, showing most of the nine teeth he still possessed, and spoke in Greek, “Louis Doukas, you old son of a bitch.”

The remainder of the conversation was in Greek, Sabău knowing it and his native Romanian, but Greek was what worked best for these two. Sabău had spent many years in Greece, which was how he had met Doukas, although Sabău had been a teen and Doukas a toddler.

“Thank you for what you did for Fabio.” The older man said gruffly, referring to Doukas finding a way to get Sabău’s grandson out of a Syrian refugee camp and home.

“Friends help friends,” Doukas said smoothly as his vodka arrived. The two men toasted and then Doukas began. “I am hearing stories, my old friend. Very interesting stories.” Doukas downed one shot glass and looked across the table; the old man raised his massive eyebrows, which looked like it would take an effort, and then Doukas continued. “Stories about my long time interest, lost art, courtesy of our friends, the Nazis.”

Sabău now looked a little uncomfortable, but he was aware that Doukas was one of a handful of people who knew of his…special interests.

“You need to be more specific, old friend. There are many stories told of my endeavours, and many stories of our old…friends (here he spat on the ancient floor). But I am listening, as I owe you a debt.”

Doukas poured himself another shot and went on to talk about Jakub Hildermann, a Jew living in Poland before the outbreak of the Great War. He was a sculptor of stone, and had, according to Doukas and legend, produced three images of Christ; a trilogy as it was called, which had disappeared.

Had Anton heard of such a thing?

Anton sat for a long while, before pulling an ancient bag of tobacco out of a pocket and placing a paper on the table; he slowly and carefully rolled a cigarette (in this place smoking was still allowed, no matter the century). When he placed the thin cigarette between his reedy, pale lips, Doukas held the candle from their table to it, watching the end catch fire, inhaling in the fragrance and the smoke.

“I may have heard such a story.” Anton finally allowed.

“I think more than that, my friend.” Doukas smiled, watching the man. “And, as well as your debt, I also have a gift, as a thank you for your, information. And of course, there will be your fee.

Anton smiled. “A gift?”

“Oh yes.” Doukas knew very well Sabău’s infatuation with girls, the younger the better; even at seventy-four, the old man desired them; and they were getting harder to come by.

“You have, such a gift here?”

“Oh, yes, in the back room. She is yours to take home tonight. She is Serbian; there is no paper or record. It is perfect. But first, I need what you know; all you know.”

So in his turn, Sabău recounted working several years, many years ago, for a wealthy man in Rome; a man with splendid gardens that hardly anyone saw. But Sabău had spent many hours in those gardens, working for the man, and being fascinated by three works of stone that were compelling; he would not have considered them religious, but it appeared they were.

Years later, when Sabău was reading an article, he read a description of three Images of Christ by a sculptor named Hildermann, and Sabău knew they were the same. In investigating, he had found where the works had gone following the death of the Italian.

And those works had been in a barn in the south of

Poland for all these years.

“And they are still there? You know this?”

“Oh, yes, my friend. I know this.”

Doukas finished his second glass. “And how can you still be certain, my old friend, after all these years?”

Anton Sabău smiled that crooked smile. “I know, because it was I who put them there. It is my farm; or at least it is now. It wasn’t always, but that is a different story.”

“But you must know what they would fetch in a bid?” Doukas asked.

“Fifteen million American dollars for the three; less if divided.” Sabău said without emotion.

“And yet you let them sit, in a barn, unknown. Why?”

Sabău finished his beer, and Doukas signaled the host. “I have never needed the money. And I liked having them; there, to myself.”

“But you would rather have a sweet, young girl for your pleasure, and a nice commission now.” Doukas murmured.

The old man looked with his droopy eyes at Doukas, for a long moment. “I don’t imagine you will give me much choice, my old…friend.”

Doukas smiled, pouring himself a little more vodka; it wasn’t as good as his stock, but it was decent.


