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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 18 If The Anticipated Question

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 18

If The Anticipated Question Does Not Come, Then What Of The Answer?

It wasn’t until today, Wednesday late afternoon, that Hannah was able to take a shot at getting into the Gilbertson’s house. She’d had to wrangle some favors and call in some IOU’s to, quietly, get a handle on any security systems or cameras on site.

As it turned out, the apparent surveillance at the house was not in use, the hardware basically for show. Gilbertson had terminated the contract months before but left the cameras, etcetera, up.

Hannah parked her car on a side street and made her way up the alley, five houses. She was happy that Gilbertson’s yard had a high rear fence and that the houses around it either had fences or trees. It was quiet with no sign of any neighbors or anyone. The back gate was unlocked and Hannah crossed the yard with her long strides, coming to the patio doors. The locking mechanism was simple and easily jimmied with the tools she had kept from her street days. In less than three minutes she was standing in the dining room, thinking of her youth when she did this sort of thing regularly.

Moving cautiously, she scouted through the house, main floor and upstairs. She noted the large armchair in the living room; that would work well. She noted ‘Dickhead’ had a land line and she jotted down the number. She looked on the calendar, then took one of his business cards from the pile on a desk in what was clearly his home office.

Satisfied with her search, she left, locking the patio doors from the inside and going out the back door. All remained quiet outside.

In five minutes, Hannah was driving down the road back to her motel; there was nothing more to accomplish now.

But in a while, that would be another story. She had already thought out her plan and she smiled thinking of Kyle Gilbertson, explaining to her how he had targeted and attacked young Courtney Farrell, all those years ago.

He would tell her everything; she was sure of that.


Danielle waited, feeling nervous and exposed. The guy she was supposed to meet was late and she was rattled. Suddenly a hooded figure came out of an alleyway and moved quickly to where she was standing in the shadow of a dumpster. “Got the cash?” the man grunted.

Danielle nodded her head and gave the man the envelope containing two hundred dollars. He gave her a bag and then was gone, just like that. Inside the bag was a Glock, just like the one she had been practising with, and twenty bullets.

She stuffed the envelope into a pocket and headed quickly down the street, certain every eye on the block was watching her.


Courtney lay against her mistress, who had returned this morning; this was their first chance to be together. “Miss me, Slave?” Hannah murmured.

Courtney snuggled her face into the warmth of Hannah’s throat, kissing it. “I missed being with you; I missed this, lying against your body.” Courtney replied honestly.

“You didn’t miss my paddle?” Hannah chuckled.

Courtney snuffed. “Ummmm, Miss Gena is very, em, generous with her paddle,” Courtney said quietly. Hannah laughed at this; she had already spoken with Gena and knew how things had gone. Then Courtney continued, “Will you share what you were doing? Did you learn any more about…him?”

“His name is Kyle Gilbertson, say it.” Hannah commanded.

“Kyle Gilbertson,” Courtney repeated softly.

Hannah gently stroked her slave’s face. “What I’m doing there is best left with me. I will share, um, whatever happens, but I’m good with the trip; how it went. It did what I wanted. For now, sweet slave, you need to stop thinking about that or him, got it, and concentrate on me? Pleasing me is your purpose in life, at least for this month. Yes?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Right,” Hannah said, flipping Courtney onto her back and pressing down on her pelvis, mashing their pubes together, sucking hard first on one rigid nipple then the other. “What do you need, Slave?” Hannah purred into one delicate ear.

“Mmmmm, oh God, I need you Mistress, mmmmm. Ooooooohhhh…”

Hannah chuckled and licked the side of Courtney’s face, kissing her eyes and then sucking on her lips. “Miss Gena used the double on you, right?”

“Ummmm, yes, Mistress,” Courtney moaned, grinding herself against Hannah’s shaved patch of hair and wrapping her legs around the slim, muscular body.

“Because you’re a fucking slut, right? Say it…”

Courtney moaned, “Mmmmm, ahhhh fuck, I’m a fucking slut, Mistress…”

Hannah smiled; this was coming together so beautifully, even she was amazed. “What do you want me to do, tell me,” Hannah urged.

And as if she’d been saying it all her life, Courtney welded her now sweating body against the other, moaning, “Please fuck me, Mistress, please, mmmmmm. Please!” Now that it had happened, being entered, Courtney could not lie to herself; she wanted Hannah inside her. She wanted it every day; she definitely wanted it right now.

Hannah paused and propped herself on her elbows, wondering just how far she could push this woman. “Go to the drawer and get my harness; bring the black dildo,” she said, smiling down.

“Yes, Mistress,” Courtney said quietly, sliding out from under the taller woman and hurrying to the chest of drawers.


Denise had the signed documents couriered to Kyle’s dealership office; she didn’t want to see the man, ever again, really. Against her lawyer’s advice, she had signed off, accepting a lump sum payment for everything. She just wanted to be rid of him. But would she ever be? He had only leered at her when she asked about the videos, etcetera.

Among her dark thoughts that involved hit men and even herself, pushing him down the stairs or running him over with her car were the only logical ways she could imagine dealing with him; handguns terrified her. She had considered some way to set him up, with drugs or hookers, but in the end all of it was just wishful thinking; he would likely haunt her for years. She should just move away.

Far, far away; Thailand perhaps. Or Mars.


“Hello, Courtney,” Marcie Woodhouse answered, recognizing the number.

“Hi, um, Marcie, there’s someone I’d like you to talk to.” And with that, Courtney passed the cell to Hannah, who then spent several minutes talking with the agent about some ideas concerning the model. These centered around photo spreads on BDSM sites and publications. Hannah herself was interested in being included in the shots.

In the end, a cautious but curious Woodhouse invited Courtney and ‘her friend’ in for a meeting. Woodhouse was definitely interested in coming face to face with this Hannah; she sounded worth the time. A quick series of texts with Gena then convinced her beyond doubt, and definitely heightened her interest.   


Danielle stayed on her knees as instructed, allowing Jason to spew his cum on her face. After he was finished, he sat back in his chair and laughed softly, then he got up and made his way to the bathroom.

Quickly, Danielle darted to the extra set of keys hanging by the door and removed the key she knew was for the back door. She stuffed it into her jeans, lying on the floor beside her, and resumed her kneeling position.

After another minute or so, Jason returned, going first to the fridge for a beer, then slumping back into his chair. He regarded the kneeling figure; he’d enjoyed using this woman, he’d enjoyed abusing girls since as far back as he could remember; it was what had forged the bond between Kyle and him.

But now he was beginning to think of other possibilities; like making some cash by renting her out. Certainly, sex with her was nothing great; she let him do things, as she had no choice and that was kind of fun, but was already getting a little old. “Okay Slut, go clean your fucking face, you look disgusting,” he sneered.

“Yes, Sir,” Danielle said quietly, moving to the bathroom and washing. She returned and stood awaiting further commands.

After a few minutes, Jason mumbled, “Okay, take off. I’m done with you today, but I’ll see you Thursday night. Be here at seven or I’ll whip your ass.”

“Yes, Sir,” Danielle replied, pulling on her clothes and heading for the door praying, to whoever might be listening, to make sure the man did not notice the missing key.


“So, your family gets back…tomorrow?” Gena asked, looking at the July calendar, her slave kneeling at her feet. “Wow, time flies.”

“Yes, Mistress, the fifteenth; it’s exciting and distressing.”

Gena nodded, “So, you ready for this, Bitch ? You’re going to need to do some juggling?”

Slave-Julie knew this to be true, but the sale of her company assets and departure from the business had made her bank account four hundred and forty thousand dollars healthier and removed one major commitment, making her life simpler; the only brief moment of remorse came when she had said good-bye to Tina, thankful she had kept the woman out of the whole scene.

Working her family into the situation, especially before the kids were back at school, would be a challenge, but she was determined to make it work, just as she was determined to make the new arrangements with Mistress Claire work.

She and Chris had agreed, in a very awkward discussion, on how the sleeping arrangements would proceed. “You need to stay with her Chris, that only makes sense.”

The man was happy if bewildered about that; he and Julie sleeping together again made little sense, but they were still, outwardly, a couple.

“Our kids have never really been ones that come to us in the night. I’ll sleep in the main bed and be available for them, but really, it’s never been needed. You and, um, Claire, can sleep in the spare room,” Julie had said quietly, ashamed at her arousal at this; yet it was a fact, she felt absolutely no sexual attraction toward her husband. Nothing. She was greatly aroused, however, at the thought of watching him have sex with her mistress. And so it was decided, and Julie had then texted Mistress Claire with the agreement.

“I will serve you as much as possible, Mistress,” was what she now quietly replied to Gena.

At that point the mistress’s cell interrupted the conversation. She left her slave and walked into the living room to chat with the caller, Hannah. “Hey Bitch,” she said warmly.

“Bitch yourself,” Hannah laughed.

“So’d, you meet up with our slave’s, um, woman?” Gena had decided to keep her knowledge of Marcie Woodhouse to herself, for now. She liked the idea of Hannah being involved; she’d see how things played out.

“I did,” Hannah murmured, ”we’re actually here now. Our girl is doing a surprise shoot; someone showed up needing a model and they were happy with my bitch.”

“Well, good, but what did this, um, Marcie say about your, idea?” Gena persisted.

Hannah snorted, “She liked it, and is going to get calling today. And she loved me; I thought her eyes would bug out of her freakin’ skull. Asked me how tall I was of course,” Hannah laughed.

There was a pause, then Gena replied, “How tall are you, anyway?”

“What?” Hannah exclaimed. “What the fuck?”

“I’ve wondered, oh queen, so now it’s out there. Courtney is tall to me and you’re taller than her. So?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you short people are all the same. Five eleven, now go write a book,” Hannah chuckled. “I’ve got to go. I’ll bring our slave back and we can have some fun together.”

“You got it. Bitch.” Gena grinned.

Hannah laughed, “You got that right.”


“Happy Birthday, dear Abigail, happy birthday to you,” everyone sang and the enthusiastic youngster blew out her eight candles.

“Great timing,” Angel commented to Julie, “we get back and three days later is the birthday, wow, cutting it close,” she smiled.

“Yeah, I know, but the folks extended things a bit. Doesn’t matter, it’s kind of nice that we have this celebration together, after being apart for the last few weeks.”

“Yeah, the kids are, like, different. Crazy. Travel  does that, I guess.” Angel added. “And there’s something on this weekend?”

“Yeah,” Julie whispered, “the Whites are having a second birthday party on Friday. They’ve got a surprise.”

“They didn’t…” Angel murmured, her eyes wide.

“They did,” Julie said, her face close to Angel’s ear. “I guess the horse arrived from Scotland this afternoon. They’re going to give him a couple of days to get his um, legs, and then the party.”

“Her legs,” Angel said confidentially.

“I thought he was a boy horse,” Julie whispered.

“Not to our princess,” Angel nodded knowingly, her eye on a beaming Abigail.


“You don’t need to do that,” Julie commented to Angel who was cleaning up from the gathering. Both the kids had crashed and Christopher was having a shower; Claire had just returned and was in the spare room.

“Oh, no worries, Mrs. J. There’s not much.” The two women then gathered and wiped in silence for a few minutes, before Angel said quietly. “It must be odd, having the Mister’s, um, assistant staying here now, hmmmm?”

Julie hesitated, then replied conversationally, “She’s um, a pleasant woman and tends to keep to herself, and it shouldn’t be for long. Divorces are so…disturbing; I’m glad we can help her out.”

“Yes, I can’t imagine,” Angel added, tying up a garbage bag. As she turned to take the bags to the chute she stopped, “Oh, Mrs. White invited me to the, um, acreage on Friday; I guess the kids are staying the night.”

Julie nodded, “Yes, we’re sure that it will be impossible to get Abby home that night. She’ll probably want to sleep right in the stall.”

Angel laughed as she headed out, saying “See you in Prattsville in a couple of days.”

After the woman had gone, Julie busied herself with putting some things away, hearing Christopher leave the upstairs bath and head to the spare room. A minute or two later, Claire Butler came down to the kitchen and stood behind Julie, reaching around to fondle her breasts, before tugging the nipples strongly. “Go and change into a negligee dirty Whore, nothing under of course; then back here,” she commanded quietly.

“Yes, Mistress,” Julie murmured, heading off to the master bedroom; the spare room was where all her clothes now were, but she kept one negligee in her old room, where all of Mistress Claire’s clothes were now  settled, in that room’s wardrobe and Julie’s chest of drawers.

In a few moments Julie was back downstairs and the two women went into the darkened living room. Claire sat on the couch and spread her legs, bringing her slave’s face between her thighs.

“This will be interesting, won’t it, Bitch, us living together?”

“Yes, Mistress Claire,” Julie murmured, lifting her head.

“You’ll change into this each night as soon as you can, understand? You are to be naked and available for my use as much as possible.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Okay, lick me thoroughly now Slave. Then I want you to be on guard in the hall; Chris and I like to cuddle and caress before we fuck and crash, and we don’t want any unexpected interruptions in case kids wake up. And I also want you outside the door, on your knees, so you can listen to us as we make love.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Julie murmured as she licked, feeling a strong surge of arousal at her approaching humiliation.

Claire shook her head wordlessly, focussed on the mass of dark hair beneath her; it still confounded her, this acceptance. She said quietly, “After the two of us have finished fucking, you will clean his cum from me, understood?”

Wanting to reach then between her own thighs, Julie focused on her task, but replied, “Y-yes, Mistress.”

Claire chuckled, then moaned softly and moved her bottom back and forth for a minute. She then lifted Julie’s glistening face up, saying, “You really are a disgusting whore. You don’t deserve him.”

Julie swallowed, nodding her head.

“Open your mouth, cunt,” Julie complied and Claire slowly drooled a gob of saliva into it, massaging it into her slave’s tongue, “What do you say?”

“Ummm, thank you, Mistress Claire…”

Claire leaned back, “Rim my asshole with your dirty tongue and suck it, kiss it like a lover,” Julie spread the cheeks and closed her eyes, enjoying the musky scent, pushing her tongue as far into the hole as she could, kissing the brown ring tenderly, sucking the creases, not caring why she enjoyed this act.

After a moment, as if an idea had just hit her, Claire stood and lifted her slave by her hair, pulling off the thin negligee. She then led a naked Julie upstairs, cautiously opening Abigail’s door and peeking in. Seeing the girl soundly sleeping, Claire led her terrified slave in to stand beside the bed. “Lie on the floor and masturbate,” Claire ordered.

Quietly sinking to the carpet, astonished and ashamed at how aroused she was, Julie-Slave spread her legs and rapidly massaged her clitoris, careful of her moans.

Claire then squatted over the prone woman, “Open your mouth you pathetic bitch,” Claire commanded, before urinating into the orifice. “Something for you to drink as you hump,” she whispered, closing her eyes.


The ‘present’ had been spectacular; Abigail’s reaction left nothing to the imagination. Julie in fact needed to wipe away some tears as did Angel, standing beside her. As predicted, Abigail was loath to leave ‘Star-shine’, but in the end, with trainer Della Ostrander’s gentle reminders of a horse’s needs and that Abigail could see…’her’, in the morning, the girl gave in.

Leaving their daughter and Noah with Angel and his parents for the weekend, Christopher was now driving the two of them back to the city; they traveled much of the way in silence, after commenting on the horse, party, etcetera. There really was little it seemed to say to each other, the situation with Claire making Chris wish, guiltily, for Julie to be somewhere else, and now conversations with her were stilted.

And Julie had her mind on what was awaiting her at Mistress Gena’s and then tomorrow; her mistress had informed her that on Saturday she would be taken to her first slave party, a thought that both aroused and frightened her.


Abigail came bounding out of the ensuite that adjoined her room (every bedroom in the luxurious home had its own bath) and jumped on her bed. She then sat naked on the edge and looked at her grandmother. “How come you don’t make me get dressed right away like Angel, Gramma?” She asked.

Joyce White, sitting in an antique rosewood-framed armchair, smiled at the child. “You can be free with me, my dear. I know how you like to romp around. When others are around, well, you need to wear your clothes, that’s just manners. But be natural the rest of the time. I think it’s lovely. I used to run around naked as a girl too, you know.”

“Wow, cool Gramma,” Abigail said, unable to imagine her grandmother as a girl, then smiled and lay on her bed, stretching out her long, for an eight-year-old, legs. “Can Sarah come over again tomorrow, before we haf’ta go?” She asked, of her also eight-year-old neighbor; the Davidsons lived south of them; while the Ostranders lived one acreage north.

Joyce White nodded, thinking briefly about Sarah’s parents, who she was looking into. Joyce White loved information. “Yes,” she nodded, “I think she’s coming over in the morning to ride, um, Star-Shine with you. Then the two of you could play. Gramma has to go out tomorrow night, but Sarah can stay until after lunch.”

White then looked at the incoming text message and smiled. “Maybe you and Sarah can play here with all those Barbies and everything your, mmm, grandfather bought you.”

Abigail smiled; she liked Sarah but didn’t really care for dolls. Joyce White had never enjoyed dolls either.


“George signed the papers,” Claire murmured, pressed against Dr. White, with the house to themselves for the night. Abigail, Noah and Angel would not be returning  until Sunday; Abigail maybe not even then. From her reaction to her horse it was clear she didn’t want to leave at all.

But tonight they would enjoy the closeness with just the two of them. “He’s being tight with what I should get from the house, but he wants to own it so it’ll get settled soon.”

White lay pressed against this woman he enjoyed holding so much; it would be devastating, he considered with horror, to lose this. “And then we need to decide what happens, um, here,” he said.

Claire snuggled back into the lean frame against her, thinking back to the previous evening and how she had used his wife. As far as what happens here, she wanted to do more to the woman.

After Julie had actually drank her piss, Claire had had her clean her labia completely, even as the slave continued masturbating. She was then amazed at the silent orgasm the ridiculous woman experienced within a few minutes.

Claire then allowed the slave to retrieve her negligee before placing her outside the spare bedroom door, open a tiny crack, allowing her to listen to the sex within.

No, she definitely wanted more of that, she actually wanted to have the slave lying on the floor beside them. “Well, we have probably a year before people start asking questions, so we can take some time, Dear,” she said quietly.

“And then…Julie needs to decide, as well,” the doctor murmured, in difficult territory for him.

With a private smile, Claire thought for a moment how Julie had eagerly licked out Mistress Claire’s ass after the sex. She was a complete, total (and to Claire, disgusting) slave. The woman who had not wanted her husband, as Chris had related to her one night, to come in her mouth was eagerly eating his goo out of another woman’s anus. Truly bizarre.

No, there would be no problem with Julie, but Dr. White needn’t know that; not right now, anyway.


Mistress Gena had arranged for a town car and driver to take her and her slave to the evening’s event. While she was resplendent in a black gown and expensive shoes, Slave-Julie was modestly dressed in a simple work dress and flat sandals; it wouldn’t matter, however, as all the slaves would be naked for the night.

Gena had briefly explained the arrangements to her slave that afternoon; there would be eight owners, Masters and Mistresses, made up of two couples and four singles; three of the singles being female. Each owner or couple would bring one slave and there would be four female slaves and two males.

During the evening, all the slaves would be available for pleasure or punishment by all the owners, and at the end of the evening, each owner could leave with someone else’s slave, if they wanted to. The following morning the slaves would be taken back to their Masters or Mistresses. Julie was a little nervous at the idea of serving a man; it had been a long while since she had handled a cock.

“It’s just like riding a bike, Slave,” Gena had teased her, “it will all come back to you for sure.”

(End of Chapter 18)

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 17 To Be In Control

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 17 To Be In Control Or Simply Be Existing

“Fuck Kyle!” Denise exclaimed in exasperation, but the only result was that her husband strolled over and slapped her hard across the face.

“Pose, Bitch, and I’ll give you your clothes back and you can get the fuck outta here.”

Angrily brushing tears away, a still defiant Denise cried, “How many fucking shots do you need? You’ve been shooting all fucking night.”

Kyle actually laughed at this, as it was true. He had shots of Denise being fucked by him, by Jason, by him and Jason; in her pussy, in her mouth and in her ass. The double penetration they tried had not worked; it took more coordination than the two men could handle, but Kyle did have great shots of Denise and the ‘Mexican’ girl. But he wanted a few more specific ones and he wanted some where Denise was not looking ‘like a bitch’.

“Three more, cum-bucket, and we’re done, but you need to smile.”

Denise made an effort, but only by imagining Kyle being run over by a car.


“So,” Courtney murmured, kneeling beside her mistress as the woman ate her breakfast, “may I ask you a question?”

Hannah gazed down with that look of superiority which was not an act. She was also pleased. Last night had been great, Courtney accepting all that was done to her. Even as she knelt now, there was a substantial butt plug inside her, reminding her of her submission.

“Kiss my feet, Slave. Show your devotion and I will consider.”

Courtney bent forward and gently, lovingly, placed her full, pink lips against the soft skin. Hannah had wonderful feet, actually. The toes were proportional and perfectly shaped; there were no odd bone structures jutting here or there. Courtney enjoyed kissing them. After a few moments, Mistress Hannah tugged on the leash and brought the lovely face back up. “Ask your question, no, wait,” she paused, smiling, “what is in your ass?”

Courtney actually blushed; this still caused her some embarrassment, although she was now used to the intrusion and had responded positively to the anal assault the night before, the skillful Hannah using a combination of anal, vaginal and clitoral stimulation to produce two orgasms; one a noteworthy ‘leg-shaker’. But for someone who had relentlessly guarded her…butt, all these years, this was still a humiliation.

“I have a plug in my, um, butt, Mistress,” she replied, quietly.

“Your ass,” Hannah smiled.

“My…ass,” Courtney murmured.

“Why?” Hannah asked with a tug on the leash, still smiling down.

Courtney lowered her eyes, “My mistress wishes to use my ass for her pleasure,” she repeated, using the phrase Hannah had given her.

Hannah chuckled softly, “You really are an obedient slave. I may just keep you.”

She waited again as her slave paused, head still bowed; Courtney then asked, “Um, what are your…plans for, um, him?”

Hannah sat, considering; then she brought her left foot up to Courtney’s face and put her toes in the waiting mouth. As her slave sucked them, Hannah began. “You mean Kyle Gilbertson, hmmmm? Well, he has become my, uh, project. I have looked into him, but we need more money to really make…something happen.”

They sat in silence, then Hannah removed her toes and Courtney swallowed, then asked. “What, um, jeez, this is weird. What can happen?”

Hannah gazed down. “Don’t worry about that; leave that to me, my sweet muff muncher. Now, something else, but connected. Gena wishes to buy your slave. Don’t look like that.” She admonished, as Courtney looked up with a start. “Think carefully. The slave is not something you need now, and you’re already having a hard time finding things to do with her. You should make the deal. The money from her would let me investigate this jerk. I’ll set up something very unpleasant for him. It will be sweet revenge.”

Courtney stared up with a bewildered look; this was a lot to take in.



Denise Gilbertson was pissed. “Fuck,” she said aloud again, glad the friend who was letting her stay at her place was out. She was looking over the documents her soon-to-be-ex had signed, noting all the amendments. He had signed everything, meaning the ball was in her court. But he had reduced pretty much everything involving numbers.

“Fuck,” she repeated, thinking that her lawyer would advise a counter offer; but she was inclined to just sign and be done with the bastard.

And of course there were all the shots (and video) the two assholes had taken last night to think about.



“Ah, my dear, great timing as I’ve just made coffee,” Dr. White smiled as Claire returned from her ‘sleepover’.

“Oh, you’re wonderful,” she said, coming and planting a big smooch on the doctor.

“So, what were you ladies up to?” he continued, pouring the woman a steaming cup.

“Oh, this and that,” Claire said with a grin as she hung up her jacket.

“Well, I think it’s great that you have some gals to, uh, play with,” the good doctor smiled, and Claire grinned, thinking how surprised he’d be if he found out who they ‘played with’.


“Ummmm,” Courtney moaned and strained against her bonds, as she was tied again to her mistress’s bed. She had today now experienced over an hour of expert stimulation, as Mistress Hannah used vibrators, insertions, paddles, clips and her own lips and hands, to ‘edge’ her slave, bringing her close to orgasm and then denying it.

Courtney, blindfolded again, a leather thong through her mouth and tied around her head making articulate speech impossible, was none-the-less trying to beg for release.

“Does my bitch wish to come?” Hannah murmured, and her voice although not be as chocolate-ty smooth as Courtney’s own, still held its particular allure, and it struck deep into her slave’s mind.

“Mmmmm, hmmmm, hmmmm, uuuuhhh,” Courtney desperately moaned. Hannah chuckled and leaned over; she was lying against her slave. She licked around Courtney’s mouth, teasing her. She then took the electric toothbrush and vibrated it against Courtney’s clitoris, causing the woman to raise her hips and rub against the device, moaning throughout.

Hearing her door open, Hannah removed Courtney’s blindfold. “Soon, my sweet whore, but first, a friend has come to play,” she teased, just as the guest came to stand by the bed.

“Oh, I like how this looks,” the woman said, and Courtney looked up into Gena’s smiling face, as the woman began undressing.


Now Sunday evening and Courtney, with the weekend coming to its close and two full days of sexual service in her mind, had a great deal to consider, as she sat on one couch in Gena’s unit.

Julie was in her cage, but Courtney had promised her they would sleep together tonight. The woman needed to return to work the next day and Gena had taken her home to gather some clothes, before carrying on to join Hannah and assist with ‘her slave’s’ afternoon use and abuse; something she had been looking forward to for a long while. The session this afternoon was in fact one of the things on Courtney’s mind as she sat quietly.

Gena now entered and came over to Courtney, who as directed was wearing only a thin negligee. Gena gently fondled one breast, then the other, as Courtney sat and accepted the attention. Gena then kissed her mouth. The smiling woman then collapsed on the other couch with her wine and regarded her ‘housemate’. “I enjoyed using you this afternoon, Slave; how ‘bout you?” She grinned.

Courtney looked up with a little smile on her face. “You two have been planning that for a while, hmmm?”

Gena chuckled, “Yeah, but my question was, did you enjoy it?”

Courtney regarded the other woman calmly, “You couldn’t tell?” She asked, knowing full well both women had witnessed her pleasure; nothing had been held back, and afterwards she had performed oral sex on Gena, as enthusiastically as any slave could and to the approval of her mistress.

Gena smiled, “Yeah, but I want to hear you say it.”

The two gazed at each other, before Courtney murmured, “I enjoyed serving you, Miss Gena. I admit that; there’s no point in being…stupid.”

Gena nodded her acceptance of that and sipped some wine. “So you’ve got some decisions now, hey?”

Courtney passed a hand over her face and nodded. “Why would you want to buy Slave-Julie, you can already use her pretty much when you want?” She asked.

Gena sat, the smile still on her lips, “Yeah, but if I own her, I don’t need to ask or plan around you. And I like her, I like using her. She’s so submissive it’s sweet; delicious.” She grinned.

In some ways Courtney felt relief; it had been fun targeting Julie White from out of the blue as it seemed and having the whole thing work out, but it was a responsibility. And what to do about her kids? In the back of her mind that problem had rested from the beginning; well, Gena could deal with that now.

And the thought of Hannah taking some sort of action against KG was exciting; Courtney didn’t know if she was capable of exacting revenge, but she liked the idea and she had no doubt Hannah would not shy away from anything…complicated, or even messy.

And it then came down to Hannah. The woman had ‘put her cards on the table’ with Courtney, stating that ‘play-time’ was over and she wanted some kind of commitment from Courtney or their intimate time together was done. What Courtney felt when Hannah said this in her calm way left no doubt; she did not want this to be over. But was she ready to commit…fully?

As if watching her from somewhere, Courtney’s cell chirped with a call from…the woman herself.

“Yes, Mistress,” Courtney answered, as Gena sat, sipping her wine and smiling. Courtney listened to the questions, sat for a moment and then said. “I’m good with selling Julie, but I want to sleep with her tonight.” There was a pause and then, “and, I will commit to you for a month as your…s-slave.” Across the room, Gena grinned broadly.


“So,” Claire murmured as she cuddled close to Dr. White, “looking at those messages from your kids and your folks makes me envious. God, what a wonderful trip.”

“I know,” the good doctor replied, nestling his hand into Claire’s soft crotch. “I felt guilty at first with them going away, but seeing what they’re up to and everything, wow, makes me wish I was there.”

“Yeah, exactly.” They lay quietly for a moment, then Claire continued, “Oh, and one of my gal-pals had a suggestion, a kind of a scary one…”

“Mmmm-hmmmm,” the doctor responded, clueless as to what it might be; he really had no idea what women talked to each other about.

“Ummmm, she said I should just pack it in with, uh, George; see if he would buy my share of our house and then I move on with my life.”

White lay now in thought; he had contemplated the same idea, actually, but had no courage to suggest it. “I, um, could see that, but where would you go? What would you do?” He asked with some nervousness.

“Ummmm, well, she suggested, that since I’m already here on weekends, maybe I could move into the spare room for a while, just ‘til I got sorted out.”

“Mmmmm, that would be, interesting, but kind of awkward for you, hey, with the children about.” It was what he wanted, but was he simply being selfish?

“I know, but I’d be willing to try it. Your wife is into…her thing, and it would be a way to be together. Your kids seem pretty busy and, um, involved.”

White chuckled. “They are that.” He paused, “You don’t think it would be too much of, um, me? You already need a break now and then as it is?”

“Yeah, that’s just human nature my love, we all need some alone time; we can figure that out. But I’m just letting you know, that I would leave him, if you want me to. And it wouldn’t, you know, depend on me moving in here. The marriage has been dead as a dodo for years; I should have left a long time ago.”

They lay quietly again, until White murmured, “I don’t know how you’ve managed with him, all these years. You should get free, be free; I’ll help you, you know that? And it would be wonderful to have you here.”

“I know, and thank you,” she said, gently stroking his growing erection.


On Monday, Julie sat looking out her window, thinking how strange it was to be back and to be…Julie White, Associate Partner, again; this double life, triple really when she thought of her children, was getting harder to keep together.

For the first time that she could recall she really didn’t want to be here, doing this. Her mind wasn’t on it and her heart wasn’t in it; even Tina had made a comment to her about ‘looking like she was off somewhere’.

All these freakin’ decisions, she pondered.

Just then Jasmine came in with some stuff and Julie looked up with respect, as the young woman closed the door. “On your knees, Bitch,” she said quietly, a smile on her face. “I’ve told Helen we have some things to go over so no interruptions for a few minutes.

Julie nodded, looking up from the floor, as Jasmine then knelt behind her and tugged down her slacks. The slave was wearing no panties today as Mistress Gina had decided she would only be allowed them when she was having her period. “Ummmm, I like that,” Jasmine crooned, noting the dark butt plug. The slave was also to wear the plug now for several hours each day.

Jasmine moved to Slave-Julie’s face, her slacks now down, and spread her ass. The slave moved up and began licking the dark hole; she’d hoped that Jasmine would come to her; and doing this, right here near the door, was incredibly arousing.

“Mmmm, that’s a good slave,” Jasmine purred. She’d had a nice chat with Gena, who was now apparently involved with Slave-Julie as well, and the woman had indicated that she wanted the slave serving women as much as possible.

“I’ll do my part,” Jasmine had grinned.


Julie, after looking at the day’s texts and pictures from her family, had gone into her financial folder. Mistress Gena had mentioned it, explicitly, and it was worth considering; the selling of her stocks and shares in this company and then taking some time…to herself.

It likely was the right decision.


The two women were pumping and grunting; Courtney on her knees, her wrists tied to a spreader bar, with Gena behind her. The mistress was trying out her double-dildo and it was Courtney, with anal now expected of her, accepting having both her holes filled at the same time. As Gena thrust, she would also bring her small hand paddle down when she wished, and Courtney’s ass was heating up quickly, as again was her arousal.

With Hannah gone away to Philadelphia, and Courtney agreeing in writing to being her slave for one month, Mistress Gena was more than happy to step in and ‘take the leash’. “If what’s-her-face accepts being sold, will you be able to handle two bitches?” Hannah had asked with her trademark look, this morning before she left.

Gena had returned one of her looks and an eye-roll, “Phffftt,” she’d replied, “I’m good; give me a whole herd of bitches,” she’d dead-panned, thinking Slave-Julie really had no say in any decision.

Hannah snuffed. “That’s what I want, ride ‘em hard, Miss G. And use Courtney’s ass every day.”

“How long are you going to be gone and what the fuck are you up to?” Gena had asked.

“A coupl’a days and wouldn’t you like to know?” Hannah had smirked, before leaving.

“Here’s a goodbye present,” Gena had grinned, flipping up a middle finger as Hannah turned to head down the hallway.

Gena had then gone to the bedroom where Courtney was tied on the bed, wearing a complete hood today, and began giving her the attention which had now progressed to this sweaty moment, with Courtney reaching a climax and collapsing on the carpet, and Gena slowly withdrawing the glistening phalluses, before slapping the reddened ass one more time.

“I’ll let you rest a moment, Slave. Then I want that lovely tongue bringing me some pleasure,” she said, untying the slave.

“Mmmmmm, yes, Mistress,” Courtney murmured, still getting used to the idea of serving her ‘friend’.


With one slave dealt with, Mistress Gena was now with the other, following up on their earlier discussion.

“I’d still, um, have my family to work around,” Julie had murmured as Miss G caressed and aroused her.

“We’ll deal with that; you would still go off to work each morning; it’s just that your work would be serving me, and whoever else I decide. But you would be what you’re meant to be, most of the time. You want that, don’t you, Slave?”

Julie had accepted that Gena’s voice and face did not produce the same response within her as her ‘mistress’, but they did cause a stir none-the-less. She had now stretched her bonds to try and kiss the face above her, before opening her mouth and sucking aggressively on the tongue that entered her.

“You want to be my slave, don’t you?” Gena had then whispered.

Slave. The word stabbed like a hot poker. It didn’t matter if this was an illness of sorts, or an obsession, this was real and the thought of not being this now filled her with…dread? She belonged here, tied down or on her knees, serving; there was no doubt at all. It was incredible, but true.

“Mmmmm, y-yes, Mistress. Yes, yes, yes…”

Jesus, Gena thought, two slaves for the price of one; and they definitely were keeping her busy.


Denise Gilbertson regarded the small package on her desk. It had been delivered this morning before she arrived. Looking at it and noting no return address, gave her cause for concern.

It turned out to be a single thumb drive. With increasing agitation she inserted it into her computer, and in a moment was watching…herself; she watched for a few moments, looking up anxiously whenever she heard footsteps, but she watched enough to know it was an edited video from Friday night, showing her, clearly and graphically, in a variety of sexual acts.

She took the drive out and put it in her pocket, then read the short note. It said simply to be at their house tonight at eight, signed with a happy face.

Asshole, she thought angrily.


Danielle handed the Glock back to her friend Daryl. “So, whaddya think?” she asked. The two were standing in the handgun firing section of a local gun range.

The young man smiled, “That’s not bad D. But I’m still not sure why you want to learn how to shoot?”

Danielle removed her head-gear, “No worries, just sum’thin’ I want to do,” she said quietly, although in her mind the face on the silhouette was definitely Jason’s. Or Kyle’s.


Hannah sat in her rental vehicle outside an ordinary-looking, two-storey house just off of Grant Avenue in north-east Philadelphia; the Delaware River and the state line were only a few blocks away from this average, middle-class community.

The house belonged to Kyle and Denise Gilbertson, and as Hannah watched, a late-model Acura pulled up and an attractive brunette, late-twenties, sat in it and looked up at the house. Appearing reluctant, the woman climbed out and stood on the street, continuing to stare. Finally, with an obvious sigh, she started up the walk.

Looking in the file she’d created over the last two weeks, Hannah recognized Denise Gilbertson as the unwilling visitor.


“So, everything stays the same, with um, Claire and all, I mean,” Julie said as she headed up from the parkade, cell phone to her ear.

“Oh, um, yes, I’m good with that. But, um, how are you?” Christopher asked, still trying to get his mind around all of this, which seemed to be his normal state of affairs.

“Oh, I’m good, yeah. I know this is a crazy time and all. Uh, what do you think of all the shots and stuff from the kids?” She asked, pausing by a door and returning, however briefly, to a moment of her old life.

“All I can say is ‘wow’, I mean, it’s pretty fantastic,” came his reply.

“I’ll say. I don’t know how we’re going to deal with the two of them when they get home. Their world is going to be so…boring,” Julie commented.

“Yeah, it’s going to be a change, no doubt. But, hey, they may find it nice to get back to…normal, hmmm?”

Julie stood for a moment, “Do you think we’ll ever have, normal, Chris?” She asked, quietly, knowing the answer.

Christopher sighed. “That’s the question, isn’t it.” There was a pause. “Oh, and Claire’s leaving her husband. I, um, want her to stay here, just for a while, until things are settled. She’d store her clothes and so on in the spare room, I’m guessing?”

Julie sighed, she’d already been told by Mistress Gena about this. “That makes sense. Talk soon,” she said and headed down the hall.

Normal, she shook her head considering that. What was now normal was when she was collared and on her knees. That was her new normal.

As directed, once in her office, she now texted Miss Claire, her hand shaking with arousal at this disclosure; even though it had been dictated to her; she agreed with it.

“Dear Mistress Claire. I am happy to know that you are moving in permanently. Chris deserves a woman like you. I look forward to serving you whenever I can.”

Claire regarded the text, shook her head in wonder, and smiled.

Julie sat back in her chair and looked up as Jasmine had arrived, Amelia behind her.  


“This seems…sudden.” Bryce Reiter noted, looking across the table at Julie. Before him on his desk was a proposal for the sale of Julie’s share percentage in the company.

Julie nodded; she had put thought into this; she had spent the last two days mulling on it, and doing very little at work, spending the time instead considering her future.

She had, of course, also served Jasmine (twice yesterday) and licked Amelia’s densely-haired pussy first thing this morning, as Jasmine directed. That had been the extent of her ‘work’ at the office, and it was now Wednesday.

So she knew where her focus was and that if she was not committed to this business, it would eat at her and she would do a lousy job. The company was in great shape and from a financial perspective the timing was perfect. From a personal perspective, it made no sense to her to come to work every day wanting to be somewhere else; with someone else, doing something else. She couldn’t keep up this charade. Even though she enjoyed serving Jasmine and others, that certainly was no reason to stay on.

Yet it was still so strange. If someone had said to her six months ago that she would be making this decision and for these reasons, she would have thought them insane. Truly. But here she was, eager to get this done.

“Ummm, maybe, but I have considered it Bryce, even back when I agreed to sell the company; it’s all about timing, right? There are some things I’d like to do, so why wait?” She smiled, suddenly imagining herself on the X-cross.

Bryce regarded her thoughtfully, thinking this was weird and unexpected, but people make their own decisions, and Julie had seemed…different, recently. “I’ll take it to the partners and get back to you soon.”

“Thank you. With the stock market variations, this needs to be acted upon.”

Bryce nodded his head. “Understood. The partners won’t want to dawdle. I’m sure they’ll have a decision tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, getting up and heading out and down the hall, the butt plug she was wearing reminding her of her other life, the one she was committing to. When she reached her desk, she sent a text to Mistress Gena, “I’ve turned in my proposal, Mistress.”

In a few moments the return text read, “That is a good slave. My paddle and my pussy will be your rewards when you get that sweet ass back here.”

Julie moved both hands between her thighs and leaned forward, placing her head on her desk thinking, this is so…unreal; was this even her? Maybe she was losing her mind. Maybe she had already lost it.

Certainly, in many ways, Julie White was gone.

She looked up as Jasmine, with Amelia and another assistant whose name Julie wasn’t certain of, had come to her door, for her end-of-day service.

Jasmine smiled, motioned with a nod and turned, with Julie then following the little group to the washroom at the end of the hall.

 (End of Chapter 17)

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 16 Human Nature

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 16

Human Nature, To Bring Ones Suffering Upon Oneself

“Okay, I need to get rolling,” Claire said, finding her bag.

“Oh yeah, you gotta work.” Gena noted, sipping some coffee.

“Correct. I made arrangements to get in after lunch today; there’s no surgery, just some consultations so no worries.” Claire added, coming to stand by Gena, who stood and smiled. “I’ve had a great time, Gena, really great.”

Gena reached forward and embraced the other woman, then they broke apart, then kissed; a long kiss; then embraced again. “You’ve liked everything?” Gena murmured.

Claire squeezed the other, purring, “Oh my God, yes.” She leaned back and looked at Gena. “I really want to come back; how would that be?”

“That would be great,” Gena replied as Claire turned and began walking slowly to the door, Gena beside her. “We’ll work out something to get you back. Our slave-girl needs, um, consistent work like, to keep her in the groove. We’ll talk really soon, after Courts gets back. Oh, and the cameras will be in today, feeding to your laptop so you control things.”

“Great, no, fantastic,” Claire exclaimed, as she embraced the other a final time and headed out and down the corridor.


At three minutes to six, Hannah had her slave remove her collar and hand it up to her, as she knelt naked on the carpet. At six, she sat on her armchair and looked Courtney in the eye. “We had an agreement, and it is over. Time’s up,” she announced, no emotion discernable in her tone.

Courtney crawled to the woman and lay her head on her knee. “What?” Hannah asked, tilting her head to one side.

Courtney sat straight and struggled with her thoughts. “So, what now?” She forced a small smile onto her lips, while telling herself how dumb she was.

“Hmmmm, that depends on you, you know that, Slut.” Hannah replied, looking decidedly sphinx-like. Courtney moved forward and tried to kiss her ‘friend’, but Hannah held her back gently. “We will only hook up with you as my slave; that’s the way it must be; I can’t mess around anymore.”

Courtney lay her head down again on the knee. “Friday night, after my shoot, I will come back and be your slave for the weekend.”

Hannah sat in thought, then asked “And what happens to your slave?”

Courtney sighed, “I’ll talk to Gena; my girl has to go back to work Monday anyway, although she would be mine in the evenings. Claire is staying at the White’s until the horde gets back from Europe or wherever, so I know my girl plans to come to me.”

Hannah studied Courtney and then asked, “Is she going to keep working? Have you talked about what’s going to happen between the two of you?”

Courtney shrugged, “Not sure; she likes what she does, and she likes, uh, loves, being with me. Being like… this.”

Hannah hesitated, “And of course, there’s the…money.”

Courtney shrugged again. “Don’t know that the dollars are that big a thing with her. She owns a chunk of the company and has shares or something. Their place, which is like super nice, is paid for. I don’t think money is an issue for the White’s or for her, like.”

Hannah took Courtney’s face in her hands. “Well, the money’s important to…us.”

Courtney looked up, confusion clouding her face. “What are you talking about?”

Hannah smiled, looking exotic and dangerous, “Well, we’ll need the cash if we’re going to take care of Kyle-the-asshole. So, your slave’s money, a little of it anyway, is important.”

Courtney, still naked, just knelt and stared.


Slave-Julie was tied to the X-frame stand, a vibrating wand on a telescoping rod was pressed against her clitoris and held against her by a strap. Mistress Gena had placed her here and punished and pleasured her for a long time. There was no clock visible in this room, but Julie believed it had been for at least an hour.

Mistress Gena used more pain than Mistress Courtney, and she was not enchantingly beautiful like the red-head, and she didn’t have the same soft but compelling voice, but she was incredibly knowledgeable, and the pleasure she produced was bliss.

As Julie stood now, with bound wrists and ankles, many thoughts went rollicking through her mind; a jumble of all that had been done to her in the last few days, mixed in with memories of the pictures sent home from ‘the trip’.

It was a bizarre mix; the memory of looking up at Claire Butler’s crotch and then watching the stream of urine leave her cleft, the woman spreading her labia open so the hole was visible. Feeling the warm liquid striking her breasts; followed by an intense punch of arousal, while hoping yet dreading the woman would direct the stream onto her face. Then right in the middle of this scene, the un-called-for image of a smiling Abigail, riding around a fenced enclosure on some rustic farm, appeared. Bizarre.

If Julie had been there, at the farm, she would have discovered it to be anything but rustic, but that place wasn’t the point. The point was about this crazy place she was now in, a place she didn’t want to leave.

How disgusting am I? She had thought, as Mistress Gena urinated right into her mouth. She had tasted piss and felt unbelievable satisfaction when the young woman, acting as her mistress, caressed her urine-streaked face and told her ‘what a good girl she was’. She wanted to please this woman, to have her smile at her and caress her; to hold her close, no concern with what it ‘cost’.

What would she do to have Mistress Courtney tell her she loved her? And so what now of Miss Gena? And where did she go from here?


“She fucked me,” Courtney said quietly as she and Gena sat again on the couches, drinking wine.

Gena sighed and smiled. For months, she and Hannah had talked at length of what to make of the beautiful and, to them, confused Courtney Farrell. While Gena could fantasize about her, she did pretty much with any attractive woman she met, she knew Hannah had deeper feelings, as did Courtney.

And both Gena and Hannah, from the start, believed the stunning red-head could actually be submissive, but with something blocking her. In time Gena would learn of Courtney’s ‘initiation’ into the BDSM world, mild as it was and, as fate would have it, with her in the role of a dominant.

And Courtney was such a naturally compelling woman that over the following years she had, without trying hard at all, acquired several submissives to play with, never with any plan for their use or any deep understanding of her or their desires.

And all the while, since they first met, Hannah and Gena had watched for certain signs. So it was not a huge surprise to Gena when Courtney began role-playing with the hyper-dominant Hannah. When the dark woman shared Courtney’s rape disclosure to her, Gena also understood what was preventing the woman from giving in to her true nature; she was afraid. She had been traumatized and it had held, for all these years.

But now Hannah had broken through, in more ways than one, and had texted Gena afterwards, so Courtney’s comment to her was not a surprise.

“And how do you feel, sweet slave?” Gena murmured.

Courtney snuffed, then looked up at Gena. “You don’t seem, surprised, by any of this?”

Gena studied the other for a moment. “If you  had run away and joined a, like, Jehovah’s Witness group or some shit, that would  surprise me. That you found pleasure at Hannah’s feet, no, that doesn’t surprise me. Nope. She’s what you need, girl.”

Courtney sipped some wine, pondering; others always seemed to know more than she did. She wondered how many people could see through her ‘disguise’, that of the confident woman, to find someone so full of doubts. She was attracted to submissive personalities like Julie White (although she truly liked her) because they were non-threatening, but she was also drawn, even more strongly, to personalities like Hannah, for entirely different reasons.

“You…think I’m a submissive,” Courtney said quietly.

Gena laughed out loud and then added a dramatic eye-roll. “Bitch, I know you’re one; ain’t no secret to any of us that have eyes. So, how’d she do it? Details, Slave.”

Courtney sat quietly, then replied, “I was tied to the bed, wrists and ankles.”

Gena grinned, giving Hannah a mental thumbs-up. “And you been owned, girl.”

Courtney grimaced, smiled and looked down, then nodded her head; she’d been owned for sure. Gena laughed, “Did you beg?” Courtney sipped some wine, then nodded her head. “Figures, but what’r you gonna do, hmmm? Everybody has needs, Courtney…slave.”

Courtney looked up, “You said you’ve never felt like being dominated.”

Gena shrugged, “Doesn’t mean I don’t have needs, Lover.

Shit, even Queen Hannah has needs. She’s into you, so you’re in her head, but she’s in your head. Sounds like love, Sister.” Gena laughed, then finished her wine. “Okay, breaks over, we have a slave to look after.”

Crazy, Courtney admonished herself; she’d forgotten about Julie.


It was afternoon, Friday, and the group would have their last night in Paris tonight; they had decided to then fly to Rome for three or four days before heading back to England, and then returning for a week or so to Scotland. Having access to your own charter jet, like the Whites did, definitely improved one’s travel, climate alarmists be damned.

Given the time they had spent together, the two couples had planned to do different things today; Ab and Corinne Ramos, with Anne Nelson and Noah, were doing a river cruise and then checking out the Arc de Triomphe and The Place de la Concorde; Joyce and Daniel White, with Angel and Abigail, had gone to the Eiffel Tower, then had lunch in a lovely outdoor restaurant, and now were back at the hotel; Daniel with a spa appointment.

Angel was just taking Abigail for a dip in the pool as the older adults were heading for a spa. Abigail now emerged, running naked out of the bathroom, coming to a sudden stop before her grandmother. “Angel says I gotta wear my suit in the pool,” the girl complained, looking up.

Joyce contemplated that Angel’s words were true; this girl was going to be a beauty. Her mother was modestly attractive, Joyce pondered, but the White side of the contribution would make this girl tall; she was already tall for her age, being mistaken for a ‘fourth grader’ on more than one occasion last year; as well, her face with that added mop of curly, light-brown hair, was gorgeous.

“Yes, you need to wear your suit; it isn’t much, sweet girl. Really.”

“Fine,” Abigail replied, dashing off and jumping onto the large hotel bed and pretending to swim.

Yes, Joyce thought, a definite heart-breaker.


Danielle Franca had woken with knots in her stomach; the first thing that came to mind was her session tonight with the two scumbags. She’d gone over all sorts of scenarios, but nothing made sense. She would need to endure tonight and then continue to plan.

She looked up as a gentle knock told her a teen had come for a talk. At least her work could occupy her mind for part of the time.


Denise Gilbertson ended her call; her lawyer had just sent the papers and they should be arriving soon. It was the only reason she had agreed to Kyle’s ‘suggestion’ to join him tonight for a bitchin’ bbq.

Well, she told herself, just endure tonight and then things would get better.


Today’s shoot was not for clothing; for the first time Courtney was doing some hand and face work. As Marcie had explained, three different companies had products to promote, and if they were happy with what they saw, this could open another door for the new model.

“Clothes pay the best, girl, but face and hand products are not seasonal.”

The time between shots was tedious and a little boring, but three and a half hours later, Courtney accepted another check from Marcie and headed out. Despite the warnings to herself to keep it under control, her arousal at being with Mistress Hannah again tonight was building.

Stop being so stupid, she told herself. Stop it!

But it made no difference, she was wound up tight. And besides that, she really needed to know what Hannah meant about taking care of Kyle-the-asshole.