(End of Chapter 10)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 9 Being Your Slave, What Shall I Do But Tend

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 09 Being Your Slave, What Shall I Do But Tend 

Sheffield placed the coffee to Doukas’s right, on the stylish end table. Their hotel rooms were top quality; Doukas insisted, nothing less than five star. And the coffee needed to be excellent.

Sheffield did not care about the coffee but she did care about what Doukas thought. She watched as Doukas sipped the dark, aromatic liquid and smiled. Good, she thought. “Kane is set, sir,” she began, “the two paintings are ready: I will be taking them to her today. You, um, you are sure you don’t want to handle this yourself?”

Doukas looked up at his always efficient assistant, how long had she been with him, it had to be at least twenty years, and marveled once again at the dedication. Sheffield did not have her own life; his life was her life. Amazing. “No, my dear Sheffield, you will deal with the helpful Ms. Kane, I am still involved with a deal or two.”

Doukas’s involvement was with a man who was being particularly difficult; Doukas believed the two had a deal on a certain piece of art, but now there were questions. Well, Doukas would handle this, in his way. “Who’s looking after things in Philly?” he asked.

Sheffield paused in the straining of her tea leaves, “Thomas. Everything is good. Martin has given us another name just yesterday….”

“She has been…helpful.” Doukas murmured. “And it seems she is getting her, issue, under control.”

“Yes, that is true sir. Will we still have leverage on her?”

“She has helped us, hasn’t she, Ms. Sheffield? But how, exactly? There are a couple of laws she has broken right there. No, let her clear up her debt; that is not a problem. I still own her ass.”

Sheffield smiled. “As you say, sir.”


Amara moved her ‘note cards’ around, putting them in an order. She had spent several hours gathering info and now had twelve cards that she needed to make sense of.

As she had related to Nicole, she had played her part with Doukas perfectly over the years but had never forgiven him. Quite simply, she wanted him dead, one way or another and it didn’t need to be by her hand; but that was far easier said than done.

Because Doukas had made it his practice, after the first couple of years when he had to take chances, to remain in the shadows, generally having others commit the deeds or be on ‘the front line’; many people were not even aware that it was he who was responsible for their suffering. Yes, he had killed people, nine that Amara knew of, but it was always secretly and with no witnesses and no mess.

Although Dionysus had rivals and competitors, some harsh, Doukas incredibly had few real enemies personally. There were countless people who he had manipulated, controlled, used, abused and destroyed over the years, but the victims were either too weak to hurt him or unaware of who he was. Doukas always planned and picked his spots perfectly.

Amara had waited, patiently; very, very patiently, as the years went by, maintaining files of allies and enemies; allies that she could trust (her list numbered four) and enemies of Doukas, who could actually do something (and that list was three). Today she felt sure she could add one more name to the enemy list.

It could potentially be the most deadly so far.


The taxi pulled up to the corner in a seedier part of London, the driver looking back and asking, “you shure, guv’na?”

“Fine, my good fellow. I won’t be getting out here.”

Doukas opened the door and a man stepped out from the shadow of a wall and came to the taxi; handed Doukas a large envelope, received a smaller envelope in return; touched the brim of his hat; said “G’day, sir,” and left.

Doukas then gave the driver another address and took out the photos from the large envelope. They showed an attractive woman in her early forties in various sexual poses with a much younger man. This was the wife of the man who was proving difficult. Doukas put the photos back and sat back against the seat, a thin smile on his face.


“So, your date was…good?” Nicole asked, a smirk on her pretty face.

Susan smiled too. They were sitting in a booth in another cozy bar, the kind they both preferred. Not too raucous or filled with noisy drunks. “It was very good, my mistress.”

Ten minutes later, Nicole put down her empty wine glass and murmured, “That is a good story, Sweet Sue; very good. I am a little jealous, actually, but it is my own fault. If you ‘can’t get it up’ you can’t complain, right?” She smiled across the table at Susan, who sat, a little flushed and definitely aroused by her (very detailed, Nicole demanded it) narration of the previous night’s encounter with Beth.

“And this ‘Beth’ definitely wants to see you again.”

Susan paused. What was in Nicole’s mind? “Yes, definitely. She um, well, she wants me as…a slave.”

Nicole looked across the table into the eyes of her submissive. “And what do you want, sweet Suse?”

“I, um, I want to serve you, Miss N. That’s what I want; but if not that, then I want to be with someone. You’ve, um…my mistress, has unlocked a door for me and shown me, myself. I have been in denial and unhappy for, well, years I guess. But I know now what makes me tick. So, yes, I want this, if I can’t be with you.”

Nicole paused, pondering, Amara drifting though her mind. She could work with this; she had options. Without wishing it, Doukas next came to mind. He might be a snake, Nicole thought, but he was right about the need to have options. Nicole smiled across at Susan. “Well, my sweet pussy slave, I think we can work out a suitable arrangement.” She signalled the server; she wanted more wine.


Hailey and Alexis were walking along the edge of a park. Chestnut Hill had a lot of areas like this, some with fairly heavy tree growth, like a little forest. Hailey had been dressed by Mistress Alix; she wore a thin T-shirt and shorts with no underwear at all. She did have socks and sneakers on. As they walked, Alexis slid her hand down inside the back of Hailey’s shorts, Hailey finding it hard to walk with this…activity happening.

“My slave likes this, does she?” Alexis whispered up into Hailey’s ear.

Hailey laughed; she did like it. She had been imagining all day what Alexis would do with her after she got off work; she had just the four-hour shift today.

They stopped. They had reached a junction of two trails; here they were in a less-travelled part of the park, near the edge, but there was still foot traffic, although they had not seen anyone on this path so far.

“Lift up your shirt and stand like that,” Alexis directed, and Hailey lifted her shirt and let her lovely, heavy breasts emerge. Alexis tweaked the small, pink nipples, sucking on one and producing a mark. “That shows you are mine,” she added, before sucking the other breast.

“Look,” Hailey announced and Alexis stood to see two girls coming along, still far enough away that they hadn’t noticed anything.

“Put your shirt down, for now, but just stand there.”

The two girls continued on and were now approaching

them. Both girls were black, around the same age as Hailey and Alexis, maybe a little younger; both were taller than Alexis but shorter than Hailey.

“Yo there, Bitches.” Alexis called out.

“Who you callin’, bitch, Bitch?” The first girl asked, and Alexis laughed to break the tension. She was here for lovin’, not fightin’.

“Easy ladies. Chill. It’s just that I have a bitch-ho here that I need some help with.”

The two girls stopped and looked Hailey up and down and then looked at Alexis, who continued. “She lost a bet and has to do what I say this afternoon and I think she should do some nasty shit, don’t you think?”

“Damn girl, we look like a coupla’ Judy Garland’s to yo’ white mutha’s face?”

“True dat,” the second girl added, folding her arms.

“No, not at all. This is just fun and games, doin’ some nasty to my ho’.”

The black girls exchanged a glance and smiles broke out across their faces. “Hmmm, I like nasty; whatcha thinkin’?” One girl asked; the other stood and watched.

“Well, I’d like to see my bitch here eat some black pussy; does that sound cool. A white bitch on her knees for you.”

The two black girls guffawed out loud and shoved each other, the first girl saying. “No shit?”

Alexis smiled, “No shit. There’s a little quiet spot over there.” She started toward the spot, a little clearing with a small metal bench and good tree coverage; Hailey followed along, her mind going a thousand miles an hour.

“Strip, Slut.” Alexis commanded when they halted, and Hailey removed her shirt and shorts and stood, self-conscious and naked save for her socks and shoes; and also tremendously aroused. “Ok, who wants to use the slave first?” Alexis asked.

There was a pause, as both black girls looked at each other and guffawed some more, before the first girl said, “Shit, I want sum o’ ‘dat white-bitch mouth on my black ass. C’mere Ho.”