“So,” Gena purred, “and you thought she didn’t like you.”

Hannah chuckled. She’d gotten Gena’s text and was now on a break and able to call. “I still don’t think she, mmm, likes me, G, she does like what I do to her, right.”

“Yeah, whatever, you’ve gotten to her.” They sat for a minute, Gena continued, “I think you owe me dinner or something for predicting this.”

“Ha,” Hannah laughed, “I don’t think you predicted I’d fuck her. You said something about ‘hooking up’.”

“Yeah, what does hookin’ up mean where you’re from?” They both chuckled, “So, you’re gonna push things along?”

“Oh yeah, no point in being, like, sly. I’ll bang her silly tonight, all the holes, and we’ll see how that goes. She might just run back to your place.”

Gena smirked. “I’m guessing not. I think you’ve got her by the short hairs, which is hard ‘cuz she’s shaved,” they both laughed again, “so I think, yeah, make the point; she’s a slave, she really is. A special one, for sure. But I want her committed, Hannah.”

“I know; and I feel good about where we are. But my track record for keepin’ gals isn’t good, hey? So, we’ll keep it a day at a time.”

They sat quietly for a moment before Hannah noted her break was almost over and Gena said, “Yeah sure, H. Hey, hang a minute, like. Look, we’ve wondered about Courtney’s little slave, right? How about I buy her? You guys are lookin’ for some green for whatever fucking, secret project you’re cookin’ up. This could work for us both.”

“Why do you want the White woman?” Hannah asked, naturally suspicious.

“I just do, whadd’ya you care?” Gena snickered.

“How much would you pay, G-bomb?”

Gena hesitated for a moment, “Seventy-five hundred.”

Hannah paused, a smile on her face. “No shit, must be nice to have money. Well, I’ll talk with my slave…”

“Our slave…”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll get back to you.”

The call ended and Gena sat with a smile on her face. Of course Hannah wouldn’t understand; she didn’t know who Julie White really was. She then fired off another text message.


Courtney arrived at Hannah’s at seven as directed. She had been able to spend some time with Julie, who was clearly confused with what was happening. Their time together was more like girlfriends than mistress and slave, as they kissed, fondled and talked. But then Courtney knew Claire Butler was coming over again and that Slave-Julie would get lots of attention, and Julie of course promised that she would be obedient.

But now that was in the past as Courtney was on all fours, with Mistress Hannah delivering punishment with a broad, light, wooden paddle that again didn’t really hurt but reddened and heated up Courtney’s buttocks nicely and lit a fire within her.

As she was paddled, she ground her pelvis into the vibro-pad placed against a pillow beneath her. It was a small, curved, plastic device with a rubber, ridged cover and it was now set to seven, effectively stimulating Courtney’s entire g-spot region.

With each slap of the paddle, Courtney could feel her arousal build, and she ground her pelvis and arched her back and begged her mistress for more. There were no thoughts of pride at all and her fears were gone; all that mattered was her need, and pleasing her mistress.


It had been an awkward evening, Denise found, with Kyle unusually jovial and his friend Jason, who Denise had never really taken to, being all ‘friendly’; Denise had needed to move away from him and his ‘wandering hands’ several times. And what was with his girlfriend? She seemed…weird.

Denise had tried to limit her wine consumption, but the situation was uncomfortable and she found herself drinking a lot; her glass also seemed to be always refilled, and she felt more than a little ‘woozy’ right now.

Kyle of course was avoiding the documents; “We’ll get to those,” he had said with one of those very annoying smirks plastered on his face

****      ****

Danielle looked at her watch; nine-thirty. She’d had two glasses of wine forced on her and was feeling more than mellow, but somehow still anxious, nervous and watchful. Having another woman here was helpful, but Danielle knew something unpleasant was going to happen, and with Kyle and Jason in brief, leering conversation, it seemed to be starting now.

They had all moved to the fire pit, and from a signal from Jason, ‘the girlfriend’ Danielle reluctantly stood and began to do a small dance and a slow strip tease, with both men loudly egging her on, and Denise sitting and looking like she would bolt any minute, but actually not certain she could even stand.

It will be over soon, it will be over soon, Danielle kept repeating to herself, as Kyle and Jason settled on either side of a clearly alarmed Denise.

Jason’s instructions had been crystal clear; if Danielle stopped her dance, they would assault her, no matter who else was there, and put a silver bar into her nipple with no anesthetic. He had even showed her the bars, and the instrument that punctured the nipple; she believed him capable of this and was not going to test him.

So no matter what, and they were now pulling the protesting woman’s clothes from her with some resistance, Danielle kept dancing.


Slave-Julie was now suspended by her wrists; heavy clamps and weights stretched her nipples and pulled her breasts down. Heavy clips with weights were also hanging from her labia, tugging them grotesquely. The abuse tonight from Mistresses Gena and Claire had been enthusiastic, extensive and effective.

It had started with a surprise. Mistress Claire had brought in her laptop and Gena had spent a few minutes with it and then all three had watched a short clip of Dr. White and Claire making love. At one point camera two had shown a perfect picture of White’s cock sliding in and out of Claire’s pussy, before she slowly guided it into her ass.

Slave-Julie had felt such a flood of emotions, as the two women commented on the action and how much Christopher clearly loved fucking his woman and how  pitiful Julie was, fit only to suck his cock when he was finished fucking another woman. “What’s Christopher doing?” Claire asked, holding Julie by her hair.”

“H-he’s fucking you, Mistress Claire.”

“Do you wish you were there, to suck him like a faithful bitch dog once he came in me?”

Julie had to fight to focus, the arousal within her about to burst, “Yes, Mistress, I wish I was there, to suck his cock as soon as it came out of you.”

The women laughed and later exchanged looks when the slave’s first orgasm of the night came as the women simply spanked her pussy with the rubber strap.

And now she was spent; she had literally lost count of her orgasms, a couple of them actually overlapping. She hung now almost in a trance and kissed gently with Miss Gena, who was sucking her tongue between kisses. Claire meanwhile was relaxing on the couch. She’d spoken with Dr. White, as Julie was licking her pussy, and he understood she would be home in the morning.

Gena now removed the weights, then asked quietly, “Did you like watching the video?” She whispered this against the side of her slave’s face.

“Ummmm, yes Mistress, I d-did. Very much. Thank you.”

“Would you really like to be in the room, watching Christopher fuck Mistress Claire?”

Julie pondered this for only a moment; she’d thought of it herself, earlier. “Yes, I would, but how?”

Gena chuckled, “We’re working on it, Slut. You are a slut, aren’t you?”

Julie swallowed, then murmured, “Yes, I am. I am a slut.”

Gena stood, still gently caressing her slave, before continuing, “I’m guessin’ you wonder what’s going on with, uh, Mistress Courtney?” Gena whispered.

“Mmmmm,” Julie replied; she did wonder that, although Mistress Courtney had explained that she was now involved in some other things.

Julie definitely missed the compelling voice and presence of the beautiful red head, but she accepted the change, for now; she needed to belong to someone. She understood that now. She would have preferred it to be Courtney, who she felt so much for, but Mistress Gena was very good at…this. At everything, really. And, as truly bizarre as it was, she was greatly aroused by serving Claire Butler.

“I do, mmm, wonder,” Julie murmured, “but I like serving you, Mistress.” Slave-Julie softly kissed the side of Gena’s face, then the chin, then the mouth, opening her legs as her mistress pressed her pelvis in.

“Do you serve my pussy, Slave?” Gena murmured.

Feeling the surge of desire, despite her multiple releases, Slave-Julie pressed her body against the other. “Yes, Mistress, I serve your pussy.” She said without hesitation.

“Would you like your mistress to piss on you, Slave?”

Julie swallowed, Why did she respond to something so disgusting? Maybe because it was disgusting? “Y-yes, Mistress. Please p-piss on your slave.”

Gena undid Slave-Julie’s straps and attached the leash to her collar. “Crawl,” she said, leading her girl past Claire, who stood and followed. In a moment, the slave was kneeling up straight in the shower, hands clasped behind her back. Claire went first, showering the slave’s breasts, and then her face.

Gena followed, directing her stream onto the shaved labia and then directly into her slave’s mouth. Balancing herself against the shower wall, Gena then put the toes of her right foot into her slave’s orifice, forcing her to swallow the remaining warm liquid. Gena then pushed the slave’s face down to the shower floor and placed her foot on Julie’s back, making her lick the tiles of the stall.

“Thank your mistresses,” Gena commanded and Slave-Julie quietly offered her thanks. The shower was turned on and the slave now washed, watched and directed by her mistresses, who wished to see their slave use the soft brush between her legs.

“Faster, Slave,” Gena commanded.

“Harder, you worthless bitch,” Claire directed.

Slave-Julie came close to another climax, but it slipped away. It was no matter; she was content; and very clean.


Courtney offered her muffled protest, but Mistress Hannah had made sure any sounds would be minimal, with her panties in and then duct tape over her slave’s mouth. She had tied Courtney spread-eagle on the bed again, but face down this time, a pillow under her stomach.

Using gel and then several butt plugs of various lengths and widths, Hannah had prepared Courtney’s anus

and was now slowing pushing a modest-sized green phallus into the still tight hole, with the accompanying protests. (A vibrating egg had once again been inserted into the slave’s vagina.)

“Ohhhh, this is sweet,” Hannah murmured, watching the plastic cock slide in and then be pulled out. “Your butt hole is still super tight. I’m gonna need to plough this baby every day for a while.” This time as she pulled back she slapped one already reddened cheek, then plunged forward.

Reaching around, she peeled the tape off, then pulled the sodden thong out, tossing it on the floor. “Are you my bitch?” Hannah asked into one ear while driving her hips forward with a soft, rhythmic slapping of her slave’s buttocks.

“Ohhh, mmm, ungh, uh, Jesus, yes, um, ohhh, fuck, yes I’m y-your bitch. Unnnghh-oh, fuck…”

“What do you want, Bitch?” Slap! Hannah grabbed a handful of red hair and with her muscular torso drove the phallus deep into her slave’s now loosened hole, even lifting the woman off the bed at times.

“Owww-oh, mmmm, uh, f-fuck me, Mistress. Oh, jeez…fuck muuuhh, oh, ung, uh…oooohhhhhh…”

(End of Chapter 16)  

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 15 And Nothing You Say

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 15 And Nothing You Say Will Have Any Effect

Slave-Julie was carefully licking the left foot of her mistress, who was reclining on one of the couches. She was showing her gratitude, for being allowed more than twenty minutes to look at and respond to the pictures and messages sent from her children and parents. They were clearly having a blast on their trip, and in fact had spent longer in Scotland than planned and were looking to stretch the holiday another few days.

“Look at how Abigail sits this small horse,” Julie’s mother-in-law had commented. Abigail, who had fallen in love with the horse and the Scottish farm, apparently was insisting she would not leave the place unless ‘her horse’ came too.

“Don’t worry,” Julie’s mom had chimed in (apparently the messages were always group efforts) “we’ll think of something.” Julie had smiled and wiped away a tear as she sent her reply, and now she was back to serving her mistress.

“So, you are grateful, my slave?” Her mistress asked in that warm voice that seemed to caress her.

“Oh, yes, Mistress. Thank you for allowing me to catch up on my family’s trip,” she murmured from the carpet.

Courtney smiled, pulling on the leash and bringing Julie’s face up into her crotch. She buried both hands in her slave’s thick, curling hair and humped her sex on the active tongue that was exploring her tight labia’s folds and creases.

After about ten minutes, she relaxed her grip and said quietly, “I’m going to have Mistress Gena in charge of you for this evening. I’m going out to see Miss Hannah. Oh, and Mistress Claire is coming by later, so you’ll be a busy slave.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Julie murmured, before pressing her lips gently but firmly down on Courtney’s lump of a clitoris.


Danielle regarded the message from Jason with a look of distaste, as if confronted by a loathsome smell; she had not seen him (or the other asshole) since Sunday, but he had sent her several degrading messages, including some pictures from her weekend abuse; she had cooperated by replying as directed; agreeing by text that she was a slut, that she needed to be ‘fucked hard’, that she enjoyed being used by them, etcetera. The usual male porn fantasy, she pondered, making a face.

Today’s text was disturbing in that it directed her to Jason’s place this Friday evening. The message sent chills down her spine again, and she looked around to see if anyone had noticed her reaction.

No one had, it appeared.


Courtney had found the taxi driver, Gretchen, and now, at five-forty-five she was being taken by her to Bushwick. “You remember Hannah?” Courtney asked from the back.

“Tall, dark woman, kinda Arab-like, good-looking?” The blonde woman replied.

“Yes, that’s her. We’re going to her place.”

“Right. Thought I’d recognized the address; been a few weeks since I seen her tho’,” she related.

“She, um, Hannah, wants you to come up with me,” Courtney said, feeling a rush; clearly Hannah had something planned.

Gretchen locked eyes with Courtney through the rear-view mirror; she smiled. “Sounds good,” and she gave a thumbs up.


At a few minutes to six, Gena stood to answer the intercom, and in three minutes, Claire Butler was

coming into the room. Slave-Julie was kneeling on the floor; her hands were tied together and she held them over her head, palms together in an Egyptian-like stance. Rather than a breast harness, Mistress Gena had bound cream-colored cord tightly around each breast, and even though it had only been a few minutes, the bulging brown flesh was turning a reddish-purple color beneath the coffee-tones.

“Ah, I see our whore is ready.” Claire noted, feeling that rise of power. It surprised her that she enjoyed punishing this woman; see seemed like a nice enough lady; but it simply was because of who she was married to; mostly.

“Yes, her mistress is out and we have the evening to enjoy ourselves with her. I think she needs to know her place.”

“Very good,” Claire smiled, removing an old table tennis paddle and a wide hairbrush from her bag.


Gretchen parked her cab and she and Courtney proceeded up the stairs, with Gretchen casting a glance at Courtney’s thin dress and smiling.

They entered, greeted by an also smiling Hannah, who also commented that it had been awhile since she’d seen Gretchen. They were now in Hannah’s modest living room and Courtney was ordered to strip, put on her collar and kneel. “Do you have a few minutes?” Hannah asked.

“A few, Mistress Hannah I’m guessing. What did you have in mind?”

“Courtney’s my slave tonight. I thought for your, uh, tip she could go down on you. I know you like playing both sides and I remember you’re good with DATY.”

Both women chuckled, then Gretchen settled into an armchair and Courtney kissed the black loafers the woman was wearing, before Gretchen stood and slid her jeans down and off, then the thong, revealing a curling mass of reddish, blonde curls. “Come to Mama,” Gretchen smiled, grasping a handful of red hair and bringing Courtney’s face into her ‘Y’. “Dine away, Slave-girl. I have actually fantasized on this,” she smiled, leaning back in the chair.


Dr. White carefully placed his paper napkin over the remains of his meal, then took his tray to the side counter and sorted everything into its proper place. The meal, at the campus cafeteria, had been mediocre as expected; the coffee, which he now refilled his cup with, was watery, but still he was enjoying this; some time on his own.

Back at his table he scrolled though the collection of pictures sent from ‘the adventure’; he’d need to start transferring them to his computer, there were so many. The kids looked to be having the time of their lives, doted on by two sets of grandparents. That was fantastic, but also great for him, to just be by himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he could just sit alone and not have to be in contact with someone or responsible for someone or needed by someone.

He pondered on relationships as he sat. He definitely enjoyed Claire, enjoyed being with her very much, in every aspect of the word. What to do, what to do? She was staying at ‘a girlfriend’s’ place tonight, so he would be sleeping alone. He was okay with that, more than okay, really. Having a bed totally to yourself was kind of a luxury as a parent.

He thought of Julie; he still cared for her, deeply; yet he was quite okay with her relationship with this young woman, surprising as that was. But he had been okay with her affairs, actually, all of which he knew of. He sipped his lukewarm coffee and smiled.

He was a lucky man, he pondered.


Hannah raised her hips, allowing her slave to breathe. Courtney sucked in air before Hannah pulled off the nipple clips and applied her warm mouth to the rigid,

pink stubs as blood flowed back into them, causing both pain and pleasure and a cry of release from Courtney.

Mistress Hannah had tied her slave to her bed, something Courtney would have fought frantically not that long ago. But the skillful dominant had teased and manoeuvered her slave to a place where pleasure, and not her past, was foremost in her mind. At this moment, Courtney could feel another orgasm near, and she wanted it. She had managed to lose herself in her servitude; Hannah had eased her in like a hand into a glove. She had directed Courtney to concentrate on her desire, like a missile honing to its target.

And unlike Courtney, who simply accepted the devotion of people who wished to please her, because they wanted to be part of this beautiful woman’s life, both Hannah and Gena were skilled in observing. They clearly liked their own pleasure, no doubt, but they were keen at monitoring their submissive’s experience, as well.

If Hannah were a more sympathetic person in general, her slaves would most likely have stayed, as she was very effective at making them feel very, very good. But her demands, her hard personality, eventually drove them away.

For today, however; for this moment, Courtney-slave was completely immersed, swallowed up by what she felt and what she wanted, which right now was to please her mistress and earn her reward; a circle within a circle.


Gena, Claire and Slave-Julie were lying together on Courtney’s bed; Claire and Gena against each other, their slave with her face against the triangle of dark hair sitting just above Gena’s furrow and puffy labia. All three were relaxed and content; two hours of satisfying sex will do that.

There had of course also been the spanking and the humiliation of the one by the other two. That had been satisfying as well; with the slave tied to the standing frame and gagged, Claire had used the hair brush and paddle vigorously. When the slave was finally released she admitted that she that was disgusting, she was scum, dirt and only worthy of licking other women’s feet or their asses.

It had been fantastic, and Claire had felt the ecstasy of power at the end of the session, when she had the wife of her love on her knees, mouth open, before she spat into it, then murmured “You’re very welcome, Slave.”

She could understand desire, she had desired Dr. White long before that desire was satisfied, but she could not understand this; this acceptance of humiliation; this degradation.

And it did something, within her. Claire wanted to abuse Julie White (she did enjoy the lesbian sex); having power over this particular woman was what made…things, so wonderful. What to do next? That was the question.

Gena had suggested installing a camera in the White’s bedroom, so that the slave could be forced to watch the love-making.

“You could do that?” Claire had asked, greatly excited by the idea.

“You bet,” Gena had winked, and had actually called someone she knew about it right then.

“We still need to find a way to have the slave suck Chris’s cum from me.”

Gena had smiled and nodded.


“Hey, Jase, so I’m good for Friday. I can get there for six-thirty.”

“That works. I got some steaks. Let’s have a bbq and enjoy our ‘Mexican’,” Jason laughed.

“Yeah, I like that. You know, uh, I invited Denise, hey? She agreed ‘cuz she thinks I’m gonna sign some docs or shit. She’ll have a little surprise,” Kyle

chuckled darkly. “I’ve still got some ‘R’, I’ll slip half a tab in her wine and then we’ll have some fun.”

Jason laughed too. “Don’t take this wrong, Dude, but I always wanted to bang Denise.”

Kyle laughed at that, “Doesn’t surprise me, ya’ horny fucker. Well, Friday you can bang her like a rapper, you know, if things go as planned.”

They both laughed.


Slave-Julie was now lying again inside the folding cage in Courtney’s room, her hands tied loosely in front. Gena and Claire, night time preparations finished, lay together again, now in Gena’s large bed. “This is nice,” Claire murmured as they were lightly stroking each other as they lay closely, in spite of the warmth of the day now passed.

“You haven’t been with women much, hmmmm?” Gena murmured back.

“Ummmm, not until this year, if you can believe that. Got married young and had a baby and got a job. Had, well, still have, an asshole of a husband who thought he owned me, so I didn’t do much else but work and then go home and uh, work, if you understand.”

Gena chuckled. It was not her experience, but she certainly understood. “And this whole slave-thing is new, right?”

Claire snorted, “I’ll say. My God, if my high school pals could see me slappin’ our slave’s ass, well, I don’t know…”

Gena chuckled again and fondled one of Claire’s hefty breasts. “It must be weird, what’s happenin’ with your boss and his wife. You’re sleepin’ with him and givin’ it to her?”

“Just blows my mind, Miss Gena,” Claire said, grinning. “I’m surprised at myself, what I want to do to the poor woman.”

Gena gently tugged a large, pink nipple and Claire moaned softly. “Yeah, I noticed that,” she smiled. “But I think it’s what the bitch needs,” Gena added, speaking like a dominant, without rancor.

“I don’t get it,” Claire said quietly, “Why someone wants to be abused…”

“Yeah…” Gena said quietly, before she moved down and sucked first one breast, then the other, before kissing gently up Claire’s throat to her mouth, where they both kissed hungrily, Claire’s hand moving down between Gena’s thighs, before separating, “…different strokes for different folks, for sure. Anything you sorta have in your kink bag that you’d like to do to her?” Gena asked.

“Really? Claire asked, wondering again at this whole ‘scene’.

“Yeah, sure. The woman needs usin’; Miss Courtney’s too careful or somethin’. Julie-slave slut needs a shoe on the back of her neck as she licks the floor, but Courts doesn’t seem to get that. Our slave’ll get tired of sweet Courtney before long, my opinion.”

“Hmmm, that’s interesting,” Claire stated. “Well, I’d like to, um, pee on her,” she said quietly.

Gena laughed, “That’s the sprit. But it’s piss.”


“Piss on her. We’ll piss on her tomorrow, both of us. Little girls pee, we piss.”

“Oh, God. This is nuts.” Claire chuckled. “But I love it.”


Mistress Hannah had allowed her slave to sleep with her in her bed, on the condition that her wrists were bound. Courtney had accepted that, and the two lay together now, spooning, with Courtney’s hips against Hannah’s pelvis.   

“Admit it, you like this,” Hannah said into Courtney’s hair.

Courtney responded by pushing her hips against her mistress. “I like lots of things; I just don’t know what I want.” Courtney murmured.

Hannah reached up and gently grasped her partner’s naked breast. “I don’t believe you; I think you know exactly what you want; you just won’t admit it.”

After a few moments, Courtney replied, “What do you want, Mistress Hannah?” moving her hips as Hannah fondled her now erect nipple.

Hannah snuffed and squeezed the nipple a little harder, but Courtney did not object tonight; the relationship had changed. Tonight Hannah had spanked Courtney more than before, reddening her ass quite nicely. She had placed strong clamps on Courtney’s nipples and labia and had brought her to climax using pleasure and pain. “You like me punishing you now, don’t you?”

Courtney lay, feeling the heat spread though her; had she lied to herself all these years? There was no point in lying now, Gena was right; she needed to be honest. “Yes,” she said, choking slightly.

When she tried to turn over to face Hannah, the woman stopped her, saying, “Stay on your side, Slave; don’t move.” Hannah climbed out of the bed and Courtney heard a drawer open and then Hannah was busy with something. In a moment, the bed sagged as the larger woman crawled back in. Courtney then jerked slightly as Hannah’s fingers were against her labia, spreading some lotion.

In a moment, Courtney felt the head of a dildo begin to enter her from behind and she tried to move, but Hannah reached around and held her, “Stay; be still, stay.” The strap-on phallus entered easily, and in a moment Hannah was pumping systematically, and Courtney was arching her back to accept the intrusion.

Hannah kissed the side of Courtney’s face and pulled aggressively on the nipple, “Say it.” Hannah commanded, but Courtney simply grunted with the thrusts, “Say it, Slave. Say fuck me, Mistress. Say it…”

Hannah pulled back and held, with Courtney’s panting mixed now with sobs. Then Hannah began to gently rock, the phallus sliding in and out in a steady rhythm. “F-fuck.” Courtney said, “Oh God, oh God oh God, mmmmmmmm, oh please, please, please. Please fuck me. Please. Please fucking fuck me, Mistress. Oh Fuck! Unnnnnnggg…”

Hannah began now to pound with urgency, and in a few moments Courtney cried out, a long, undulating cry of pleasure, legs quivering.

And then they both lay still, breathing hard, tears slowly sliding down Courtney’s face as she kissed the hands of her mistress, the rubber cock still embedded within her.


As the jet banked, Angel commented to Abigail sitting in the window seat. “That’s Paris, my little love.”

“Yeah,” Abigail murmured, not ready to be happy.

Angel considered, then decided to speak, “You know, your grans have said we’re going back to Scotland, and the farm, before we go home.”

The decision was a secret, but Angel could hold it no longer, the little girl’s stubborn unhappiness too hard to take. “I can see Star-shine again,” Abigail exclaimed, a big smile now on her pretty face.

“You mean, um, Charlie?” Angel asked.

“Charlie’s a stupid name,” Abigail said without emotion, “I call her Star-Shine.”

Angel sat and watched as the city grew with their descent, “You know, um, Star-Shine is a boy horse, hmmmm?” She said quietly.

“Phifff,” Abigail replied, as if this meant nothing. “I think she’s a princess horse,” she said with finality.

Angel nodded and squeezed the girl’s hand. She knew who was a princess.