The girl hauled Hailey over to the bench before pulling down her jogging pants and thong, revealing a round, brown ass. She knelt down in front of the bench with her ass facing Hailey. “Ok, Bitch, get your white face down there,” she said, sporting a huge grin.

Hailey hesitated for a moment, before leaning forward.


Sheffield was waiting in the area Rosalind Kane used for her business; Kane expressing surprise (and some relief) to see it wasn’t Doukas this time. Sheffield had the two paintings with her; neither was overly large and she placed them on the floor against her legs. In a moment, Kane came bustling in and held out her hand, “Rosalind Kane”, she stated with a flourish.

Sheffield regarded the hand without expression and then looked into the brown face. “I know who you are, Ms. Kane”, she said, and Kane slowly lowered her arm.

“Righty then, I see you have the…objects.” Kane remarked and moved to stand in front of her large and cluttered desk. “May I see them, please.” She smiled a strained smile; this woman was making her uncomfortable.

Sheffield held her gaze before reaching down and lifting up both paintings to her lap. “Of course, Ms. Kane, but first things first.” Kane stared at her, unsure of what she meant. “I think you have forgotten to remove your clothes.”

Kane opened her mouth, then closed it, looking a little like a fish. Sheffield allowed a small smile to crease her stern features. “It’s not really all that complicated Ms. Kane. You begin by unbuttoning your blouse, then move on to your slacks. The thing follows nicely in order, but first you must begin. Start with the blouse.”

“But I thought….” Kane began.

“That because Mr. Doukas wasn’t here the rules changed? No, Ms. Kane, although you won’t have to suck my cock, since I do not possess one. But you will get naked, or I will leave and your large commission will leave with me. How’s that?”

Kane stood for a moment longer and then, sort of in a daze, began to undress, still uncomfortable under Sheffield’s scrutiny.


Doukas had the taxi stop before a row of fashionable three-story houses in one of the trendier districts of London. “Kindly return in one hour,” Doukas murmured, handing the cabbie some bills. As the taxi drove off, Doukas looked up at the house. If his sources were accurate, and they usually were, Mr. Powell was at his club and Mrs. Powell, the lady in the photographs, should be home.

After ringing the bell and waiting, Doukas was greeted by a middle-aged woman in a uniform of some sort. The woman was not inclined to let this ‘foreign-looking’ gent in, but Doukas pressed her to tell her madam that it concerned Nigel. In a moment the woman returned and let Doukas in, but clearly grudgingly.

Ushered into a parlor room furnished in expensive leather couches, Mrs. Powell stood regarding Doukas with suspicion and distaste. “This regards, Nigel? In what way? And who are you?” She asked in quick succession.

Doukas smiled and moved over, settling onto one of the white couches. “Please sit, Madam. You wouldn’t happen to have any vodka?”

Powell was clearly unnerved by the behavior she faced and became flustered. “I don’t see, um. Mr., eh….”

Doukas then removed the photos and held up one that showed Mrs. Powell, breasts with erect nipples prominent, as she sucked on a man’s cock. The man’s face could not be seen, but no doubt Mr. Powell would know the cock wasn’t his, even if he didn’t know who Nigel was.

Mrs. Powell (Daphne) stood open-mouthed. Doukas smiled. “There, that is how it concerns Nigel. It of course concerns you as well. Now, I believe you were going to offer me a drink.” Daphne Powell stood blinking like an owl at a flashlight, almost like her brain was refusing to accept what her eyes had revealed. “Mrs. Powell. Hello.” Doukas spoke a little louder and Powell shook her head and seemed to clear the fog.

“But, what is it you want?”

“Where are your manners, Daphne?” That seemed to get through, as Daphne buzzed for her maid, who arrived promptly, looking hopefully to usher out the intruder.

“Please bring us two vodkas, Margaret. Neat. Thank you.”