Slave-Julie knelt in the shower; she had not even been allowed to use the toilet yet this morning, her mistresses telling her they wished to do something with her first. Claire stepped into the shower and squatted slightly, then, after a tentative couple of squirts, began sending a stream of urine onto the breasts of the kneeling slave. After gauging her aim, Claire moved the stream upwards until it was striking Slave-Julie’s throat.

Feeling her ‘reservoir’ emptying, Claire said, “Open your filthy mouth, Whore.”

Closing her eyes, Slave-Julie obeyed, and the last of Claire’s morning piss went into her mouth. She held it, waiting for commands. “You may spit it out, Whore.” After her slave and obeyed, Mistress Claire pulled the kneeling figure forward and used the woman’s face to wipe herself with, ending by spitting on it.

“Stay where you are, Bitch and open your mouth,” Gena commanded, as Claire stepped out and she stepped in. Squatting close to the kneeling form, Gena directed her stream also onto the breasts, and then into the mouth, with the urine flowing down the sides of Slave-Julie’s face. Gena did not command her slave to spit anything out before she too used the face to clean herself.

Julie however did not swallow the odorous liquid, but let it dribble out as she cleaned off the inner and outer lips of her mistress’s sex. Gena had her slave remain kneeling for a few moments before she turned on the water. After Slave-Julie had washed herself, Claire stepped back in and the slave then worked industriously to scrub down both the women.

She was then allowed to squat in the shower and urinate, as her mistresses watched, commenting on how disgusting and worthless she was, Gena with that same curious smile on her face and Claire, with a look of triumph.

And Gena had arranged to have three cameras installed in the White’s home. It would not be hard as Claire now had her own key.


With the accuracy of an experienced hand, Mistress Hannah brought the strap down smartly on her slave’s sex, raised invitingly, as a pillow lay under the woman’s hips; her legs were spread wide and bound as were her wrists. A ball gag muffled slightly the cry, but the clear slap of leather on skin brought a smile to the dominant’s face.

Since the break-through last night, Hannah did not intend to let this development recede at all. After tying her slave down, she had pushed a vibrating egg into the wet vaginal hole, before pressing a small, black butt plug into the objecting, tight anus. Her slave’s day with her would end at six, and she planned to use her time well; all of it.

Mistress Hannah regarded her work with a smile; Courtney’s labia, so much thinner and tighter than her own, were now swollen and red, begging for more abuse. She grabbed them roughly and twisted the flesh back and forth as her slave rolled and moaned. She bent forward and gently sucked the puffy flesh, before aggressively tonguing the bump of the clit, now also engorged with blood. Her slave moaned and raised her hips up and down.

“Hmmmm, what does my sweet bitch want, hey?” Hannah asked sliding up to stroke her slave’s face and kiss around the gagged mouth. “Does my slave wish to be fucked?” Hannah asked, licking Courtney’s face from her chin to her forehead.

Courtney nodded her blind-folded head and made affirmative noises, which made Hannah chuckle. She pulled the ball-gag from the lovely mouth, asking, “What do you want, Slave.”

“Ohhh, ummmmm, oh Jesus…Jesus, Jesus…” Courtney moaned.

“Tell me, Slave. You need to beg; you know that. Slaves beg for their pleasure.”

“Oh please, please Mistress. Please fuck me. Unnnnggg, oh fuck, please…”

Hannah undid the straps and removed the egg and the blind-fold, “On your knees, horny bitch.” Courtney slid off the bed and got on all fours, then followed her mistress into the living room. “Crawl to that desk,” Hannah commanded, pointing to the corner.

Courtney crawled there, her buttocks making a compelling picture as she moved sinuously across the hardwood floor. “In the bottom drawer,” Hannah directed, and Courtney soon retrieved a strap-on harness complete with a dildo, already fastened in place.

“Put it in your mouth and bring it to me, Slave.”

Courtney did as commanded and soon was placing the rig at her mistress’s feet. Hannah pulled her robe apart and spread her long legs. “Prepare me, Slut.”

Courtney licked the thick labia and then within, with devotion, spreading the fleshy folds open to find the inner pink. Hannah then had her suck the plastic stub that she then slid inside herself, before buckling up the harness. Next she had Courtney lick and suck the phallus proper. This particular rig featured a very realistic looking penis complete with a scrotum.

“Good, Slut, you are almost worthy of this. Turn with your ass facing me. Good, now reach back and spread that pussy. Good, you really do want to be entered. I like seeing that butt plug in there, too. Good. Keep that pussy spread wide,” Hannah continued as she knelt and nudged the head of the plastic penis into the, once again, wet hole; there was no need for any lotion.

“Brace yourself, Bitch,” Hannah commanded as Courtney planted her hands on the floor and Hannah began to pound the lovely ass before her with her muscular abdomen. Grabbing a handful of red hair, she arched Courtney back. “Say it, Bitch. Say it.”

Between grunts, Courtney managed to get the words out, words she never imagined herself ever saying. “Fuck me. Unggh, mmm. F-fuck me, ohhh, fuck. Unnng, ung, mmmm, Fuck m-m-me, ohhhh…”

(End of Chapter 15)

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 14 Was It More Important To Love

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 14

Was It More Important To Love, Or To Be Loved?

“How’s that?” Marcie asked the third photographer, the other two having already packed their gear.

“Great, thanks,” she replied with a grin. “All good.” She turned and grabbed her bag while Courtney stepped down off the raised platform and the lighting guy shut down the spotlights.

Marcie smiled at her, “Well, that was an intense couple of hours, hey girl?”

“Yeah, you got that right; but loved some of the outfits.”

“Pick one; take it,” Marcie said. “I’ll go now and cut you a check.”


Danielle Franca lay in her tub, soaking. Jason had finally released her this morning and she had now been in the water for almost two hours. This after showering for thirty minutes; some things however just won’t wash away.

As Danielle soaked, she ruminated; she had a couple of friends who owned guns; two for certain. If she borrowed a gun, she could take out Jason, and then delete all the files on his computer. But would she really be able to shoot someone, no matter how angry or desperate she was?

It was more likely she would just turn the gun on herself; leave a note implicating the two bastards, maybe even send out some tweets; shame them on social media. Let everyone know what fucking, loser bastards they were; then end it.

She climbed from the tub and made her way to the medicine cabinet; she took two more Tylanol and then found her warmest pajamas. Even though it was almost July, she felt cold.

Lying on her couch, she knew she could not take her own life. She’d have to find another way to deal with these …guys. Jason had given her a cheap cell phone, saying they would be in touch.

Maybe she’d see about getting a handgun, just the same.


As Julie and Christopher sat in the back of the taxi on their way home from JFK airport, both were silent and into their own thoughts. Julie was dealing with the conflicting emotions of a hard sadness at watching the plane fly off with her children and parents on board; although she had gone back to work as early as possible after they were born, she had never been separated from Noah and Abigail for more than a weekend before.

This emotion, which had surprisingly brought her to tears, was now being balanced against the rising arousal as she thought of being with her mistress; as they drove in silence, she was picturing herself on her knees naked, wearing only her slave collar. She could see her tongue as it roamed over her mistress’s shoes or her bare feet. She could feel the sting of the paddle as it came down, as it surely would, on her bare ass.

Her things were packed and she had texted her mistress; as soon as they were home she would grab her bag and leave.


Hannah read the Facebook message with interest.

After Courtney had related her assault, Hannah had gradually managed to squeeze some more information out of the reluctant woman.

So now she knew why, earlier, Courtney had needed the information on one Kyle Gilbertson; and now Hannah herself was interested. She liked revenge; it was an emotion she could understand. Kyle, even on Facebook, appeared to be something of a douche. The exchange

Hannah was reading included a guy named Jason and they were ha-ha-ing over some weekend fun and games. Hannah was interested in the comments about, ‘love the personalized DVD bro’.

That sounded like code for porn; homemade-style.


Julie was to take a cab to Gena’s and it was waiting for her as she came out of her building, her small case rolling behind her. As she sat in the back, wearing her light dress, breast harness and shoes with French lace, thigh-high stockings (no panties), she again felt exposed and aroused. Her mistress had stated clearly she was not to touch herself apart from toilet duties, for the entire weekend, so of course it was all she could think of as she traveled.

Even though it was not far, the drive seemed to take forever, but soon she was walking up to the building’s entrance and pressing the buzzer, her heart skipping when the sultry, seductive voice responded. The elevator ride was made alone and Julie walked briskly down the carpeted hallway to Gena’s door, removing her dress and getting on all fours before it.

Several minutes passed, intentionally of course, before her mistress opened the door and dropped the slave collar in front of her. When it was on, Julie was passed the leash, which she attached, handing the loop end up. Miss Courtney then led her slave into the living room where Claire Butler was waiting on a couch.

The first order of business was placing Julie over the end of one couch as both Mistresses took turns paddling the round, beige ass until Julie was squirming and crying out and the cheeks were glowing. Julie then was placed on her knees to clean both women’s shoes.

As her devoted tongue glided against the leather and her lips pressed down with dedication, the slave listened to the women discussing the sex Julie’s husband and Claire would be having tonight.

“I always start by sucking him; that always gets him nice and hard,” Claire crooned.

Courtney chuckled, “I’ve seen pictures; he sure likes those plump lips of yours, loving his, um, shaft.”

Claire nodded, “And then it’s in my pussy, usually from behind.” She looked down at the dark head, bobbing in its duty, before continuing. “We both like that position; Christopher likes to slap my ass and squeeze my breasts.” She winked at the grin on Courtney’s face.

“You’ve got great breasts, Miss Claire,” Courtney added. “But he usually doesn’t cross the ol’ finish line in your v-jj, hmmmm?”

Now Claire chuckled, “No, he loves being in my ass. Loves it. And I’m good with it too. He almost always comes when he’s rump-ridin’. Apparently his slut wife was unable to satisfy him, that way,” she winked.

Both women laughed at this; Courtney thought again, though, of why any woman would want a man’s erection in her butt hole; she would never understand it. She looked into Claire’s eyes. “I just wish our slave-girl could be right there, to watch and to eat you out just after hubby-dear comes, her tongue in your ass, licking up the goo. That I’d love to see.”

On her knees, Julie was imagining all the scenes being described, feeling an odd mix of emotions. There was a hint of jealousy, but so mild that it really didn’t count. How could that be?

There was humiliation, of course, at being discussed like this, which actually turned her on, especially when Courtney’s alluring voice was speaking. Why, why, why? Why had she not faced these feelings before?

And there was more than a pinch of apprehension. What if Christopher decided he wanted it this way, all the time, what would happen? Julie’s thoughts were interrupted as Courtney lifted her by her hair and placed her face directly in front of Miss Claire’s vagina.

“Ask Mistress Claire if our worthless slave could please lick her pussy,” Courtney directed.

Julie dutifully repeated the command and Claire chuckled and brought Julie’s face between her thighs. Julie’s enthusiastic tongue soon had Claire moaning and gently moving her hips. “Get me nice and wet for Christopher,” Claire purred and Julie murmured a response, her face pressed into the warm folds of the woman’s labia.

Claire pulled Julie’s face away for a moment and had the woman look up at her. “Does Christopher like fucking this pussy?” she asked, a smile on her face.

Julie suddenly felt small and inconsequential; this woman was clearly her superior. She kissed the inside of both thighs and then said quietly, “Yes, Mistress Claire, he loves fucking your pussy.” That was true.

Claire paused, holding the head by its hair. “Would you like to watch us fuck?” She asked.

Julie looked up into the smiling, mocking eyes and accepted what she was. “Yes, I would love to watch, to be made to watch, and then to clean you afterwards.” It was incredible, because she was speaking the absolute truth.

Claire shook her head in wonder and looked at Courtney. “We need to make that happen,” Courtney said with a nod. Claire chuckled and wrapped her legs around the head, as Julie went back to her work.


Claire had been a little surprised by the change in arrangements, and that she was now ‘allowed’ to sleep with Christopher in the master bedroom, but Courtney had given her a heads-up that the idea had been discussed and Dr. White had confirmed that indeed Julie had thought it only fair. As she moved her mouth up and down her man’s glistening shaft, Claire, too, thought it was fair, very fair.

Earlier in the evening Slave-Julie had pleasured Claire’s sex with her mouth, and now Claire was doing the same to Julie’s husband. Fair indeed, in a weird way, and good for her on both ends.

Back at Gena’s, Courtney had left Julie tied on the bed, blindfolded and with plugs in her ears and dildos in both her nether holes; she would be denied much of her sensory options at the discretion of her mistress, but still allowed arousal.

Meanwhile, with Gena crashed on her bed after her busy time away, Courtney sat with a glass of chardonnay on one couch. Her cell, always close by, buzzed with an incoming, and Courtney smiled when she saw who it was from.

“Hey Bitch, back to being a dom of sorts? Life’s sweet?” Hannah had texted.

“You’d know, dom of doms,” Courtney replied, aware of her response.

“Admit it, you miss me,” Hannah shot back.

Courtney paused; she could text something flippant, but she reconsidered. “You know I like being with you, H. I’ve told you that. Even if you scare me. I think you’re dangerous and sometimes…like, mean.”

Hannah pondered this. “Ok, I’ll give you that. But I also give you, you Courtney the woman, a safe place to like let your guard down. It’s tough being a dom all the time, babe. Who else can do that for you?”

That’s true, Courtney thought, really true, but she countered, wanting more, “How so, wise one?”

It was a few moments before Hannah’s response buzzed. “My opinion is, like, that there aren’t many bitches around like me that can so put you in your place, hey? That takes all the pressure off you, for a little while, sweet Courts. Sets you free. And, I know you like serving me, just on its own.”

Courtney called the number back this time, heart beating again, “Okay, so Miss Philosophical, what’s it mean?”

Hannah chuckled, “Hey, good to hear my slave’s voice. It means, you can find comfort under my care; and we like each other, physically anyway. So it works both ways. Physically and, emotionally I guess. Or it would, if you would let go.”

Once again, Courtney felt her pulse quicken; maybe Hannah was getting too close to…things. Or maybe it was just her desire. “Let go of what?” She asked quietly.

Moments passed as the two women sat in silence, phones to their ears. “Your fear, Courts. The next step for you is…trust, and letting go of your fear.”


Christopher wrapped an arm around Claire’s shoulders, clasping a breast. Why was he okay with fondling these breasts but not his wife’s? Weird. Claire gently placed her hand over his and pressed her rear, which he had again humped vigorously less than an hour ago, against him, feeling snug.

Christopher kissed the back of the woman’s neck and then, with a feeling of shock, stopped himself before he uttered three words that he would never be able to take back.

“Night, my dear,” was what he did say.

Claire pressed his hand against her breast. “Night,” she murmured.


Wednesday afternoon and Courtney and her slave were returning to the unit from a visit to a coffee shop. Courtney, who had worked a regular job for the last five years, which meant getting up and going somewhere most mornings, had begun to feel ‘antsy’ in the apartment. Hannah’s words, ‘it’s tough being a dom all the time’, had come back to her.

This early afternoon, she’d had some fun seeing how far she could go with exposing Slave-Julie in public. Sitting at the back of the room, a fairly busy place with over half the tables occupied, she’d had her girl pull off her tiny thong and sit with her legs apart when an interesting female presented an opportunity for exposure. But apart from some startled glances and an embarrassed smile or two, nothing else happened; other than turning her slave on.

Courtney knew her girl was ready for some abuse when they got home, but she decided to lock her instead inside the folding cage-structure they now had, letting her lay in need; hands tied in front and blindfolded.

Slouching onto a couch she was soon joined by Gena; the two really hadn’t talked much, now on the third day since the woman’s trip.

“So, you’re looking a little…I dunno, something,” Gena snickered.

Courtney regarded the other woman, “My life’s changed and I’m, um, adjusting, I guess,” she replied, “Why’d you ask?”

Gena continued with the smirk on her face, “Well, drinking wine in the middle of the afternoon tells me somethin’, Miss Princess,” she said.

Courtney snorted at this and sipped her wine, saluting the other woman by raising her glass, “Touché, or whatever they say,” she smiled. “I just feel, oh…”

“Restless?” Gena supplied.

“Why do I think you’re trying to tell me something, my friend?” Courtney arched her brows.

Gena sat playing with her necklace. When she spoke, she was looking down at it. “I talked to Hannah.”

Courtney regarded the top of Gena’s head, with its thick, black hair. “Yeeeessss?” She drawled, although she actually was curious.

Gena looked up, her eyes twinkling, “She told me that the two of you had…hooked up.”

Courtney sipped some more wine, “So?”

Gena laughed out loud. “C’mon Courtney, loosen up. I’m not writing a book. So you’re trying out some shit, I’m all over that. In fact, I’m a good, whadd’ya call it? Resource, yeah, you know I’ve got experience, right?”

Courtney put down her glass and looked into Gena’s eyes. The woman did have experience, much more than she did, but also training. Gena had spent time with people who were ‘in the business’, or ‘into the scene’ to a far greater extent than Courtney had; her own experience had been much more random and personal, like how she became involved with Julie. It was by chance for the most part, with someone who was not, consciously, looking for a sexual partner. At least not one like this.

“Okay Dr. Padilla, what’s the diagnosis?” Courtney smirked.

Gena tilted her head to one side, “What’s this, day three of your slave marathon, and already you’re …restless. Meanwhile you’re in some kind of denial over what you feel about Hannah. At some point you need to ask what do you want, girl. You’re all over the freakin’ place.”

Courtney sat silently; she had no argument against what Gena was saying, because what the woman was saying was correct. Despite her personal feelings toward Julie White, she was already feeling a little boxed in. Having an actual slave was a lot like having a dog; you were responsible, as long as the pet was in your care.

Gena broke into Courtney’s thoughts, “I’ll give ya’ my advice, on love anyway,” she grinned. “I don’t think you can have both, you know, a loving master and slave relationship, unless it’s really just a kinky diversion to spice things up, and an actual love relationship. To my, um, eye, your girl is a true submissive. And she wants a mistress, especially now that she’s come to realize what she is. But she has a family, Courts. I can’t see this, uh, ending well.”

After a moment Courtney murmured, “So what would you do, Mistress Gena?”

Gena sniffed. “I’d sort one thing out at a time. Take a day, today, tomorrow, and submit to Hannah; no conditions with her other than a safe word. Be her slave and see what it’s really like, to give up control, to put your trust totally in another. Submit and let her do what she wants to you. Then like, uh, evaluate it, honestly.”

Courtney sat in silence again, feeling a weird mix of emotions. She still maintained some uncertainty about Hannah, even though she could no longer deny the desire. “And what do I do with my girl, I can’t just take her back home.”

Gena smiled. “No worries, Babe. I’ll take over that. Your girl needs a, um, firmer hand anyway, my humble opinion. She’ll be fine.”

Just then Courtney’s phone buzzed; it was Claire Butler.


Ab Ramos gently closed the door on his sleeping granddaughter, as Corinne Ramos came quietly down the hall. They were staying with friends of the Whites in a large and modernized home on a farm just outside of Ayr, Scotland and had spent a long day ‘with the horses’.

“She’s tired out, I’m sure,” Corinne murmured, thinking back on how hard it was to get the girl off her horse, finally.

“Oh my, yes, but I’m sure they’ll be up and ready to get at it again tomorrow,” her husband noted.

They had gone down to the ground floor and entered the spacious drawing room to find the home’s owners, the McGraws, having cake with the Whites.

“Aye, come an’ join us then,” Barclay McGraw called and the Ramoses found chairs and accepted cake, and the talk immediately moved to how many pictures had been sent back home today.

“Fifty-six,” Joyce White announced shaking her head, “But I guess we’ve kept things under control pretty well, hmmmm?” She smirked, and her audience nodded heads or tapped plates with spoons, everyone agreeing they had shown remarkable restraint.

Then Joyce stole a quick glance at her latest text; she read it twice, shook her head gently in amazement, and then deleted it, before accepting another piece of cake.


“Well, that’s interesting,” Courtney said after ending her call, “I guess Mistress Claire and the doctor are finding spending all day working together and all night, well, together, is maybe too much. She wonders if she can come here tonight.”

Gena laughed, “So there you are. When’s your next job?”

“Friday, one o’clock.”

“So call Mistress Hannah and see if she needs a girl to play with.”

Courtney snuffed. After a moment she asked, “Do you ever have any, um, submission fantasies?”

Gena sat with a smile. “No, but I know dominants who do. It’s not that unusual, especially around someone as intimidating as Queen Hannah. You like serving her, Courtney, I’ve seen it in your eyes.”

“My eyes?” Courtney asked, surprised. That was her trick.

“Yeah, you think you’re the only one who searches there? Like some brainy person said, the eyes have it, or some shit.”

Courtney sat, staring across at her ‘friend’.


“Sooooo, you’re okay with this?” Claire asked, looking anxiously up at her ‘boss’.

“Oh absolutely, my dear. This has been pretty intense, this twenty-four seven for us. I’m amazed we haven’t had any um, disagreements or, well, anything?” He smiled. “I have that course tonight and I was going to head over to the campus later this afternoon. I’ll just grab a bite there. You go have some break time. Everyone needs some time alone.”

Claire nodded, thinking her time was not going to be alone at all. The thought of abusing Julie White brought a grin to her face. “That’s the spirit.” Dr. White enthused at her smile.


“Mistress Hannah,” Courtney typed and paused; did she really want to do this? She sighed and continued, “Your slave wishes to speak to you.”

Hannah was at that moment watching a middle-aged woman struggling to get into a dress that was too small for her; she covered her mouth to hide her grin and then felt the buzz of her phone. She smiled when she saw who the sender was and then looked up at her customer. “We have that in one size up,” she said, mildly, her face expressionless.

In a few minutes the woman was secure in one dressing room and Hannah considered the request; why not push things? “My slave needs to be naked to speak to me. Send me a picture of your pussy.”

Courtney smiled at that and felt a twinge, well, a mild surge, she admitted to herself. She glanced over at her own slave, now untied and busy with her face between Gena’s thighs. Courtney went to her room and threw off her robe and tugged down her thongs. She sat on her bed and took the photo, then sent it off, smiling at her message, “I hope this pleases you.”

The timing was good, as the woman was satisfied with the look of the second dress and had returned to change. Hannah studied the picture; she liked Courtney’s tight, pink labia; very girlish. She would like it even better with a ring or two inserted through the lips, and a tattoo, preferably with her initials, sitting right beside the inviting cleft.

“Very good, obedient slave. You know I like obedience?”

Okay, Courtney told herself, that provoked a response. She smiled, shaking her head at the reversal of roles, but she had to admit this conversation was actually making her wet, and she wanted more. “I will be obedient, my mistress. I want to serve you. I really do, I’m not just pretending, if I may be so honest.”

She realized, even as she was typing this, that her pulse had increased; she also understood what this…disclosure, meant. But Hannah did something to her, there was no doubt; was this something she could control?

Hannah needed to deal with the sale before she could sit behind a screen and reply. She had made a decision; she had been ‘cute’ enough with Courtney this far; now she needed to know if this could go anywhere. “Okay, Whore, I will accept you, like this. Twenty-four hours, from six tonight to six tomorrow. Same conditions, your hands may be bound by me and you will accept my paddle.” She paused in thought. “Use that same cabbie, you know which girl, to get to my place. And have her come up with you. Do not be late. Your mistress.”

Courtney read the message over, then read it again. Nothing was surprising, not even the cab driver request; she knew which woman Mistress Hannah was talking about.

“I will be there for six, my mistress and be yours for the day.” She typed and pressed send, her hand, oddly, shaking slightly.

Hannah smiled, then added. “Btw, Whore, have Miss Gena lend you one of her breast harnesses; wouldn’t want those lovely tits to get all saggy.”

Courtney reached between her thighs; she bent her head forward, stifling a laugh. “Oh my God.” She murmured, then thought, Hannah? And Her?

She could not believe how wet she was.

“Oh. My. God.”

(End of Chapter 14)

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 13 And So It May Be

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 13 And So It May Be, That Beauty Matters More Than Morality

When Hannah came into the kitchen, Courtney was sitting at the table eating toast and looking at her phone.

“My cereal not ready? Hannah asked, looking meaningfully at the other woman.

Courtney smiled. “Slave’s day off,” she murmured, ignoring for the moment the warmth between her thighs that Hannah produced; it was getting worse, Courtney noted, and she was fighting it.

Hannah stood, contemplating. “Well, I guess I should be checking my place anyway,” she replied, getting a bowl from the cupboard and placing it on the counter. She turned, “Has my slave gone away for good or will she come back?” she asked, placing her hands on Courtney’s shoulders.

Courtney smiled again, still cautious with her exotic lover slash mistress, like one might be with a tamed panther, but wanting her touch none-the-less. “Ummmm, okay, I like being close to you, having sex with you, even serving you, Miss Hannah,” she smiled, “so I’ll like, be back, ummmm, just not today, okay?”

Hannah grabbed a box of cereal and poured some in her bowl, adding milk. She sat down across the table from Courtney and began to eat, thinking that the time wasn’t yet right to push this woman. She instead asked, “So what’s happening this weekend?”

Courtney put her phone down and regarded the woman, finding it hard to meet her gaze. “Well, my slave-girl is busy with family shit, but then I have her for almost two weeks after that, so we’ll see. I don’t have any party plans, but I do have one job and Gena gets back Sunday as well.”