Margaret cast a dark look at Doukas but headed off; Powell standing and twisting her fingers together for the few moments it took. Margaret returned and placed the two glasses near Doukas and Powell, who at that moment were not even looking at one another. She left the bottle; perhaps she knew something.

After she bustled out, Doukas rose and closed the door, then stood beside Daphne Powell and handed her the glass. “Bottoms up, my girl.” Doukas downed his drink and Powell did the same, choking slightly and then straightening up. Doukas returned to the sofa and sat. Powell came and stood in front of him. “What do you want Mr….”

“Please call me Mr. Smith. That will work.” Doukas smiled and Powell snorted. “What I want is your cooperation.”

“You’re not here for money…” She stared at him.

Anthony Powell was a wealthy man, but Doukas was worth far more with all his holdings. “Your husband is wealthy, Mrs. Powell, which by the way is why he had you sign that pre-nuptial four years ago; but I do not need his money, at least not for blackmail. That is what you are thinking, yes?”

Powell looked away. Doukas could take her in now; a handsome woman, undoubtedly a stunner in her twenties but now beginning to fight age. Likely worked out though, to keep her fine shape; nice breasts, waist under control; nice ass. Doukas liked what he saw.

“Yes, Mr. um, Smith, that is what I thought when you flashed that photo. I take it you have, more?”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Powell. That was one of the quieter ones. The shots of Nigel fucking that lovely arse of yours are stunning and extremely clear. I think you, uh, came at one point. It was spectacular.”

Powell looked like she might throw up; or cry. She poured another drink and then looked at the unwelcome visitor, who nodded and she came and poured Doukas another shot.

“So if not blackmail, then what?” She looked him in the eyes, fear showing clearly in hers.

“Your husband has a painting by one Liebermann, a Jew, taken from a family around 1942 in Berlin. He was to sell it to me. Apparently, he promised it to you; but it seems you don’t really want it, do you?”

Powell laughed at the comment. “Actually, I don’t like it, how’s that? Anthony thinks certain things, impress me. They don’t. He brought that painting out all secretive and everything. I think he actually regretted promising it to me.” She gazed at Doukas; her attitude had softened slightly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Accept it from him and sell it to me.”

Powell snorted again. “I know it has, um, value. What are we talking?”

“I will give you four million pounds.”

She stared at him. “Four. Million? You are serious?”

“Oh, I am very serious.” Doukas of course had a buyer who would pay him nine million, but in money matters he

was always fair.

“That is, unbelievable.”

“I suppose. But it is true.”

Powell stood in thought. “I can get it and just bring it to you. But…”

“But how can you trust me?”

She nodded her head.

“I’m staying at the Stafford. Nothing will happen to you there. Get one of those artist’s canvas bags; that will conceal it.”

“And when Anthony finds out?”

“I have a perfect forgery that only an expert could disclose. Your husband will never know. Set up an account at this Swiss bank (he handed her a card); you can do it all by phone. I would transfer the funds into your account; the bank would verify; you would take the duplicate and return home. Done. And these (he held up the envelope) would stay our little secret.”

He stood and looked at her; she was trembling but certainly convinced. Doukas was not sure if she was more excited about the money or relieved at not being exposed as a whore. He reached forward and undid four buttons of Powell’s expensive white blouse without resistance; he then reached in, under the custom bra and squeezed one full breast, Powell standing with her eyes closed.

He withdrew his hand and she opened her eyes. “Let’s say tomorrow at three?”

She nodded her head. Doukas left.


After ringing the bell, Susan stood in anxious anticipation. What if she were just imagining things? What if this was a dead end too?

Then the door opened and Beth stood smiling at her, “This is a pleasant surprise. Come in. Come in. Here, let’s hang up your jacket.” That job completed, Susan followed Beth down the hall to her little entertaining- guests room. Beth sat on a chair and Susan on the adjacent couch. “So what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Is this Susan Koning or…Sweet Sue?” Beth’s eyes held a decided twinkle.