The two sat now in silence, each finishing their food. Hannah stood, walked to the sink and rinsed her bowl, then hesitated. “So, why won’t you let me fuck you with a strap-on?” She asked (conversationally, like it was the sort of thing you asked someone all the time) while putting her bowl in the dishwasher.

Courtney looked up at the attractive but still intimidating woman, heartbeat increasing again. “You’ve had that on your mind for a bit, hmmmm?” She said quietly; Hannah snorted and nodded her head, while drying her hands.

Courtney sighed, then plunged in, “Well, there is a story if you must know, my dominant Bitch-queen.” She paused, then murmured, “When I was a young teen I was gang-raped. How’s that? There were four of them and they took turns; before I passed out, ‘cuz they kept feeding me bourbon, and probably after as well, an’ they used other things to fuck me with. Beer bottles mostly, a whisky bottle, the handle of a rake and the handle of one’s guy’s knife, that I remembered. Who knows what else.”

Courtney paused and collected herself. Hannah stood in silence, before Courtney continued, quietly, “So that was kind of it for me with hard things shoved in my pussy. Nuthin’ bigger than a finger, thanks just the same.”

Hannah now looked into Courtney’s face and her hard gaze softened slightly; she nodded her head slightly. “That sucks, extra large. Shit, I’d knife the bastards when I got a chance; cut their junk and watch ‘em bleed…”

Courtney grimaced. “Didn’t have a chance. My mom got paid off; took the money and a promotion and we headed outta’ Dodge. Never saw the bastards again.”

Hannah gathered her light jacket and bag, then put on her shoes and headed for the door. Suddenly she stopped and turned. “Ummmm, that question you asked, like, what the fuck?”

“You mean…”

“About did I ever kill anyone. That’s some deep shit, my slut, and like outta’ nowhere.” They regarded each other for a moment and Courtney looked away. “The question wouldn’t have anything to do with, um…your past, would it?”

Courtney looked up and the two held their gaze; despite Courtney’s reservations, there was no denying a connection here, with this hard woman. She shrugged her shoulders and murmured, “Maybe.”

Hannah nodded and reached out for the door knob; she opened the door and turned to face Courtney. “Well, the answer’s yes, for the record or whatever-the-fuck they say.”

Courtney nodded, “Makes sense.” She said quietly, feeling a pang as Hannah left.

She really wasn’t surprised, at either the answer or the feeling.


Christopher and Julie had agreed; they would spend the weekend doing things with the kids before the two youngsters flew off on their big adventure. Starting today, Friday, with a trek through Central Park, spending most of the day there.

“It’s amazing how long it’s been since we came here last,” Christopher exclaimed, as they passed the Alice in Wonderland statue on their way to the Belvedere Castle.

Julie agreed, “I think because it’s so close, we just take it for granted,” she added, thinking that inside the castle she would be able to send a text to her mistress.


Kyle Gilbertson entered the bar and looked around. It was a spacious, L-shaped room with a small stage at one end and tables scattered without pattern throughout. The place was crowded and poorly lit, and Kyle began to prowl to his left, away from the stage where a band was doing a fairly decent (and loud) homage to Grunge.

He spotted Jason sitting with another guy and a girl; the girl looked ‘Mexican’ to Kyle’s mind; Jason and the other dude were both white.

“Hey Kyle,” Jason called and stood to shoulder slam the  larger man; before turning and saying, “this is Benny and Danielle; my old pal Kyle.” A harried-looking server came to the table then and took orders for vodka shooters and four buds, and Kyle grabbed a chair and joined the group, casting a quick but appraising glance at Danielle’s tight jeans.

“Still charging way too much for imported rides?” Jason asked laughing.

“Always, and you still over-charging folks to tell them what dumb-ass decisions they made on the market?”

Everyone laughed and then the drinks arrived. “Friday night,” Kyle exclaimed raising his shooter, and the small group all saluted.


“Mistress, I’m thinking of you,” Julie typed as she sat on a couch; Christopher was already crashed, still in his clothes, lying beside Noah in the boy’s room. Julie would see to Abigail soon, but after this.

It was several minutes before the reply message chirped, “As you should, sweet-slave. And I miss you, but you have your responsibilities. Soon we will be together and you will receive your punishment and your reward.”

“Thank you, Mistress, I will cherish them,” Julie typed and lay her head back. Her children, her flesh and blood, were flying away from her for almost two weeks, and yet it was her mistress who occupied her mind. Was it a type of illness, this desire? Why was she unable to resist?

But there was no point in wondering, or demanding answers. It was what it was. She had recently (finally) finished her fat novel; and while she had felt repulsed by what the character Phillip had done and believed, she had also experienced a deep comprehension. He had been prepared to sacrifice morality for what he called beauty; what Julie herself would call desire.

How much was she prepared to sacrifice? How much would anyone? She considered, heading down the hall.


“So why aren’t you coming with us, Mommy?” Abigail asked as Julie tucked the comforter under the girl’s chin. They had just spent a lot of time going over their day at the park and Julie was looking forward to crashing on the couch with a glass of wine.

“We’ve gone over this, Sweetie. Mommy and Daddy have jobs and stuff. But you and your brother are so lucky to have grammas and grandads who love you so and want to take you on an adventure.”

Abigail smiled and Julie turned toward the light switch. “Why doesn’t the plane fall down, Mommy? It’s big, you know,” the girl asked, her eyes large.

Julie smiled and tousled Abigail’s curly locks. “Yeah, I know. It’s kind of complicated, but I think you learn about flight in school when you get a little older. I’m surprised Noah hasn’t, um, explained things.”

Abigail made a face. “He did, but I got bored.”

Julie smiled and flicked the light. “Yeah, Sweet- cheeks, I know what you mean.”


Benny and Danielle turned out not to be ‘a couple’ and the man had hooked up with some friends and left. Jason had offered to give Danielle a ride home and she was seated now in the back of his Escape, with Kyle in the passenger seat; he had come by taxi, having sold off but one car in consideration of his impending divorce, but mostly because he had planned to drink.

“You should consider something a little more high-end than this,” Kyle scoffed.

“I like this just fine,” Jason laughed, then gave Kyle a look with a slight nod to the back, just as he pulled past a row of brown two-story townhouses to a little bungalow on the corner.

“What’s up, boys?” Danielle asked.

“This is my place; thought we could have a coffee; it’s only just after midnight.”

“I should really be getting home,” Danielle protested, but Jason and Kyle had already stepped out and Jason had opened the rear door.

“Aw, don’t be like some fucking ol’ wet blanket, Danny. Night’s still young. A coffee and a liqueur will top the evenin’ off jus’ fine.”

Reluctantly, Danielle eased herself out and they  started up the stairs.


Courtney padded aimlessly around the condo; she had to admit, she was bored; more than bored; restless. She’d watched some television; Gena had several packages, including Netflix, but it was past midnight and she was not tired and needed something. What she wanted was the sweet face of Julie-slave kissing its way up her thighs, but that could not happen. She did have the photo shoot on Sunday, but that was two days away; a gulf of time.

Courtney considered heading to a bar; it had been awhile, but she felt guilty at the thought of bringing a stranger back to Gena’s home. With a sigh she opened the message screen on her phone. “Dear Miss Hannah, how are you?” She typed, paused, and then hit send. With her luck, Hannah would be out on the town, hunting.

“Well, well, and who might this be?” Came the reply after a couple of minutes; Courtney could just picture the smug, attractive face.

She sighed and decided to swallow her pride; she really didn’t want to be alone, but that wasn’t the only reason. “It is Slave-girl Courtney, Miss Hannah,” she typed, feeling a growing arousal, before hitting send. She was very attracted to Hannah, had been from the moment they had met, but there was that something dangerous about the woman; but was that part of her attraction? This exchange was, however, already turning her on.

“Does my slave need to be used tonight?” Hannah replied, sitting on her couch, wearing only a thin negligee; a vibrator wand, set to low, pressed against her fleshy clitoris; her second joint lay smouldering in her ashtray; but this exchange was affecting her as well, making her feel even better than that.

Courtney felt a strong pull at the remark. She, the Queen of Cool, as someone had once called her, the one who broke hearts and ended affairs, was asking to be used? But she could not deny the arousal creeping through her; was this how it was with her own slave? Courtney had kept hidden all of that over the years. Since Ms. Martel, Courtney had tasted the other side of the dom/sub relationship occasionally. She had just never found anyone who could hold her.

She sighed and typed, “Yes, Miss Hannah, I wish to be with you tonight.” She paused, then added “Please”, smiling at the reaction she knew this would bring, and then sent the message off.

Hannah sat for a moment, pressing the wand against her, feeling her juices beginning. She would really (really) enjoy having Courtney’s lovely mouth pressed against her, but she couldn’t be weak. Some voice within her was advising aggression. Since she was a very aggressive person anyway, that was not unusual.

She paused in consideration. “If I allow you to come over tonight, you need to agree to my rules,” she typed.

Courtney felt a warning twinge when she read this, but she could still agree or disagree; she pushed down her growing desire and then replied, “And what do you wish, Mistress Hannah?”

Hannah smiled at this; she knew Courtney could play her, but that was okay; this was all kind of a game between them anyway, at this point; could either one of them ever be a true slave? She never could, but if her reading of the lovely red-head was correct, the woman just needed the right push.

“Okay, Slave-girl; in my apartment you will be naked except for your slave collar; the bathroom door is not to be closed, ever; I can put nipple and labia clips on you, and I can spank you with my soft paddle. Agree, and you may come over now.”

Courtney read this and felt arousal; it was not unusual for dominants to seek out a stronger personality at certain times, as she had, because she wasn’t really a strong dom. She loved dominating mild women, like Julie, who could be opinionated socially but was by nature completely submissive.

Hannah was the most forceful woman Courtney had ever met, and there was a kind of sanctuary in being with her, on her knees before her; a place where Courtney would be safe. But was Hannah a person to put your faith or your trust in? To give yourself to?

What did it matter; Courtney mulled; she had her needs. “I agree, Mistress, as long as I may have a safe word.” She knew that the ‘soft paddle’ was more for stimulation than pain, so that was okay.

Hannah smiled again at this; she had no problem with safe words; even though she was self-centered and demanding, she was skilled at taking people to levels of pleasure; and safe words could get lost in passion.

Her demanding personality was doubtless the reason she had never kept anyone long. But that didn’t mean people didn’t enjoy their time with her; it could, as Courtney had found, be very enjoyable.

“How are you getting here, Slave?” Hannah typed.

“With my new big bucks, I’ll cab it over. You’re in Brooklyn, right? Mistress.”

“Yeah, Bitch. Bushwick.” She gave the address.

“Got it.”

“Oh, and wear the collar I left over there; and a cotton dress with knee socks; nothing underneath. Agreed?”

Courtney paused again; was she ready for this? “Agreed, Mistress Hannah,” Courtney typed, feeling hornier than she could remember. She went to get changed.

And where had she put that collar?


Danielle struggled but there was not much she could do; her hands were tied tightly behind her, at both the wrists and the elbows, and Jason had a grip on her face. “You bite me Bitch and I’ll hurt you so bad,” Jason warned as he forced his gloved hands into the corners of Danielle’s mouth, propping it open.

She shook her head and attempted to plead, but it was of no use. Kyle had his penis inches from her opened mouth and he began to urinate, directing the flow into Danielle’s unwilling orifice. As she sputtered and attempted to not drink the odorous liquid, both Jason and Kyle hooted with laughter.

“Jus’ like the old days, hey Kyle.” Jason enthused, as he bent Danielle forward and forced his erection into her from behind.

“Fer shure,” Kyle drawled, as he took some shots with his phone. “The good ol’ fuckin’ days, bro’.”


Courtney felt…exposed, on her ride to Hannah’s wearing what little she had agreed to and with the slave collar on, but it also aroused her. This was weird, she had to admit, but she was enjoying it. She knew that Gena had once hinted at ‘some fun’, but she felt no attraction to Gena whatsoever, except as a kind of friend. She was, on the other hand, attracted to both Julie and to Hannah, but for very different reasons.

She walked up the stairs of the building; two storeys, it looked like it housed three units. She pressed the middle bell and Hannah’s face was soon looking through the glass at her, smiling, before she opened the door. Attaching a leash to a ring on the black collar, she led Courtney up a second flight of stairs to her unit.

“It’s not, like luxury, like Gena the walking ATM, but it serves its purpose,” Hannah said, sitting on a wooden, straight-backed chair; she was still wearing her thin negligee. Courtney could see the outline of the black triangle of pubic hair and she suppressed a smile. She would be getting to that soon, no doubt.

“Remove your dress and crawl to me, Slave.” Hannah smiled, but even her smile held a hint of malice. “Oh, and what’s your safe word, my precious?”

Courtney looked up from her knees, “Love,” she murmured.

Hannah smiled, “Nicely played, my sweet pussy-girl. Now I want your lips on my feet. I’ll let you move on up, if you earn it.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Courtney purred, pressing her plump, pink lips against the soft skin of Hannah’s feet.

Three kisses and then a long, devoted lick using the whole tongue. She knew the drill.


“Yeah, I gotta roll,” Kyle said, looking at his imitation Rolex, “got a client coming in at eleven on a fuckin’ Saturday, and I need to get myself all purty,” he grinned. “Called me an Uber; the driver must be a total loser, workin’ this early.”

“Or late,” Jason chuckled, “No worries; jeez, it’s five, I’m gonna crash. I’ll just leave the bitch tied up an’ deal with her later.”

“Well, with all the pictures I downloaded to your laptop, I think she’ll keep her mouth shut. What did you say she was?”

“Youth counsellor, for the Catholics.”

Kyle guffawed, “Right. Some of those pictures would blow their ever-lovin’, religious minds, so I don’t think she’d risk that.”

Jason nodded as Kyle opened the front door. “Give me a call, hey?”

“Absolutely buddy, this was great. Happy huntin’ or whatever,” Kyle laughed as he went out into the early dawn, his ride just pulling up; he felt great. Being married had curtailed his sex life, but now that was changed. He planned to make up for lost time.

“So, I see you’re not wearing your collar? This slave-thing just comes and goes with you,” Hannah noted, leaning on the door frame to her galley-style kitchen.

Courtney gazed at her, “I need to go, Miss Hannah, so I’ve changed back to my…other identity.” She smiled.

“Like a super-hero, hey girl?”

“Absolutely,” Courtney smiled, coming over and wrapping her arms around Hannah’s tall frame. The night had been intense for her, for them, with Courtney allowing Hannah to do some things that previously had been off limits. When they finally drifted off to sleep, wedged against each other, it was three-thirty.

And now, with the digital clock on Hannah’s counter showing ten-twenty, Courtney needed to head off. “I’m hoping you’d drive me home, stern overlord,” Courtney murmured into Hannah’s thick, dark hair.

“Feeling a little under-dressed, hmmmm?” The woman replied.

Courtney chuckled, “It was okay coming over in the dark, but now, um, yeah.”

“You ready?” Hannah asked, and with Courtney’s nod, the woman left for her bedroom, returning in a minute dressed and holding her car keys. They headed out the back and through a small backyard to a car pad, climbing into Hannah’s two-thousand eleven Prius, and then they were off.


“You bastards,” Danielle spat out as she knelt, still naked, hands tied now in front, before Jason’s laptop.

She had just looked at over twenty pictures of herself in various and very graphic sexual poses, as well as a two-minute clip, that must have been shot after she became drunk, because she certainly looked to be cooperative and involved, as she was being fucked anally. The faces of the men abusing her were never shown, but she thought the body was ‘the jerk Kyle’s’.

“Hey, easy Bitch, we are giving you a choice. You wanna’ go to the cops, be our guest.” Jason stated flatly.

Danielle sat quietly, tears sliding slowly down her light brown face. Finally she asked through gritted teeth, “So, whaddya’ going to do with these?”

Jason chuckled darkly. “I thought your boss, em, Mr. Shipley, might like to see them,” Jason murmured. He had gone through Danielle’s phone and made a list of people, one who was clearly her boss.

Danielle looked up with alarm, “Don’t do that,” she said, feeling ashamed.

Jason looked down at the attractive girl, “You Mexican?” he asked.

Danielle controlled the urge to swear or spit at this man, who she had kind of liked a few hours ago, and said quietly. “My father’s from Portugal and my mother’s French Canadian. Why?”

Jason shrugged, “Not a biggie, just curious.” He lit the joint he had sitting on his desk, took a long drag and then held it as Danielle took a turn. “If you’re…cooperative, none of this needs to go to anyone.”

Danielle regarded the man with a mixture of anger, apprehension and sadness. There was no point in asking what ‘cooperative’ meant. She was pretty sure she knew.


Julie had managed to slip out of the theater, (they had taken the kids to see Sherlock Gnomes) and she settled on a padded bench. “Mistress,” she typed, “just letting you know I am thinking of you and looking forward to Sunday night. I’ve managed to extend my little break until next Friday so I am free for whatever you wish.”

Courtney was looking over some information Marcie had sent her when the message came in. She smiled as she read it; ‘free for whatever’ was definitely a nice thought.

“Thank you, Slave. The first thing that will happen is we will redden your lovely ass for your absence; we will go from there. Is Mistress Claire staying at your place?”

Julie experienced the usual jolt at the thought of her mistress using her, then replied, “Yes, Mistress Claire is arriving tomorrow and will stay until the kids come back.”

Courtney responded, “She will be sleeping in your bed as we discussed?”

Several emotions moved rapidly through Julie with these words. She and Christopher had talked about this and he had been somewhat confused, but in the end accepted that Julie wished to have her husband not have to choose between sleeping alone or sleeping in his own bed. “I’ll be sleeping with Courtney (she had disclosed the name of her ‘lover’) so it’s only fair.” She had said, and actually was okay with the idea. It wasn’t fair that Christopher be compromised because of her pride.

“She will, Mistress, it is arranged.”

“Very good sweet slave; we will make sure you’re on your knees serving her pussy and ass as often as possible, ‘specially after your hubby-dear has been inside her. He apparently loves anal. I want you to text her now and tell her you are pleased that she will be sleeping in your bed. Tell her how much you love licking her pussy and ass.”

Julie swallowed, feeling strong desire and immense shame. “Yes, Mistress. I look forward to serving you …and her. I will text her now.”

And despite the shame, she really did feel that; and any question of morality was left mute.

She typed the message to Mistress Claire and in a moment a reply showed. “Well, disgusting pussy-slut, I am looking forward to being in your bed with Dr. White’s cock in me, very soon. You are pathetic, but you know that. We need to arrange for you to be on site, to watch Christopher fuck a real woman and then to have you, on your knees, lick out my holes after he comes. Do you like that idea?”

Julie read the message and needed to fight the impulse to fondle herself. She imaged herself being there, watching her husband fuck his mistress. She saw herself crawl to the woman and begin to hungrily eat her out.

“I like that idea very much, Mistress,” she typed.

In her home, Claire Butler read this note with amazement; she wanted to sit on the woman’s face right now.

Sunday couldn’t come soon enough.

(End of Chapter 13)

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 12 We Are Not The Same Persons

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 12

We Are Not The Same Persons, This Year As Last

Julie sat at her desk, looking out the window, her most recent client work spread out and ignored on her desk before her. She could not concentrate on any of it, and was glad the office was busy, as she sat and contemplated.

Her mind was full of the events of yesterday, a jumbled mixture of images from the weekend, especially Sunday at Mistress Gena’s, and then the almost surreal time back home with her family. Home…so strange.

She was recalling now how…disconnected, she felt as first Abigail regaled her with stories of the creatures of the aquarium and then their time at the beach. She recalled how she had barely been able to interject the appropriate responses into Abigail’s flow, while nodding and “ummm-hmmmming”.

Noah had noticed; at one point in his time with her, he had said, “Mother,” in that way he had.

And she had come out of a reverie to answer with a forced smile, “Yes, Dear?”

And he had regarded her in that disturbingly wise way he had to say, “You were dreaming.”

Yes, she had been dreaming, of the hour she had spent serving, incredible to consider it, Claire Butler. How all three women had pointed out how Butler’s mouth and pussy were used regularly by her husband; had been used that very day.

They had watched the cell phone video of Christopher aggressively humping Claire; they couldn’t see his face but all knew it was him. Julie had been amazed at her arousal listening as her husband had an orgasm in the body of another woman, the sound of his thighs enthusiastically slapping Claire’s round ass still there in her mind.

As she had licked and sucked the woman, servicing the very openings that had pleasured Christopher, she had been ordered to pledge her service to Claire Butler, promising to lick her pussy and ass whenever she was directed to.

She had agreed that on weekends, Claire Butler would sleep in Julie’s own bed, with Julie’s husband. And she had said this as her mistress brought her to another orgasm; the final one she had had on the weekend, just before Butler left. It was so powerful that Julie had simply lay naked on the carpet, all her bonds and clips removed, totally spent, as the women said their goodbyes.

What would happen to her now? She pondered. She knew she couldn’t say no; she couldn’t. Her cell buzzed her to awareness and she saw a message from Claire Butler.

“How is our disgusting slave this morning?” it read.

“I am fine. Mistress Claire,” Julie replied promptly.

At her desk, Butler felt a jolt at this response, this control; it was exciting, but she only had a moment this busy morning. “Did you enjoy licking my pussy and ass?” she typed, feeling the urge to fondle herself.

“Yes, Mistress I did. I liked licking your pussy and ass very much.” Julie replied quickly and honestly; she had enjoyed oral sex with Claire Butler as her Mistress watched; it had been great. She wanted to do it again; she wanted to do it right now, why pretend otherwise?

“Where do you belong, Slave?” Claire typed to end.

“On my knees, Mistress Claire, serving you.”

And then the texts ended, and Julie sat, aroused and with a great effort forced herself back to look at the information on the agency Mistress Courtney had brought to her, an acquisition her boss had been delighted with. She sighed and got to work.


Courtney looked across at her supervisor; Joanne Hudson was concerned, and probably should be; Courtney had done a fine job running this shelter for three years.

“We can give you a month, but then you’d have to decide.” Joanne said quietly.

Courtney nodded her head. “I understand; I’m good with that. Grateful, really. I need to try this, right?”

Joanne now nodded her head. “I understand. But I can still be happy for you and sad for us. It’s not a surprise that people recognize your, um, beauty.”

Courtney smiled and looked away. This was hard, even if it turned out to be the correct decision. What she had done at the shelter for these past three years mattered.

After Joanne had left, Courtney texted Marcie Woodhouse. “I’m good to go for Thursday, and whatever else. I have the month.” Heart emoji.

Marcie smiled at the text; she was pretty sure by month’s end the lovely Courtney would have no problem committing full time; she sent a text to her client, and then one to Gena Padilla as well. That woman had great connections too, and after all, Courtney had been her suggestion.


Christopher White was a little surprised when Chelsea informed him who his call was from; he hardly ever received calls from his step-father, especially at his office. “Good morning, Daniel. What’s up?” He asked, cautiously, settling into his chair.


Claire, cup in hand, never-the-less walked briskly across the coffee shop to the table with the red-headed woman. “Hi, um, Miss Courtney,” she smiled.

Courtney chuckled, “You don’t need to call me that; you’re not my slave,” she paused and looked impishly across at her guest, “unless you want to be.”

Claire now laughed. “I liked kissing with you, and everything. It surprises me a little I guess, I’ve never had the urge to, um, cross over.” She chuckled, “But I’m too independent to be someone’s slave.”

Courtney maintained her gaze. “You kind of serve the doctor,” she winked.

Claire grinned, “Ummmm, who serves who?”

Courtney laughed; she liked this woman. “So, anyway, glad you could get free. Just wanted to connect after our little thing yesterday. How’d you uh, feel?”

Claire sipped some coffee; how did she…feel? “Well, let’s see; I was surprised at that as well; I, um, liked it, all of it.” The two women locked eyes. “All of it.”

Courtney smiled. “You’d like to, mmm, meet up again?”

Claire studied the younger woman for a moment. “What’s your plan, Courtney? Why are you doing…this?”

Courtney arranged her tea cup and moved a spoon over; she didn’t really have a plan, exactly; just desires. “I’ve had these, relationships before, Claire, but not like this. Julie is different, and having you involved with hubby, well, that’s sweet. I’m not exactly sure where this goes, but I want Julie.”

Claire paused, “You want her how? Looked to me like she pretty much did whatever you wanted?”

Courtney nodded her head, then shook her red mane, raking her fingers back through the mass of hair as she struggled to put her feelings into words. “I know. I know. But I want more, somehow. And here you are; this is too good not to use.”


It was amazing, Julie considered, as Christopher slouched into the adjacent couch after placing an album on the turntable; they hadn’t talked at any length since the weekend, and here it was, Wednesday. But really, was there much to say? Her husband was like a piece in a chess game, moved where needed, and she was now a slave, being used as her mistress desired. “Is this okay?” he asked, as the classical music softly filled the room; it was Vivaldi, and Julie was okay with some classical, as long as it wasn’t opera.

“Oh, it’s fine, Dear. Thanks.” She murmured.