Susan slipped off the couch and knelt before the woman, her heart racing and her thoughts swirling, “It, um, it is definitely, Sweet Sue, Mistress Beth, if you would have me.” Susan looked up with a face full of need and submission. Beth reached out and touched the woman’s face.

“That is very good, Sweet Sue. I was hoping you would return to me.” They both smiled, then Beth waggled an index finger. “Well, what are you doing with all those clothes still on, come on.”

Both women smiled more broadly as Susan began discarding her garments.


Daphne Powell, the duplicate painting on its way to Margaret with instructions on its storage, now entered the last numbers of the code Doukas (she now knew his name) had given her and opened her new account. There was an amount limit in place, but she could see that one million pounds had been deposited and three more deposits of one million each were pending.

“There’s no way you can stop this happening?” Powell looked over at Doukas, who smiled; the smile was a little less thin than usual.

“No, I can’t; and I wouldn’t. I am not a liar and I am not a cheat, whatever else I may be.” Powell nodded; she believed him. She was sitting naked on a chair in Doukas’s hotel room.

Before transferring the money, Doukas had expected his usual female compliance. Powell was a little stubborn, in the end saying that if Doukas wanted her naked he would have to undress her; which he did. It was not an unfamiliar task to him.

When he had Powell naked he posed her so he could admire this forty-two-year-old woman, who clearly looked after herself. She had a wonderful, ‘womanly’ body and Doukas appreciated it.

Daphne also showed herself to be very skilled at oral sex; so much so, that Doukas was convinced she had likely been a ‘pro’ at some point in her life. She worked him perfectly and took his spunk without hesitation, looking up at him with a small smile (a grimace perhaps?) on her attractive face.

They had then completed the business part of things with the transfer of millions, and now were just sitting. Daphne then did an odd thing, at least as far as Doukas was concerned; she slid down to the floor and leaned against his legs, resting her head on his knee. Almost involuntarily, Doukas stroked the thick, brown/blonde hair. Daphne looked up at him, and Doukas, not sure why, asked her, “So, what will you do now?”

She smiled. “I’ve chatted with my counsel and will fly to Switzerland tomorrow; once I have all the banking looked after, my solicitor will serve Anthony with divorce papers. I’m not grinding him, I think he will agree. I’ll get the apartment in Notting Hill, but I plan on buying something else, some place warmer.”

They sat quietly for a moment before Daphne asked, in a voice Doukas found alluring, “Where do you live, Louis. May I call you Louis?”

A strange feeling now flooded through the man; it was so odd, hearing someone say his given name; how many years had it been? Thirty? Maybe more. He was lost in thought for a moment before he replied, surprisingly to himself, astoundingly to Sheffield, were she present.

“You may call me Louis; no one has for a long, long time.” He sat silently for another moment. “As for where I live, I own, mmmm, eleven houses.”

Daphne looked up at him, neither of them wondering why she was still naked. “You own eleven bloody houses? Where? Why? Who looks after them?”

Doukas laughed, “I may have to limit you to one question at a time, my lovely Ms. Powell….”

“Daphne, please. I’ve never referred to myself as Ms. Powell.”

Doukas looked down at her, thinking again what a handsome woman she was, he then listed off the countries and the properties. “And, of course, I have eleven housekeepers to look after my eleven houses.” He laughed and reached for the vodka; Daphne moved over and retrieved her glass.

“Yes please, this is good vodka.”

Doukas poured and murmured, “I have it sent from Shatska, in Russia. I like quality.”

Daphne looked at him as she sipped her vodka.

“You should drink, not sip.”

“Hush…Louis, I’ll sip if I want to.” She smiled at him and he laughed, she continued. “My flight leaves tomorrow at one, so I would need a room.” She paused and looked more pointedly at him; he raised his eyebrows. “Could I just stay…here?”

Doukas looked at the woman for a moment, before smiling and murmuring, “We will need to find you a toothbrush.”


(End of Chapter 9)