“So,” he began, sipping his hot chocolate. Hot chocolate? “I have surgery first thing tomorrow, so I’ll be turning in soon.” He raised his cup and she smiled, now understanding. “Do we need to talk, about, er, anything?” He asked with some caution.

She looked over at him. “I’m okay with things, Dear. Anything changed with you?”

He shook his head slowly. “It is weird, and kind of like a dream. I have to shake my head sometimes.” She nodded, agreeing with those points. “Um, by the way, my um, father called, a couple of times, actually.”

He was not looking at her, what was up? “And?” She said, sitting up.

“They are going to Great Britain, and possibly France for a couple of weeks or so. I guess it’s my mother’s idea. Leaving Monday. They, um, want to take Noah and Abigail with them, with school ending this week.”

She looked at him. “Wow. Two weeks, that’s a lot.”

He nodded. “They would take Angel as well, and Miss Needles, um, Nelson…” He grinned. Anne Nelson was Mr. White’s personal physician and he liked and paid to have the woman with them when they traveled; ‘needles’ was just an inside joke.

Julie nodded, processing all this with mixed emotions. On the one hand, it would provide time, lots of time, to be with her mistress. But it also meant her children would be away from her much longer than they ever had.

“How do you feel?” She asked.

“It would be a great experience for the kids. Not being there with them would be odd, but I’m almost thinking it would be more of an adventure for them, rather than having Mom and Dad hovering everywhere. Oh…” he looked at her, “They’ve asked your parents to go as well. They’re using one of the company’s jets so your folks would just need to pay for the odd hotel room, as they will be staying with friends a fair amount.”

“Wow,” Julie murmured, wrapping her head around all this. “Wow.”


“Yeah?” Kyle Gilbertson answered his cell.

“Hey Buddy, what’s happening?”

“What do you think; I’m watchin’ the game and drinkin’ some beers. What’s with you?”

“So it’s real, you and Denise have split?”

“Dude, it’s been like three weeks.” Kyle finished his bottle and tossed it aside.

“You got the house?”

“Well, I’m livin’ in it, for now.”

“Fuck, that’s harsh. We should grab some brews, maybe this weekend.”

“Yeah, sure, where you guys hangin’ these days?”

“Usually at The Revolution down on South Juniper.”

“Hey, dig ya’ later Jase.”

“You got it.”


“So how are you?” the text read, and Julie felt the amazing surge rise within her. She had been debating sending a text; it was excruciating waiting for word from this woman, and it didn’t matter how many times she admonished herself or told herself to chill. She missed being with Courtney (just exactly like an addict, she considered). She needed the connection, the service and especially the touch.

“I’m okay, but I miss you, Mistress,” she typed back, before adding, “please call if you can, I have some news.”

In a moment her cell played its tune and she answered quickly with “Thank you, Mistress.”

“Before you give me news, describe how it went today with Miss Jasmine.”

Julie paused, remembering the encounter that took place right in her office. It seemed so easy now for her to share degrading information about herself. So easy. “Okay, um, Miss Jasmine brought in Amelia, one of our co-workers, to watch as you asked, and I stripped for them and then both of them spanked me with the rubber strap you sent. I then ate Miss Jasmine’s pussy as Amelia watched.”

“You didn’t eat the other young woman?” Courtney had received a summary from Jasmine already, so she knew how things had gone.

“No, she didn’t want that. But she did do the video of me licking Miss Jasmine’s, um, ass which they sent you.”

Courtney smiled; she enjoyed the video, the scene, Mrs. White serving one young woman while another watched, both ‘below’ her in the company. “Very good, Slut-Slave. And so what does my property need to tell me?” Courtney asked dreamily, a smile in her voice.

Feeling a jolt at the word ‘property’ and aroused generally from relating the encounter, Julie went on to quickly explain about the plans for the children’s trip. She ended with, “And I will be available as you wish,” her voice thin and breathless.

“Ummmm, I like the sound of that, sweet pussy girl. But they don’t leave until Monday.”

Julie hesitated; she had pondered that and wasn’t sure what effect this would have on the weekend.

“I still want to have you,” Courtney murmured, sensing her slave’s anxiety and feeding off it.

“I-I, um, will be with you as much as I can, Mistress,” Julie replied obediently, not exactly sure how she would work things.

Courtney quietly chuckled, “Mmmmm, not to worry, my faithful little bitch, we will work on something. For now, I have a task for you, and we’ll see how this works out.”

“Y-yes, Mistress?”

Courtney paused, then began, “I want you to take some pictures, with your cell, of your daughter playing on her bed after a bath; undressed.” Julie paused at this command, her heart pounding. Was this a test? What did this mean? As if sensing the dilemma, Courtney continued, “Of course, you can always say no…”

Without being told what that would mean, Julie replied, “I’m good, Mistress. I will do as I’m told.”

Lying on her bed, Courtney smiled. “Meet me in the coffee shop in your husband’s building tomorrow at eleven, with the pictures.”

The call ended and Julie pulled herself into a little ball. The record on the turntable ended, but she just lay in the silence.


The intercom announced a visitor and Courtney strolled to the speaker; Gena was away for a couple of days and the unit was Courtney’s. “Ya’?” she asked and Hannah’s husky voice announced her presence. The two had not spoken since their exchange over Slave-Julie; Courtney had considered calling more than once.

In a few minutes the dark-haired woman was entering, an odd look on her face. “Thought ya’ might want some company, Bitch-queen,” she smirked as she entered and walked into the kitchen. In another few minutes she had settled herself on one couch, placing a bottle of Hornitos on the coffee table, along with two shot glasses, some lime slices and a shaker of salt.

“I’m sorry about the other day,” Courtney said quietly, not sure why she should be apologizing but needing to.

Hannah regarded her for a moment, “You’re confused, I get that. Not a problem, girl.” She then placed a line of cocaine on the table, looking up at Courtney, “You want some?” Courtney shook her head and Hannah laughed.

“Yeah, figures. You’re so fucking pure.”

Unsettled, Courtney fought back several emotions. “I’m not pure, Hannah, not even close; I don’t do coke.” She studied the other woman. “You know that, why do you keep, mmm, pushin’ me?”

Hannah laughed again and placed a rolled twenty at one end of the powder, snorted the line, wiped her nose and coughed; then she filled the shot glasses and pushed one at Courtney. Licking some salt, she downed the shot and sucked a lime. Courtney then licked some salt as well, swallowed the mellow shot that still had a kick, and sucked a lime slice in turn.

She turned to Hannah who had leaned back against the leather couch, looking relaxed yet somehow sinister. “Take off your clothes,” Hannah said quietly, but there was an edge to her voice.

Courtney regarded her for a long moment, thinking this was only a matter of time, but she quietly asked, “Why?”

Hannah laughed out loud again, “Why? Why the fuck not? ‘Cuz I want to see you, what the fuck? And you want me to look at you, so stop pretending.” She sat and regarded the other woman. Courtney’s mind was in turmoil. She might deny this attraction, but that was only fooling herself. It was time to find out a few things. She stood and removed the few clothes she was wearing, before standing naked and looking into Hannah’s eyes. “Turn around for me, slowly.”

“Hannah, what the fuck…?”

“Just do it, Whore.”

Courtney shrugged her shoulders, but the word whore had penetrated. She turned slowly, coming back around to face the other woman. “Shit, yeah. You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that, right? We used to say, ‘hurtin’; I never got it, until I saw you.” Hannah murmured. “Turn your back to me,” when Courtney complied, Hannah continued, that same smile on her face. “Bend over and spread for me, pussy-licking slut…”


“Do it now…”

Courtney bent forward, her heart pounding. She spread her ass and then her pussy as wide as possible, then fingered both her holes without being told to.

“Excellent, my bitch. Stand straight.”

Hanna now stood as well and undressed, standing naked a few feet away. She held out her hand and Courtney hesitated, then took it, more aroused than she could remember, saying “I thought you liked dudes?”

Hannah snorted and pulled Courtney down against her on the couch. “I said I liked being fucked by dudes, but you know I’m cool with chicks, hey?” She traced a path down Courtney’s face with one black-coated nail, before squeezing one of Courtney’s rigid pink nipples very hard, aware of the rapidly beating heart in the body pressed against hers.

“Ow, please not like that. You know I don’t like pain, Hannah,” Courtney said, moving back a few inches.

Hannah, looking tantalizing tonight with her dark eyes and hair shining, regarded Courtney through half-closed eye-lids, “Yeah, I know. So you say. That’s too bad.”


Baltimore August, 2007

Hannah and Starr were again in Shorty’s garage, although Shorty had been killed six months before and ‘Snake’ had assumed command of the crew. This time their ‘guest’ was not a man, but a girl, sixteen or seventeen years old was Hannah’s guess, and Snake had tasked his ‘two gals’ with breaking her down.

“No sex-shit and no marks on her face,” Snake had warned, and Hannah was good with that. She had discovered that she liked hurting people and was pretty good at it. The body had places on it where the sense of pain was more acute and Hannah had learned of this.

The girl, Puerto Rican and small, although almost eighteen in reality, looked up with fear into the beautiful but threatening face; even though Hannah was actually younger than the girl, she seemed years older and was intimidating and dominating.

Hannah used a pocket knife to cut through the thin panties, before stuffing them into the girl’s mouth. “Why are you doing this?” the girl managed to get out before Hannah sealed her mouth with tape.

“You belong to Snake, little cunt, and you need to know what happens when he’s not happy with you.”

Hannah grinned, before bringing her knee hard into the girl’s crotch, the rope binding her hands and tied to a beam above keeping the girl upright as she slouched forward in pain.


Julie lay on her side of the bed; she could not remember the last time she had laid against Christopher. She lay and looked up at the ceiling even though the room was dark. She was going over in her mind how to complete her task without it seeming …strange. Since Thursday would be the final day of the school year, Abigail would have her hair washed, that was not strange.

She could then take the pictures; Abigail often liked to play on her bed after a bath before climbing into her pajamas. That was not odd; her daughter was very comfortable without clothes and Julie had never been repressive, although some grandparents had made comments.

Despite her planning, Julie still felt…odd and guilty. The problem with crossing a bridge when you got to it was that there was always a chance you could not cross back.

Or that the person returning was no longer the same.


Mid-morning and Courtney was kneeling naked in the living room. “Okay Miss Hannah, I need to get showered and dressed,” she said quietly.

Hannah came to stand over the form, “You know, you’d be a much better slave if I could punish you.”

Courtney looked up with a smile tugging at her lips, trying to appear confident, which is hard when you’re naked and on your knees. “I said I would go along with this little scene ‘cuz I…like having sex with you. But no bondage and no discipline. If you’re not good with that…”

“Then what?” Hannah asked, eye-brows arched. Courtney looked down. Hannah chuckled, “Yeah, yeah I hear you, Slut. I’m just sayin’. Okay Bitch, and I probably need to pick a name for you, you may dress, but put some cereal on the table for me.”

“As you wish, Miss Hannah,” Courtney murmured as she rose and headed to the kitchen.

“What’s up with you anyway, I thought you’d left your precious shelter gig?” Hannah asked from the other room.

Courtney poured milk over the rice krispies, “Yeah, I have, but I’m meeting my girl, then I have a modelling thing this aft.”

“No shit,” Hannah murmured, coming to stand behind Courtney and kissing the back of her neck.

“No shit,” Courtney replied, feeling a rush, then turning and kissing the taller woman full on her mouth, hungrily accepting the tongue that immediately entered.


Julie, who had made up an excuse about meeting a client to leave work (which was not totally untrue, because Courtney had brought FabModels to the company) entered the coffee shop at a few minutes before eleven. She wondered when it was she had last been here; it had been years.

Courtney saw her girl enter and closed up her laptop. She had been successful in ‘researching’ Kyle-A-Hole, aka Gilbertson. With Hannah’s help (the woman seemed to know a lot of sketchy stuff) Courtney had his address and lots of info on his life in general, including who he was married to, etcetera.

She smiled as Julie joined her, “You may sit, Slave, for now.”

Julie sat, looking awkward, before passing her cell phone across the table. The morning ‘task’ had gone as planned, with Abigail having no problem rolling around on her bed with a stuffed animal or two. Julie took eight shots and then dressed the girl in a nice outfit for her final day of grade two. When Angel came in Abigail was sitting at the table, hair done and eating her breakfast.

“Well, don’t you look pretty,” Angel had exclaimed to the beaming Abigail. “Just like a princess.”

“I am a princess,” Abigail had replied, a smile on her face. “An’ I’m goin’ to see the queen pretty soon.”

But now Julie sat, her heart pounding, as Courtney went through the shots. “These are great, obedient slave. Your daughter is very pretty, gorgeous really, she’s going to be a real heart-breaker. Look at those long legs, damn. And that hair is sweet. She’s a great mix between you and your very white hubby, hmmmm?” Courtney noted, handing the phone back after a moment.

Julie took it and looked up. “You deleted the pictures.”

Courtney smiled, “Yeah, is that a question, Slave?”

Julie felt herself turning red, “But why…?”

Courtney snuffled, “I’m not interested in naked little girls, Doobie.”

“But…?” Courtney tilted her head to one side and gazed at Julie, who stammered, “Oh, you just wanted to see…”

“If you would obey,” Courtney finished for her, smiling. “And now, we have a little job before I head off. Your hubby teaches a class today, but before he left he humped Mistress Claire, by special request, and your superior is waiting up in their office for you to service her. So, let’s go.”

She finished her tea and stood up, then turned to head to the elevators, Julie following closely behind.


Daniel White knocked, then entered his wife’s room; she gazed at him from her bed, then muted the television. “Your son is good with the trip,” he said, quietly. Joyce smiled and nodded, then picked up the remote.  “What are you up to really?” Daniel asked, quietly.

Joyce regarded him coolly for a moment, “Good night, Dear,” she said, turning her face to the screen.


Courtney sat in one armchair, looking, staring really, at the check in her hands; it was the largest check she had ever been given, and it was for four hours work this afternoon. The show had gone ‘stunningly’, Marcie had enthused, and there had only been four models, so it was a very busy afternoon.

And now this. “What’s up, Bitch?” Hannah said, taking the check from Courtney’s fingers.


“Chill, girl, your mistress wants to see. Shit, this is sweet. That’s a lot of cabbage, as Shorty used to say.”


“Never mind, long story. But this is very cool. Why in hell would you even think about going back to your ladies place.”

“It’s not all about money,” Courtney said quietly, thinking of the number of women over the years who had hugged her in tears, desperately grateful for her assistance.

“Yeah, usually it’s people with lots of cash who say money doesn’t matter. You’re just weird.” Hannah smiled.


“’scuse me,” Hannah gave a look and Courtney rolled her eyes. “Hey, you want me to sleep with you tonight?” Courtney sighed and nodded. “Well then pussy-girl, play along.”

Courtney sighed again, “Miss Hannah?”

“On your knees, slave-girl.” Courtney sighed again, but went to her knees. “Yes?” Hannah murmured, the grin still on her attractive face.

Courtney knelt silently for a moment, and then asked. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

(End of Chapter 12)

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 11 How Wide And Precipitous

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 11

How Wide And Precipitous A Country Must Be Crossed 

Courtney and Julie lay on the bed, covers off, still warm from their time together. Carolyn had returned home and Gena was asleep on the couch in her den; the place was quiet, and the two women were gently stroking each other’s arms, comfortable in their nakedness and closeness.

“I’ve really taken a sledge-hammer to your life, Doobie,” Courtney purred.

Julie squeezed against the tall, slim, soft and warm body, although it was impossible to get any closer. “Yeah. It’s pretty incredible. Obviously I was looking for…something.”

“Big surprise, it looks like it’s me, hey?” Courtney said quietly.

Julie smiled and moved down to place her mouth over a rigid, pink nipple; her mistress had given the okay to just ‘be,’ no asking permission. Julie sucked on the breast as Courtney moaned softly and squeezed the woman in response.

Courtney now lay on her back, allowing her partner to roam uncontested, licking and kissing where she desired. In her mind, the thought struggled again to the surface, needing to be addressed. This woman was different for her than the others, but why? And what to do with these feelings? The only feeling she had allowed in her life since ‘that day’ had been pleasure.

Julie crawled up to rest with her face against Courtney’s cheek; she gripped the younger woman and Courtney laughingly protested, saying “What’s up, sweets?”

Julie looked into those enchanting eyes, her face showing she was clearly struggling with something. She then kissed Courtney’s face; on her cheek, her nose, her forehead, her mouth, then her throat, pausing to say quietly, “I love you, okay, I have to say it. I need to say it. I love you, I am yours.” Julie then clung to Courtney, who gently stroked her hair. What was there to say?


Dr. White smiled, for any number of reasons, but mostly because he was enjoying the massage the efficient Claire was providing. “So, you didn’t know that I could do this, hmmmm? She murmured.

White chuckled, “I know you are a woman of many skills, my dear. But, no, I didn’t know you had actually taken a course in therapeutic massage. But it doesn’t surprise me. You are a gem.”

Claire smiled, expertly working the left deltoid area. “But my services are better than what I learned,” she purred.

“How’s that?” the good doctor murmured, as the hands played down his spine.

“Well, they never talked about the happy ending.” She kissed the nape of his neck. “I’m big on happy endings.”

They both chuckled.


“So, your plan moving along at all there, Princess?” Gena asked with a smirk.

Courtney sipped her camomile; she was feeling very relaxed, courtesy of the devoted tongue of her slave. She stretched, again reminding one for a moment of a large, sensuous cat. “Plans can be overrated, hey sweets.” She yawned, regarding Gena with a languid air.

“Are you high?” Gena asked, looking into Courtney’s eyes.

“Just on affection,” she replied and Gena laughed. “I’m all comfy; could you check how our slave girl is coming along?” Julie had been tasked with cleaning the bathrooms, on her knees, with a bucket and a brush.

“Oh, poor princess, all comfy-womfy,” Gena teased, getting up and heading to the main floor bathroom.

Courtney smiled, her concerns in check for now; but she knew she would need to decide about ‘him’ soon; as well as her slave. What to do about that? I love you, three dangerous words, Courtney contemplated.


“We’re goin’ to the park, the park!” Abigail chanted and Angel clapped.

“That’s right, little one, and we’ll see the aquarium, too.”

“Gonna’ see fishies’,” Abigail sang, pretending to be one.

“There’s also mammals,” Noah said, in his manner that reminded Angel so much of his father.

“Wish mommy and daddy could see the fishies,” Abigail said, as they climbed into the Ramos’s Ford Explorer, heading for Coney Island.

“Oh, I think they’ve seen, um, fishies my love,” Angel crooned.

“Mother said she didn’t like the water,” Noah commented in his dry way.

“Really?” Angel asked, “I didn’t know that.”


Julie struggled, the terror beginning to rise, until suddenly Hannah (who had arrived just after noon) pulled her head from the toilet bowl and then slapped her face. “Did you like that, Slave?”

Julie fought to regain her breath, water still coming from her nose. “No, Miss H-hannah,” she managed to get out before the woman forced Julie’s head back under.

“I think that’s good,” Courtney said from the doorway, and there was a tone in her voice that made Hannah look up at her. “Hmmmm, is our Mistress growing attached?” Hannah asked, with a smirk.

Courtney remained calm, but there was a growing anger heating up within her. “Not your problem. I said that’s good.”

Hannah laughed and hauled Julie out. “Hey chill, Madame X, your girl is good.” Hannah rose and strolled past Courtney, “Don’t get all fussed,” she murmured, lifting Courtney’s face with a finger under her chin, before strolling out.

Courtney did not respond, but took a bath towel and put it around Julie’s shoulders, then untied the cords at her elbows. “Dry yourself Doobie and then come to the living room. On your knees, right?”

Julie flashed a weak smile, “Right. And thank you.”

Courtney rose and left, coming into the living room just as the front door closed; Hannah had left, and Courtney stood, feeling both upset and confused.

Julie, drying herself, thought that something was  confirmed in her mind. She felt attraction to her, actually quite strong if she was honest, but she didn’t particularly like Mistress Hannah; there was something…dangerous, with her.


“So, you going to tell me who we’re going to see tonight?” Claire smiled across the table at Dr. White. They were in another nice restaurant, but after dinner they wouldn’t be heading home as usual. Tonight the good doctor was treating his assistant to a live concert, with an act he loved but Julie didn’t care for.

“Oh, I like checking out new, unknown performers,” the doctor smiled, “just starting out, warts and all.” He grinned.

Claire regarded him, thinking he might just be pulling her leg. “Does this warts and all performer have a name by any chance?” She smiled.

White looked ‘impish’; he was enjoying this. “I don’t know, ever hear of a Bruce, um, Spring-something?”

“Bruce Springsteen!!” Claire exclaimed and the doctor laughed. He had seen two of the man’s CDs in Claire’s desk, so he knew this would be well received.

White laughed as well. “So I guess he’s okay, hmmmm?”


“So, Hannah says you were pissed at her?” Gena asked with an impish grin; she and Courtney were in the living room again as Julie-slave was doing something she rarely did at home, preparing dinner, and this was not lost on her; she mostly did not make meals because it wasn’t ‘her thing’; never had been, and of course they had always had Angel. But who can’t warm up soup and make toasted-cheese sandwiches? She pondered, stirring the pot.

Back at the couches, Courtney looked up at her friend, “She told you that?” She asked. What was with Hannah?

To Courtney, the woman had always been…dark. Her Turkish parentage gave her a darker complexion and dark hair, but the darkness Courtney felt came from within the woman. But there was also that strong attraction, and that bothered her.

Gena shrugged, “Yeah. I think she likes getting to you, princess.”

Courtney regarded Gena; where was she in this? Hannah was actually her friend, after all, even if friend might not be the exact word to describe all their relationships. But then, Gena had asked her to stay here; had she made the same offer to Hannah? “Have you ever asked Hannah to be a roommate?”

Gena looked into the green-blue eyes, thinking again that this face should be on a magazine; maybe it would be, what with the modelling Courtney had started and with Marcie’s help. “Not sure where that came from, but no, I haven’t; but she has an okay crib, hey. I took like, pity on you, Red; a princess shouldn’t live in a tiny dump, right?”

“Right yourself,” Courtney replied as Julie-slave came in on her hands and knees to announce the food was ready.                        


Baltimore, July 2005

In Grove Park, a sketchy area on the west side of Baltimore, in the garage ‘Shorty’ Johnson liked to use for ‘bizness’, several of his crew were assembled; Shorty, four other males and three females.

Hannah Yilmaz, fifteen, was the youngest of the group but looked much older. Most members of Shorty’s crew (nicknamed that of course because he was tall and thin) were black, but T.J and Hannah were ‘the token whites’ as the group called them. Hannah, with her heritage and olive skin and jet black hair, would likely not be considered white at all, in certain places.

As well as the crew, there was one other man present; ‘Wild Bill’, one of Shorty’s distributors. Wild Bill was not a guest however; as the others drank beer and bourbon, Wild Bill stood and waited anxiously for his fate. He had come up ‘light’ over a week ago with his money, considerably, actually, and Shorty had given him ten days to make it right. Time was now up, and Bill was still ‘light’.

“Yo, Bill, you’s a fuckin’ loser, right?” Shorty drawled and there were snickers and guffaws around the room.

“Wait, Shorty, I jus…” But Bill didn’t get to finish, as the burly man to his left drove a fist into his gut.

“No one said nuthin’ ‘bout you talkin’, asshole,” Shorty said, and there was menace in his voice. He nodded his head and two of the crew lifted Bill to his feet and tied his hands behind him. “Tonight, you jus’ gonna watch, you feel me man?”

At this, a wide piece of tape was placed over Bill’s mouth and the group headed out and down the alley, Bill being marched along. After about ten minutes of walking they came to a littered and empty green space. The grass that was there grew long and in patches. The remains of a bench sat with an aura of despondency, like an unfinished piece of art, and the group spread out around this.

They came prepared; Wild Bill was tied spread-eagle to the ground using pegs, with two members emptying the remains of their beer cans onto his face, laughing, when the task was done.

As the dusk settled into evening, the crew would pause their partying to randomly inflict punishment on the bound figure; stomping or kicking him; cigarettes were stubbed out on his hands and face; he was spat on and punched.

Hannah (who, despite her youth, was Shorty’s ‘bitch’) and she sat on the man’s knee, his hand around her slim waist, and watched with interest. She was getting a kick out of this.

With darkness now settled, Shasta, a tall, black girl got one of the guys to help her untie Bill’s ankles and pull off his jeans and underwear, then tie him back.

Hannah climbed off and strolled over to the prone man, waited until he looked up at her, then slammed her bare foot into Bill’s genitals, grinding down, enjoying the feel of the man’s balls and penis squashed beneath her heel.

Starr, a late-teens Latino girl, laughed at this, calling “You’s one sweet bitch, girl” and then she came and stomped as well.

Hannah would remember one thing especially from the evening’s violence, later that night in bed with Shorty; it was the look of fear in Bill’s eyes as she stood over him that she recalled.

“What’s that?” Starr had asked, pointing to Bill’s face, where liquid was oozing out of his nose.

“He’s pukin’,” Shorty drawled, “shit’s got nowhere’s to go.” The group laughed at this.

Thirty minutes later, with the case of beer and the two

bottles of bourbon gone, Shorty cut Bill’s throat with his blade. The group stood in a circle and watched as he died, Charlie pulling off the tape and putting his cigarette butt in the open mouth.

As the group started to disperse, Hannah called out, “Wait up.” She then dropped her cut-offs and straddled the lifeless form, the bonds removed but the arms and legs still out-spread, the head tilted to its left. She then urinated on the face and body.

Shorty laughed, “Yo’ is one nasty bitch, girl. Le’s go, an’ take care of some biz-ness.”


“So, havin’ second thoughts there Julie White?” Courtney asked as she and Julie were lying together again, with the day having slipped past midnight, so technically it was Sunday.

“Why do you say that?” Julie murmured. She still had difficulty figuring out where Miss Courtney was going sometimes with her questions.

“Hmmmm, welllll, I’m thinking about how Miss Hannah was treating you today; that’s so not my style, but a, mmmm, slave is expected to like, face some abuse, hey.”

Julie considered this. She didn’t like Hannah, that was clear in her mind. She was actually afraid of the attractive but almost sinister woman. However, even Hannah had done things that turned Julie on, so what did she think? “As long as you’re there, I’m okay, pretty much. I would be afraid to be left alone with, um, Miss Hannah, or someone, well, like her, if you get my meaning?”

Courtney kissed Julie very tenderly on the mouth, then spoke against her cheek. “I get your meaning, and I’ll protect you. You’re mine.”

Julie clung to the woman tightly, overwhelmed again by the feelings that were aroused in her simply with Courtney’s words. She thought of the old Bee Gees song, ‘Words, are all I have’. Sometimes words were enough. “How wide a country, arid and precipitous, must be crossed,” Julie murmured.

“What the fuck?” Courtney laughed.

Julie laughed too, “Um, that’s a quote from a book I was reading.”

“Really,” Courtney sat up and looked into Julie’s eyes, “like a real book, like book? Sounds deep. Means…?”

Julie considered, “Ummm, to me, it’s about finding true love, or yourself, or both; and…it’s a hard journey.”

Courtney smiled and gently nodded her head. “Sweet.” 


“What time are we taking the kids back again?” Mrs. Ramos asked Angel, as the two women were working side by side at the stove.

“I told Mister and Missus, that we’d have dinner with you and then be home before seven; that will give us time for baths and everything.”

“Bueno, we’ll have time to try the kites Abuelito made; there’s some wind today.”

Angel smiled; she liked Mrs. Ramos.


“Here, I’ll do that,” Claire said, picking up the plates and glasses and heading for the dishwasher.

“So you don’t mind that I need to go back to the office?” Dr. White asked.

Claire smiled. “I knew you had those files to deal with; I reminded you on Friday, so no, I’m good. I have some errands to run anyway.”

White gripped her in a hug, “Well, we’ll be back at it early tomorrow anyway.”

“Absolutely,” Claire replied, squeezing the front of the good doctor’s trousers.


“Ohhhh; aaaah; unghh; uhh!” Julie was grunting in response to the whacks being struck on her ass. She was in the spare bedroom, tied on all fours on a wooden structure that Mistress Gena enjoyed; it allowed several options for dealing with whoever was bound there. Today, a large vibrating wand had been placed against Julie’s clitoris and held there by straps.

Courtney smiled as she ran her hand up Julie’s thigh and gently stroked the puffy labia; she slipped two fingers into the wet hole and Julie arched her back and moaned. “Beg, Slave.” Courtney commanded.

“Aaaahhh, please Mistress, oh, please, please, please.”

Courtney laughed as she began to pump her fingers rapidly, with Gena bringing the paddle down with a satisfying whack every now and then.

“That’s it,” Courtney encouraged as Julie began to cry out, before arching her back and pushing like she wished to swallow Courtney’s hand. “Come on, Bitch. Come on.” Courtney urged, now with four fingers and half her hand embedded in the demanding vagina.

“AaaaaHHHH! Ohhh Gawwwwwd! Oh God. Ohhh, ohhhhhhh.” Julie called out and slumped forward, held by the restraints of the structure.

Courtney laughed and wiped her hand off on Julie’s face, then kissed her gently. She looked at Gena. “We’ll leave her like this, I like looking at this view,” Courtney said, slapping one of Julie’s cheeks; then she and Gena headed to the living room.

“So, what’s the plan for today? When does the…Slave-girl need to be home?” Gena asked, slumping onto a cream-colored couch, that same odd smile on her face.

Courtney stood, considering making some tea. “Oh, I have a little event planned later; Doobie-slave needs to be back a little after six, so we have this aft for some more fun.” As she headed to the kitchen, her cell announced a call and she located the device in her room, answering it on the third ring.

“Um, Courtney?” the woman asked.

“Ms. Butler?” Courtney replied.

“Yes, um, just checking on the, oh, schedule I guess.”

Courtney smiled, “So does one still work? You have the address, right?”

“Yes, yes, one is still fine and I know where it is, it’s actually not far.”

“Good. Very good. We’ll see you then.”

“Um, Courtney…?”


“Are you sure about this? I mean, you don’t think there could be, I don’t know, a problem of some kind?”

Courtney chuckled. “There will be no problems, Claire. Trust me; this will be fun. You have some video?”

“Oh yes, I definitely do.”

“That’s great. See ya’ later.” Courtney closed the call and smiled; this would be the next step.


The Ramoses had set up their umbrella and spread the blankets; Mrs. Ramos complaining once again of the number of people.

“It is Coney Island in June, Mrs. R,” Angel had replied, thinking wow, school would soon be out.

It wasn’t long before Noah was busy industriously building a sand castle, while Abigail dragged Angel into the water. She had her safety wings on but was a surprisingly good swimmer all ready.

After a good half hour in the water, Angel convinced the girl to take a break and now they were relaxing on their blankets, watching the hordes.

“How come we gots to wear suits, Angel?” Abigail asked.

“What do you mean, Sweetheart?”

Abigail looked up at the woman. “I mean, why can’ts we just swim with nuthin’ on?”

Angel regarded the girl, with her curly brown, blonde hair, an obvious mix of mother and father, “You want to go swimming um, naked, little one?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Angel considered this. She and her friends had gone swimming ‘buck-naked’ as she recalled, back in her youth, but that was in private spots and a different time. “Well, people need to, um, cover up their, you know, private parts. Your mommy has talked about that?”

“My vagina?” Abigail asked bluntly.

“Oh, um, your mommy told you that? Well, uh, yeah, stuff like that. It’s like private, and people don’t want to see it.” Angel answered, a little unnerved by the precociousness of innocence.

“The doctor looks at my vagina,” Abigail replied.

Angel sat for a moment, considering. “Hey, you know what. I think it’s time for one of those big ice-cream cones. Whaddya’ say little one?” Angel ventured hopefully.

“Yay! I want strawberry,” Abigail enthused.

With a sigh of relief, Angel stood and led Abigail by the hand. “We’re goin’ to get cones, Noah. You comin?”

“Nay, I’m busy. Maybe later,” the ever-serious Noah replied, carefully cutting out a parapet on the corner tower of his sand castle.

“Okay my love, we’ll be back in a bit.” And off they went, Abigail tugging the woman by the hand.


Julie was now on her knees, cleaning Miss Gena’s feet as Courtney watched, one eye on the clock. Gena would occasionally throw a glance the woman’s way, as Courtney had still not told her exactly what ‘the plan’ was; other than a guest would be arriving around one.

Courtney regarded her slave, licking diligently. Gena had bound Julie’s breasts with cord, forcing them into bulging orbs. Strong clips had then been placed on Julie’s dark nipples, a small chain linking the two clips while another chain extended down to the slave’s genitals, where two more clips had been placed on Julie’s fat labia. Weights had been attached to these clips so they stretched the labia down, exposing the pink-brown inner flesh.

“Just kiss the bottoms, Slut” Gena directed, holding a foot before Julie’s face. As Julie tenderly kissed this, Gena said, “Tell me how much you like worshipping my feet, Slave.”

Julie swallowed, and licked her lips. It no longer surprised her that verbal abuse, from certain women, aroused her, but she still was working on controlling her reaction. “I love kissing your feet, Mistress Gena,” she murmured, and Gena chuckled. Before she could say any more, however, the intercom announced a visitor. “Keep licking, Slave. We’re inviting another pussy up for you to serve,” Gena smiled, putting all her toes into Julie’s mouth.

The sound of voices rose up to Gena and Julie, and then the sound of footsteps. In a moment, Courtney attached the leash to Julie’s collar and led her a couple of feet away and had her place her face on the carpet, with her inviting ass high and open.

From this position she could still hear the voices but could not see who the newcomer was; but she still felt strong arousal at being displayed like this for a stranger; she actually began thinking about what sort of pussy this woman had, because she was certain she would be eating it soon.

She could hear the sound of liquid being poured and was sure it would be wine. Then, with a warning to continue looking down, Courtney led Julie to the beige colored shoes of the guest, and Julie began to lick them.

She was slowly allowed to move up the bare legs, the pantyhose having been removed, until she came to the upper thighs and saw from the corner of her eye a tangle of brown pubic hair. With a gentle hand, Courtney moved Julie’s face into this, and the woman sucked on the pink labia with desire.

After a few moments, Courtney lifted Julie’s face to look up at a smiling Claire Butler. “Slave, say hello to the woman whose pussy is used by your husband.”

“Hello Mrs. White. Or should I say, Julie-slave,” Claire said quietly, a rush of pure, exquisite emotion surging through her.

Julie blinked in disbelief.

(End of Chapter 11)

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 10 Human Bondage:

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 10

Human Bondage: To Lose Control Over Ones Life

Christopher and Julie lay on separate couches, each clasping a snifter of Hennessy. After some brief comments for each of them about their weekends, Julie had stated her intention to spend weekends with ‘her friend’ and of course accepted that Christopher would have Claire as his guest.

Dulcet comments followed, with husband and wife both wishing to be out of this discussion, but both confirming again their bond and desire to maintain the marriage. Then they had gone silent, as Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘Bookends’ album played.

Christopher now thought of Claire, and remembered her this afternoon as she dabbed the corners of her mouth following another successful (he’d never liked the word) blow job. Christopher remained amazed at her continued insistence to take his orgasm in her mouth.

“It’s yours, and that’s why,” she had said, smiling.

With the album ending and his glass now empty, Christopher stood and flipped the record over on the turntable, then proceeded upstairs and picked up his cell from the night table.

“Interested in another weekend with me?” He texted.

As he was undressing the reply came, “You need to ask?” Smiley-face emoticon.

* * * *

The server brought the drinks and Marcie Woodhouse raised her glass, “To you, my dear. I think this is what you should be doing.”

Courtney smiled and sipped some wine. The showing, followed by a shoot, had gone very well. There had been three models, including Courtney, with over a dozen buyers and several guests. Courtney had drawn some oohs and aaahs several times, and the designer had made a point of coming back and speaking with her afterwards; the cheque in her pocket was almost a bonus.

“It’s fun, for sure,” Courtney replied, “but how, um…”

“Reliable?” Marcie inserted.

Courtney smiled, “Yeah, my gig has its ups and downs but nobody’s firing my butt. Modelling seems pretty come and go, hmmmm?”

Marcie nodded. She certainly knew the business wasn’t one you did for twenty years and looked forward to a pension at some point; but then what jobs today promised that? “You have some benefits at your job?”

Courtney nodded, “Some limited medical and dental. Ambulance I think.” She shrugged.

Now Marcie nodded, “Well, my agency provides something similar, probably comparable. And you can stay with our plan even if you stop modelling. And what you could make with us, say, in one year, is probably three times what you make now. Maybe more.”

The two women regarded each other, before Courtney spoke, “Do you have a, um, ad agency, like full time?”

Marcie shook her head, “We use several, why?”

“I have a friend, let’s see,” she fished around in her bag and found Julie’s card, “BTRflash, that’s the name.”

“So, what are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking if you could throw some work their way, I’d be more inclined to, like, join up, hey?”

Marcie smiled, “I think we could work something out.”

Just as Courtney was heading down the hall to the exit, Marcie’s phone whistled a text message had arrived.

“How has everything gone?” It asked.

“Very well. Thank you so much for directing this young woman my way. She’s a smash.”

“No worries. You’ve done me a solid in the past.”

“Roger that,” Marcie had signed-off in an old-fashioned manner.

After the texts concluded, Gena put her cell down on the table and looked out the window. Things were progressing, there was no doubt.


I am addicted, Julie pondered, lying on one couch and listening to Linkin Park, one of the few boy bands she was okay with. I am a disgusting slave and an addict, she considered, thinking back to her session with youthful Jasmine, who certainly seemed delighted with this bizarre turn-of-events.

But Tuesday there had been no communication from…her mistress, and now Wednesday night found her ‘in withdrawal’ as she thought of it. While she had been busy with the kid’s bedtimes and stories and just chatting, she’d been okay. But now she was alone with her thoughts and ‘climbing the walls’. She’d wondered about that expression, having never been there; now she understood it.

Unable to stand it anymore, she texted, “Dear Mistress, I’m thinking of you. I want to be with you, it’s so crazy. I served Jasmine on your orders, I hope that pleased you. Your devoted slave, on my knees.”

After she sent the text she again felt shame, almost disgust (I’m Goddamn Philip, she thought, only worse) as her repulsion was balanced by undisputed desire. Her cell chimed in only a couple of minutes and she literally jumped. “I’m calling you in a minute, but you need to be naked and, like you say, on your knees,” it read.

It was late; everyone was in bed, including Christopher who needed to be in early on Thursday, so there was little hesitation as Julie stripped off her clothes and knelt. In a moment her song announced the caller and she answered, “Mistress.”

Courtney chuckled softly. She was in the spare bedroom at Gena’s and had actually contemplated sending a text to her slave when the message arrived. “How are you?” she asked and Julie could not believe the rush this voice produced in her.

“I’m dying,” she said simply. “I want to be with you. The weekend seems so far away I’m going nuts.”

Courtney smiled. “Was your work buddy Jasmine a surprise?”

Julie sighed softly, “Oh God, it was, but I know she was happy.”

Courtney chuckled; the idea had pleased her, extending her slave’s functions into work; home would be next. “You are to lick her pussy and ass once each day, understood?”

“Y-yes, Mistress,” Julie murmured, feeling like she could come in a moment if allowed to touch herself.

They sat in silence for several seconds, before Courtney asked, “Do you know how to work the video on your cell?”

“Um, yeah, it’s been a couple of months but…”

“No prob. Lie on your back and play with yourself and shoot that and send it to me. Make sure I can see your face and your pussy.”

The call ended and Julie lay conflicted. She didn’t really want a video of herself, masturbating, out there but she was as horny as hell. It only took a few moments to get the video working; she had done a few videos of the kids, just a while back.

Holding the cell in her left hand, she began slowly fondling her thickening labia, her eyes closed. She was astonished with how wet she was; she imagined herself serving Jasmine in the bathroom, she saw herself licking the shoes of the women at the store, she remembered the afternoon when Miss Hannah came by. She had inserted two fingers inside herself and was pumping away, no longer concerned with any consequences. She was going to come and her mistress would watch; it was the only thing on her mind.

In her bed, Courtney regarded the scene with pleasure, her own hand at work between her thighs. A smile broke out when she saw her slave arch her back, all four fingers of her hand embedded in her vagina. She gave the woman a moment to recover and then called. Julie fumbled with moist fingers to close off the video and answer.

Courtney chuckled. “That was excellent, sweet doob. It got my juices flowing, how’s that?”

Julie smiled and shook her head, “I’m yours, Miss Courtney. I love pleasing you. I love it.”

There was silence now as both women lay, then Courtney asked. “The weekend is…arranged?”

“Yes, um, Mistress. My parents are taking the kids, with Angel of course. I will be at Miss Gena’s as planned.”

Courtney smiled. “And hubby-boo, he’s having a sleep-over with his gal?”

Julie felt a strange stab with that comment; ‘his gal’, but murmured. “Yes, that’s arranged as well.”

“What’s her name again?”

Julie hesitated, not sure why, then said quietly, “Claire, um, Claire Butler.”

“Very good, obedient slave. I’m looking forward to the weekend as well. I miss that warm, devoted tongue of yours; it should be serving me every day. See ya’.”

Julie lay now, not bothering to dress, almost in a stupor. The player carried Linkin Park’s words to her,

“It starts with one…one thing I don’t know why, it doesn’t even matter how hard you try, keep that in mind…all I know.”

It will eventually be a memory; she considered this. She had to laugh; W. Somerset Maugham and Linkin Park, coming together in her mind.

How messed up was that?


“Um, thanks,” Courtney said as Gena handed her two discs in cardboard sleeves.

“You should say thanks, sister. I put some time into those.”

Courtney smiled. “Thirty minutes each, you said?”

“Tha’s right, my queen. The easy part was getting slave-girl in action; we got her every which way, you know. The hard part was keeping our faces outta view.”

Courtney nodded; she could understand that. Gena had, a while back, placed four cameras in her open living ‘room’ and two in the spare bedroom and had started making videos of any of her slave action; she and Courtney had decided it would be great to record Julie-slave’s weekend. And now here were two half-hour discs. “It’s good shit, Mama, if I do say so myself.”

Courtney smiled. “It’s great, really, I owe you, Boss.”

“No worries,” Gena said, getting up.

“Oh, btw, sweets, thanks for everything. I like having you as my, uh, landlord, hey.”

Gena smiled. “Righty, great having you here, and on Friday we have more fun and games with your girl.”

“Absolutely,” Courtney murmured. “Hey…” Gena turned back. “Did you turn the cameras off in this room?”

Gena laughed, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” She grinned. “Yeah, they’re off. Who wants to see you sleepin’?”

Now Courtney grinned.

Gena grinned too.

The cameras of course were all still working.


Claire answered the phone, “Dr. White’s office, how may I assist you?” The surgery was finished and the patient was recovering; one of the assistants was seeing to that and Claire had some time at her computer, and answering the incoming.

“I would like to speak to Claire Butler,” the woman said, her voice soft and attractive.

Claire hesitated for a moment; she rarely received calls for herself. “This is Claire Butler,” she said.

“Hi, you don’t know me, my name is Courtney Farrell, but we have, um, mutual I guess, friends.”

Claire hesitated again, cautious and not exactly sure why. “Um, Ms. uh, Farrell is it, does this have to do with a procedure or the like?”

“No, sorry to call you at work. I did want to talk with you, and maybe there’s a better time. It’s about Dr. White and Julie White.”

“Oh, um, yes, you need to be uh, more specific.”

Courtney paused, a smile on her pretty, plump, pink lips. “Well, I’ve seen how well you suck Dr. White’s cock, and I am very familiar with his wife’s pussy. I know last weekend we each had fun with them, that’s pretty specific, hey.”

There was a pause now, Claire frantically trying to figure out what this was about, anxiety and, strangely, arousal at play within her. “You’re um, Mrs. White’s, uh, friend, hmmm?”

Courtney chuckled, “Right. Could we grab a, mmmm, coffee? Your clinic is not all that far from me.”

“Oh, uh, okay I guess. I’m not sure what we have to meet about, ummm, Ms. Farrell.” How well you suck his cock, what the hell?

“Oh, I think we have a few things. How’s five tonight?”

Claire paused, “Four-thirty would be better, there’s a coffee shop right on our main floor,” she murmured. What was she getting herself into?

“Great, see ya’ then.”

Claire sat in thought when the line went dead; this was strange, but the woman sounded…interesting; and young.


Julie’s desk phone beeped and she answered Helen their receptionist; “Call for you on two, Ms. White” the woman announced.

Three minutes later Julie was replacing the phone with a smile on her face; it had been a call from ‘FabModelsInc’, an agency Julie had actually heard of. They were interested in a marketing proposal, and it was coming directly to her. Julie turned her laptop and started a search.

Fifteen minutes later, as she was making notes, her door opened and Jasmine’s smiling face appeared, and thirty seconds after that, they were headed down the hall.


Courtney was sipping her tea when a blondish middle-aged woman, medium height, heavy breasts, pleasantly attractive entered and looked around. There were only a few patrons and Courtney smiled and nodded as Claire Butler came to her table.

“Want to grab something?” she asked conversationally.

“No, I’m good. Let’s just get down to, well, whatever it is, Ms. um, Farrell,” Claire said sitting down.

Courtney smiled; she could understand the woman’s caution. “Sure. Our connection, um, Claire, is that we both have a sexual relationship with a White, Mister for you and Missus for me.”

Claire sat with a poker face, “Okay, and so…?”

Courtney continued to smile, “Well, my relationship with Mrs. White is, um, a certain way, you might say.”

Claire still had not ‘warmed up’, maintaining her reserve, “And what, um, way, would that be?” She asked quietly.

Courtney tilted her head to one side and Claire was suddenly struck by how extraordinarily beautiful this young woman was, like an actress or a model. “Julie White is my slave. She does what I tell her to do, and I have fun thinking of, well, stuff to do with her. The fact you are fucking her husband, and she is aware of it, gives me, um, ideas.”

Claire’s wooden resolve softened with this; it was a lot to take in and this woman was very…compelling. “So, how do I, um, fit in with your…ideas?”

Courtney moved her neck back and forth, like she was stretching. “Let’s see, I’m not a whips and chains mistress, I’m more of a ‘get-on-your-knees-and-grovel dominant’. I like having Julie in humiliating situations; it arouses me. I’ve got to believe serving the woman who owns her husband’s cock would be, well, quite…delicious.”

This did get a reaction from Claire who snuffed and looked down. “Does he come inside you?” Courtney continued.

Claire finally smiled; this was very interesting after all. “Yes, he does,” she murmured.

“Does he use all your holes?”

Despite the pure impudence of this question, Claire simply nodded, “Absolutely. He loves anal and he’s not overly large. I like him inside me wherever, but anal especially seems to do it for him.”

“So, he comes in your ass?”

“Absolutely,” Claire said quietly, but she could not hide her grin.

Courtney smiled too. “That’s great. Really great, actually.”


It was easier to find him than she figured; Courtney was staring at Kyle Gilbertson on her computer screen; The young man who, as a high school big shot, had organized her rape. He had since moved from Milwaukee to Philadelphia and, backed by his father’s money, had invested in a car dealership specializing in high end foreign vehicles.

Maybe there was some karma, Courtney thought as she researched Gilbertson senior on line as well. Knowing

that he was the owner or CEO of her mother’s company made things fairly easy. Mr. Gilbertson had died three years ago, and many of his investments had not prospered; it appeared even Kyle had faced some difficult times, although his company now seemed to be doing okay.

“Hmmm, Kyle-a-hole,” Courtney murmured looking at the photo of the tall, young man standing beside a Porsche (his hair is starting to thin, Courtney noted with a smile). That was good; let’s see what else he might lose, she thought.

She sipped her tea and read some more.          


Julie told herself to focus as she drove along; to keep her mind on the road and not on where she was going and what was to happen. As always, the days this week had at times dragged by, enlivened somewhat by her daily service to Jasmine, but now it seemed like Friday had suddenly appeared and her ‘event’ was now only minutes away; being simply the distance to Gena’s loft. But Julie was warning herself to pay attention to the busy roads and keep her mind off of ‘other things’.

Since Courtney had now moved into the place, Julie was not asked to pick her up; she simply had to dress as directed and show up on time. Underneath her blouse and skirt, she was wearing the lingerie as before; however, she also wore two other items that her mistress had sent to her; a red, satin collar with ‘Property of Courtney’ on it in silver letters and a flesh-colored butt plug, which was now inserted and which she could feel whenever the car went over a bump of any sort.

Beside her on the seat, in an envelope, was the ‘Slave’ contract she needed to sign. In a bag beside this was a hairbrush, as her mistress had also instructed her to “bring something I can use to spank you with.”

Feeling a lump rising in her throat and a surge of arousal, Julie steered her car into the parking entrance and then down and along until she came to Gena’s spot.

As directed, after she had parked, she removed her dress and tossed it into the back seat once again on top of her purse. Miss Gena had sent her a pass key for the parkade, and as Julie walked in her sandals across the concrete, wearing only her lingerie, she felt like she might pass out before even reaching the elevator.

The ride to the sixth floor was interrupted by a woman getting on, casting a quick glance at Julie and then focusing on the doors, before getting off on the fifth.

Each floor of the building contained four loft-units, and Julie walked quickly to ‘C’ before knocking. Miss Gena answered and instructed Julie to crawl in, attaching a leash to her collar once the slave had entered. Gena lead Julie into the open living room to where Courtney sat on a couch.

It was to be only Courtney and Gena as mistresses tonight, although Carolyn, Courtney’s submissive neighbor, was present; she apparently was quite distraught at Courtney’s leaving and jumped at the chance to serve her tonight. She was kneeling in front of the couch wearing her red lingerie; the exact same type, just a different color, from Julie’s.

The two slaves were first instructed to remove each other’s panties before sniffing each other ‘like dogs’, Miss Gena laughed. Gena then paddled both woman’s asses until they had a ‘nice glow’, and then Julie was placed to watch Carolyn service her mistress, something she found agonizing but intensely arousing.

After a few moments, Miss Gena positioned Julie behind Carolyn’s still reddened ass and had her begin to lick Slave-number-two’s genitals and anus, as Miss Gena now sat back and relaxed with her glass of Chardonnay; Miss Courtney lay with her eyes closed and a wide smile on her face.


“So, feeling good about this, still?” Dr. White asked, as he and Claire were having dinner in another nice restaurant, before heading back to the White’s.

Claire smiled, “Really? We’re sitting here having a wonderful meal, and then we’re going, um, home, to have sex for an hour or two, and you’re asking if I’m good?” She snorted, “Just ask me if I’m nuts, because I’d have to be, not to be loving this.”

Claire was feeling decidedly positive tonight, what with the dinner date and the promise of another weekend of loving; she also had the interesting and amazing talk with the mysterious and beautiful Courtney on her mind. The discussion of what the young woman wanted done with Mrs. White was exciting and encouraging. Claire had long-believed that she would ‘love in vain’ when it came to the good doctor, but she was okay with hanging in as long as she could.

Courtney Farrell gave her hope that possibly ‘more’ might be on the horizon. Claire smiled as White reached across the table and stroked her hand.


Courtney unclipped the wrist bands that attached Carolyn to the large, wooden, punishment structure. The woman and Julie had been bound face-to-face for over an hour as the two Mistresses used pleasure and pain toys on them; everything from clips, to paddles, to floggers, to insertions.

Courtney now led Carolyn to Gena, positioned the slave’s face between Gena’s thighs and removed the blindfold.

She then returned to the frame and released Julie, leading her to the second couch and then Courtney’s own vagina, which Julie assaulted with eagerness. Courtney had held back, wanting to keep this until near the end of the evening; Carolyn was pleasant but Julie, and this was simply a tongue licking, genitals exercise, was better. Excellent, Courtney pondered, and she considered herself something of an expert.

Carolyn, for example, had aroused her but with no climax. Even as she lay, with Julie’s tongue searching into the crevices of her labia and deeper, Courtney could feel the arousal coming, like a train that will arrive on time and with fanfare. She reached over and picked up the hand vibrator, placing the round head against her clit as Julie sucked and worked the fleshy folds beneath.

“Ummmmmm,” Courtney murmured, as Gena called out with release from the other couch, this is the life, she thought. But unexpected and uncalled for, Kyle Gilbertson’s face hovered briefly in her mind, before being swept away in Courtney’s orgasm, only to return moments later as she lay, stroking her slave’s dense, dark hair.

She needed to deal with him; she knew that. She just wasn’t sure how.


“Oh, oh God. Unnnh, Ohhh, Ohhhh!” Dr. White called out as he slapped his loins a final time against Claire’s round, inviting ass, before slumping with a groan onto her back. They stayed like that, both breathing hard, letting their heart rates slow, until Claire extricated herself and went to the ensuite, returning in a moment with a warm face cloth.

When the good doctor was all cleaned up he collapsed on the bed, a smile on his face and his arm across his eyes. Before joining him, Claire reached over and picked up her cell, which had been placed strategically before the love-making had begun. Taking the device she went into the ensuite and sat on the toilet, watching the video for a minute, a smile on her face. She was pretty sure this is what Courtney Farrell was looking for.


Carolyn had been placed in a large dog cage in the second spare room (got it this morning, Gena had announced, using some of the five hundred dollars Courtney had collected from Julie to ‘pay for things’.)

Julie, meanwhile, was kneeling, eyes down, by the large dining table, located at one end of Gena’s open living room; she rarely used this, but this was an occasion.

Tonight, she and Courtney were seated, the ‘Slave Agreement’ resting before them. They had had ‘the slave’ read the document aloud, and then had her sign it. Courtney had just added her signature and now the sheet was passed to Gena to witness. Gena smiled as she put the pen back down, saying “It’s official.”

“Look at me, Slave,” Courtney said, quietly, and Julie looked up, fighting emotion. “What does your collar say?”

Julie swallowed hard and took a breath, “It says, property of Courtney, mmm, Mistress.”

Courtney lovingly stroked Julie’s face with the long fingers of one elegant hand, its red-painted nails standing out against the light brown skin. “And you understand what that…means?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Courtney smiled and stretched out her legs. She had put her best black shoes back on. “Lick my shoes, completely, then suck the heels,” Courtney murmured.

“Y-yes, Mistress,” Julie croaked out and bent her face forward, licking as she had been shown, two long strokes with her full tongue, and then three gentle, loving kisses. Her job would be complete when her mistress said it was, whether that was five minutes or an hour. “We’re such divas,” Courtney had smirked earlier and Gena had laughed, arguing they were actually princesses. Courtney had then laughed as well.

“After this, you’ll be allowed to lick Miss Gena’s ass; you know how much she enjoys your lovely tongue, hmmmm Slave?”

From her knees, Julie murmured, “Yes, Mistress.”

Across the room, Gena sat with an odd smile upon her face as she watched this display, a picture of the slave contact on her cell, ready to be sent off.


Mrs. Ramos was reading to Abigail; she had chosen an old-fashioned fairy-tale, because she knew neither Julie nor Christopher read these. It was The Princess and The Pea. “So the prince took her to be his wife, for now he was sure that he had found a real princess.” She concluded and closed up the book.

“And they lived happier ever after?” Abigail asked, her hazel eyes bright.

Mrs. Ramos chuckled, “They always do, right?” She smiled at her pretty grand-daughter.

“Gram, Do you think she could really feel it, you know, through the ummmm, mattresses?”

Mrs. Ramos smiled. “Well, I guess she could, if she was a really princess.”

Abigail grinned. “I’d like to be a really princess.”

“You are my dear,” Mrs. Ramos said, tucking the covers under the girl’s chin. “You already are.”

(End of Chapter 10) 

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A Sanctuary of One by LongDarkRoad Chapter 9 So Strange

A Sanctuary of One

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 9 So Strange, The Way Love Comes And Goes

“My lord, look how Abigail is doing,” Daniel White commented as the girl rode in a circle on her pony. Della Ostrander, who had once trained Olympic riders and had a stable one acreage over, was working with both Abigail and Noah this early Sunday morning.

Mrs. White was smiling and sipping her coffee; the morning was beautiful and she always loved coming to this place, shared with Daniel’s brother and sister, although she (especially she) and Daniel were here much more frequently. Since none of them in the past had wanted to be outside New York for long stretches, all having access to this property made it feasible to keep all these years. Joyce however had begun considering making this their main residence. Time would tell.

But her grandchildren (Abigail most strongly) had been pestering for months about riding, and Ostrander had been able to finally secure the small mounts that made sense. “Abigail’s a natural, kind of like me,” Joyce White replied, watching how the girl was sitting firmly on the training saddle.

“And, I guess it’s good that Christopher and um, the wife, can have some time together on the weekend,” Daniel noted with a look at Joyce. “They’re both so …busy.”

“Yes, very busy,” Joyce smirked, an odd smile on her face.


Claire placed the plate on the table before Christopher. “I know your, house keeper, nanny, what-cha-ma-call-it is a great cook, but I hoped you’d be happy with this,” she smiled.

Dr. White regarded the two eggs, sunny-side up, the four pieces of crisp bacon, the hash browns and the whole wheat toast and smiled up at his assistant, who was wearing her bra and nothing else, and murmured, “Everything is wonderful, my dear Claire.” He looked down at her light brown bush. “Everything.”


Miss Courtney and Miss Gena were seated at the small glass table in Gena’s kitchen. They’d just finished their soft-boiled eggs and bran muffins, and were now drinking coffee; Courtney generally only drank coffee on weekends.

Below them on the floor, on her hands and knees, ‘slave-girl’ Julie was eating cereal from a large, metal, dog bowl. The bowl was embellished with the single word ‘BITCH’ in large, black letters. As the woman ate, Gena would dip her toes into the mixture and the slave-girl would clean them off as well.

“She’s done,” Gena now commented, placing two toes from her left foot into Julie’s mouth, as Courtney rubbed between the kneeling woman’s legs; from behind and with her bare right foot.

Courtney nodded. “Okay, follow me, Slave-doobie,” she commanded, standing and heading to the spare bedroom with Julie following, still on all fours. In a few minutes Courtney returned, resumed her seat, picking up her coffee cup.

“So what’s your plan, Miss Courtney?” Gena smirked, impishly, “your slave-girl has, um, devotion up the yin-yang, hey?”

Courtney smiled back; what Gena said was true and obvious to anyone who had watched the previous evening. Courtney was surprised herself with how Julie had responded to the ‘servitude’ and the punishment. The woman was, even as Courtney had joked about it, a true closet-submissive; someone who had sought submission instinctively but blindly and without result; until now.

As for Julie herself, tied now with her wrists and ankles to the four bedposts (Gena had ordered this style of bed on purpose; she wanted any slaves punished here to be tied in this classic manner; it was her favorite) she lay with her mind full of images, even when she was blind-folded, she knew how she looked. Why had she never realized this about herself?

Perhaps she had, only to deny it. What happened next? She should, she scolded herself, feel shame and regret. Common sense said she should fight her bonds and run away; but that was not what she wanted, at all.

She wanted to see Courtney’s face smiling down at her, she wanted to feel the woman’s soft hands caress her body; she wanted to please her, obey her, demonstrate her feelings to her, again and again.

This couldn’t be love, could it, she wondered again? Love could not be this strange.

Could it?

But then, she also wanted the other. The amazing way her dominants used pain was effective. There had been a point last night where Julie’s labia were being spanked, when the pain stopped, even though the rubber device continued to strike. The pain, or how it registered, had changed in some way Julie could not understand; but it somehow built into her arousal. She had begun arching her torso to meet the measured strokes, wanting them. The strong orgasm that had followed had washed over her; she had cried out and laughed and felt bliss. Bliss, not love. But who knew?

Now, as Julie lay bound and displayed on the bed, the two concepts, love and bliss, and their companions, pain and pleasure, came together.


“So,” Claire murmured, leaning against White as they sat on the couch. “when does…everyone, um, get home?”

“It’s actually going to be a little late, considering it’s Sunday. My parents will have the kids home a little before seven; that’s the plan. I’m thinking Julie will be home a little before that,” Christopher replied quietly.

They sat in silence for a bit. “You’re surprised that she’s with, a woman?” Claire murmured. White had told her a little about Julie’s…situation; what he knew, which wasn’t much.

White nodded his head. “Oh yeah, floored, really. This whole thing is crazy, you and me, Julie and her romantic interest. Crazy.”

“But,” Claire ventured, “you’re okay with what, um, you and I are doing?”

White turned to look at her, gently stroking her face. “Oh heavens, yes. This is amazing, like a dream. How do you feel?”

Claire nodded, “Like a dream is good. But it’s a dream I don’t want to wake up from.” She leaned over and kissed him; they held the kiss for a long while.”



“Right. I said, so, what are you gonna’ do with her?” Gena asked, still smiling.

Courtney looked up, “Why?”

Gena snorted, “We’ve known each other a bit here, Courts, and I’ve seen you with women. This one’s different, hey?”

Courtney contemplated. Julie was different, this relationship was…different. Just how and what that meant, Courtney had not decided. “You should move in here, Courtney.” Gena continued, mind working. “How much stuff do you have? Not much, I’ve seen your little box of a place. What’s your prob, don’t like hand-outs? Hey, tell you what, pay me whatever you’re payin’ now, don’t care girl what it is.” Gena said, rapid-fire.

Courtney regarded the woman, resting her face on her fist. She would die to live here; her place was an embarrassment. “Why would you want me here?”

Pausing, Gena then moved her spoon from one place to another, before looking up into those green-blue eyes.

At times, Courtney seemed like the wisdom of the ages,  at others, like a child.

“Take a look at this place, hey, twenty-four hundred square feet. You’ve got your slave in one spare bedroom; the room beside it has nothing but some empty boxes in it. My sked is flex and you’re gone all day, so not like we’re in each other’s business, right. But then, we have, um, our…hobby” She smiled at this and Courtney smiled, too.

It had been clear from the start that she and Gena liked doing similar things…to women. Hannah was different; quite different, and Dakota just followed along. But Gena was experienced and understood how to… Courtney pondered the word, ‘use’; that word made sense. Gena knew how to use a woman to please her; how much punishment, how much humiliation was necessary. Every submissive personality was different, but there were common traits, and Gena understood that.

When the two of them had worked on a woman, they hardly needed to talk; they seemed to be in sync, but Courtney was really just following the experienced lead. And since Courtney was…confused, about her feelings toward Julie White, having Gena with her made sense. And living here made sense; more than that. Why was she reluctant, she wondered?

“You know, she’s married, right?” Courtney said quietly.

“No shit,” Gena replied after a moment, one eyebrow raised.

“And she has two kids.” Courtney continued.

“Shit.” Gena replied, again. “Oh, and what the fuck’s her, like, real name, it’s not Doobie, I hope?” She asked mildly and with a grin, standing and moving to the sink.

“Julie White. Her hubby’s a doctor.”

Gena stood facing away, rinsing her hands, a small smile on her face. “No shit,” she murmured again.   ****

Claire wandered over and looked out the window; the view of the park moved her. How wonderful it would be to wake up and come and look out this window, she thought, considering her own home and the row of ordinary houses facing it. 

But it wasn’t just Dr. White’s wife who stood between her and this view; they had two children. “I should be rollin’, you know,” she said, as White entered.

“Let’s go grab a bite, my parents will feed the kids and everything, so the two of us could have an early dinner.”

She looked at him. “I could make us something.”

“You shouldn’t have to work; this is like a little vacation.”

She took a couple of steps to him and put her arms around his neck. “I want to, Sir. I like the thought of making you dinner.”

He looked down at her. “Hmmmm. That’s funny, because I like the thought of you making me dinner.” After the words had left his mouth he could not believe he had said them. Strange. But stranger still was that he had meant it.


Julie buried her face into the warm, tantalizing vagina of her…mistress. They had agreed that that was what Courtney was, and Julie was her slave. She had agreed to that, to those…words.

“What happens next?” Courtney had asked, after untying  Julie and bringing her to kneel in the living room. Julie had just stared; this was beyond her.

“What…do you want?” Julie had then asked, heart pounding as always and anxiety spreading though her, fearful that this beautiful woman would say, “Nothing, we’ve had some fun but it’s over.”

Except Courtney hadn’t said that; she had said, “What happens next depends on you, Doobie. I think we both know, like, what you are, and what we are. We’re not BFF’s or anything like that, right. You are on your knees, which is where you so belong, yes?”

Julie remembered the stab within her that these words had produced, and she had whispered, “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Courtney had prodded.

“Yes, Miss Courtney, I, um, I belong on my knees.” And it was true; in this…relationship, she was very happy to be in this position, ready to serve her, it had to be said, mistress.

“So, I can use you how I like, right? As long as you are with me, you are content?” All of this was true, and Julie had nodded her head. “So, that makes you my slave, doesn’t it?”

Julie had looked at the floor silently, her insides in knots; she had been unable to speak, at first, just nodding her head once again, until finally Miss Courtney had pulled it from her, and Julie had said those amazing words, “I am your slave and will do what you wish; I am content to be with you. It is my place.”

Gena had gone somewhere, leaving these two alone to figure out their deal. When Gena returned, she had found Julie in this position, face pressed into Courtney’s crotch, tongue working to please her mistress. Gena stood behind the crouching figure and held up an object; a black leather collar with the word ‘SLAVE’ embossed on it.

“This works, she who must be obeyed?” Gena asked, holding the object, a twinkle again in her eye, as if she were enjoying a private joke.

Courtney laughed and nodded. “Yeah. Look, sweet doobie, we have something for you.”

Julie turned on her knees and looked up, then taking the collar that was handed to her. She held it for a moment and then put it on, the other satin one lying off somewhere. She then sat straight, as both Courtney and Gena took a picture of her with their phones.

“We’ll have our slave put out the food, hey?” Courtney commented, looking at the bag Gena had brought in, its aroma announcing Thai take-out. “We need to have her back home in a couple of hours.”


Julie arrived home just a few minutes before Mr. and Mrs. White dropped off Noah and Abigail, so Christopher and Julie had not been forced to go through an awkward ‘so how was your weekend’ scenario. Angel had stayed to help with baths and etcetera and then both parents spent time being regaled with the weekend’s adventures.

Angel then got a jump on Monday by making the kid’s lunches, and by the time the house quieted down, Julie was in the bath, with some wine, several candles burning and her device playing music for her to relax by.

Christopher poked his head in, “I’d come in and chat but you have Sarah McLachlan on again and that’s always a red flag.”

Julie laughed and waved at him, “Yeah, let’s just let things be for tonight. But we should talk tomorrow.”

Christopher looked at his wife, her head floating on a blanket of bubbles. “Yes, that works. But I guess the fact we’re both still here is good, right?”

Julie smiled up at him; he seemed happy, not just his usual calm self, but happy. “Yes, maybe we can have our cake and eat it?” She said and watched as he waved and then was gone. What would happen now, she wondered? Was there any going back from this?

She belonged to Courtney Farrell; belonged to her, was her property; there was no point trying to avoid that. She would do whatever the woman wanted. What now of her marriage, her children, her home? She was, and there was a surge of arousal saying this, a slave. She was Courtney Farrell’s slave.

Those thoughts should by all accounts have filled her with apprehension, regret, fear. But they didn’t; her mind was just on Miss Courtney’s lovely face, leaning in to kiss her good-bye; the soft fragrance of the woman, the wonderful feel of her lips, and the sound of her voice saying, “You belong to me, Julie White. I’ll be in touch, my love.”

My love, Julie pondered. Did that mean the same to that young woman as it did to her? Could it?

Courtney was taking a break; after sending her ‘slave’ home, she had accepted a half dozen boxes from Gena and headed back to her little basement suite; she had then begun to pack. She had made her decision and would move into Gena’s as soon as possible. Her place had only a month left on its six month lease, so she had no obligations.

Earlier in the afternoon she had received another offer from Marcie Woodhouse, a shoot for her, personally, for Wednesday afternoon; it was with an exclusive New York designer and could be the start of something. Maybe her life was changing course.

She sat down on her worn couch (she agreed with Gena to just give away most of her furniture, if anyone would take it, or it was off to the landfill) with her tea in hand. She sipped some and put down the cup, picking up her cell and opening the picture of Julie White, kneeling with her collar on. Damn, Courtney thought, that’s so, so cool.

She was startled however when her phone chimed a call, and even more startled to see the I.D.

It was her mother.


Julie was happy Monday morning when Jasmine came in with the acceptance of a campaign offer from a mouthwash company; work was necessary to keep her mind off ‘things’. Jasmine had some good ideas and it was almost eleven before Julie had a moment to herself.

Sitting here in her office, looking down over the busy street, it was possible to imagine that the last weekend had been some sort of movie she had witnessed, as opposed to a play that she had starred in. However, the image of Courtney’s face and the familiar reaction it provoked was all it took to remind her of the path she had begun walking down.

How do you break a habit? She pondered. Force of will for sure, but the problem with addiction was that the desired thing was usually compellingly sweet and filled some need in the addict.

Even now, sitting in her chair, Julie imagined herself naked and on her knees, licking her mistress’s shoes. Fighting the impulse for a moment, she gave in and took out her cell. “I wish I was on my knees with you, I am your slave,” she texted to Courtney, and then sat back, ashamed and aroused, fearful as always that she would be ignored, fleetingly angry at her weakness, but excited at the thought of her mistress reading the message and thinking of her.

And there was of course the truth that she really did want to be on her knees for this woman, and others. She had after all keenly served all four women on Friday, accepting, even wanting their abuse.

She was one sick addict.


Mondays were always busy at the shelter; weekend hangover, the workers called it. Courtney had been busy interviewing and processing four women, one of whom needed convincing to go to a clinic for some necessary attention. Not for the first time, Courtney asked herself if what she was doing made any difference. Only one of the four women seemed to be leaning toward leaving an abusive relationship, the rest were just seeking sanctuary.

It was past one before she was able to grab a bowl of soup and some salad in their volunteer-run cafeteria; how grateful she was for the ladies group that looked after this. The soup today was vegetable barley and was delicious. As she ate, images of Julie came to mind as well as the previous evening’s conversation with her mother.

It had started with the usual, “Haven’t heard from you for so long I thought you’d died,” and progressed from there. Even though her rape was now half of her life away, Courtney could not forgive her mother for leaving her, from her perspective, out on a very precarious limb. Even though the move to Buffalo ultimately proved positive in many ways, because it was done for wrong and poor reasons, it would never be okay.

“We really don’t have much to talk about, Mother,” Courtney had said quietly (so why call, she had thought). She didn’t hate her mother, not anymore, anyway; she simply felt nothing. There was no way they could ever have a pleasant mother slash daughter talk. Wasn’t going to happen.

“But I think about you every day, dear,” her mother had said, also quietly.

“How’s the job going?” Courtney murmured.

There was a pause here, as both women knew that particular question was code for ‘you screwed me over for your own gain’.

Mrs. Farrell sighed. “My job keeps a roof over my head and food on my table, Courtney, as it did for you for several years.” The two women sat, each hearing the other’s breathing. “There isn’t a day goes by I don’t remember what happened. I know I didn’t handle it well, but it was the best I could do. They would’ve destroyed you, Courtney, and me too. Sometimes you need to just take the best option and move on.”

Courtney began to feel anxiety rising; this always happened whenever the conversation with her mother lasted more than a couple of minutes. It was like she was tied down again and couldn’t get out. She could hear the laughter and the taunts, she could do nothing but endure whatever the boys decided to push into any of her openings. The taste of cum and the smell of beer-breath were things she would never forget.

But, sadly, she knew her mother was right; the two of them were nobodies and the one boy’s father was a wealthy and influential man, with friends in the police  force and on city council. The cum-stained panties her mother had given to the police disappeared, for example.

“I needed you to…comfort me, Mother. Whatever happened, I needed you to care for me.” Courtney was surprised that tears were now running down her face; she rarely cried.

Her mother took a breath. “I know, dear. I was unable to function. I don’t know w-why.”

The seconds ticked by. “What were their names?” Courtney asked; amazingly, she had never asked that basic question before.

“Why?” Her mother asked softly.

“I’d just like to know.”

There was a long pause. Sighing again, Mrs. Farrell said, “The only last name I know is Gilbertson, because that was the father.”

“Kyle…” Courtney had murmured.

Now that she knew, fourteen years later, did it matter?

She roused herself from her thoughts as a volunteer came by to collect her tray. She took out her cell again and read the message from her slave. “I wish I was on my knees with you, I am your slave.”

She smiled and typed, “That’s sweet, Slave, and correct. Have you typed up the agreement yet? Your ass will be punished one way or the other, but it’s always better when I’m happy.” Smiley-face emoji.

After sending the text, a thought came to her.


Julie was deep in thought about…mouthwash, when her cell vibrated. Picking it up with anticipation, she felt the surge when she saw who the message was from. Quickly reading it, she opened her desk and removed the sheet of paper she had printed off this morning. It was a detailed agreement between herself, as Slave and Miss Courtney, as Mistress. Reading the document over now filled her again with foreboding and exquisite arousal. (After creating it earlier, she had needed to escape to a washroom to masturbate; it was bizarre beyond belief but so…real.)

In the agreement she would be Courtney’s property on the weekends, from Friday at six p.m. to Sunday afternoon at four. She would dress however her mistress decided and would be used sexually as her mistress chose.

Her mistress could punish her, and here there was a list of all the various ways from hot wax to whips, with the slave having a safe word; ‘lipstick’, to stop the abuse. However, there was a comment warning that if the slave used the word three times in a single day, then the agreement was terminated and the Slave/Mistress relationship ended.

Julie and Courtney were to sign the agreement Friday at Gena’s, with her acting as a witness. Julie texted back that the agreement was finished. “You are a devoted little bitch, aren’t you?” was the response, and Julie’s hand shook slightly as she replied, “Yes, my mistress.”

She then sat back in her chair with her eyes closed; she would let Christopher know tonight. Well, not everything, but most things. How did this happen? She asked herself with wonder, even as she fondled herself through the fabric of her slacks, as a vision of herself on a leash came to her. How does anything happen?

There was a soft rap on her door which jolted Julie into reality, followed by the entrance of Jasmine, who stood with an odd look on her face.

“Yes?” Julie asked, flustered.

Jasmine came slowly to stand beside Julie, seated as she was. “I just received a, um, crazy-like text from Courtney Farrell,” Jasmine murmured, reaching down and grasping a breast. Julie started, but the mention of her mistress meant she moved easily into submissive mode. “Come with me…Slut-Slave.”

Her heart pounding furiously, Julie followed Jasmine’s round ass down the hall and to the washroom farthest from their office. Once inside, Jasmine spun Julie so she faced the wall. Without any discussion, Julie was soon leaning on the wall as Jasmine pulled down her slacks and panties. “Your mistress wants you to have some reminders of your place,” Jasmine whispered into Julie’s ear, before slapping her ass hard.

In a moment Julie was on her knees, her face between Jasmine’s thighs, buried in the thick tangle of black hair, her tongue busy as the young woman ground her hips into Julie’s face.

 (End of Chapter 09)