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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 11 Beliefs, Promises, Agreements & Lies

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 11 Beliefs, Promises, Agreements & Lies 

Amara and Stavros had been on the road almost three days. Starting from Craiova they drove the five ton to Krakow, or at least a farm just outside, where they located the barn and the three statues, the heaviest of which was fifty kilos. Amara was thankful that she had chosen Stavros, who was young, large and strong.

They then drove to a warehouse in the city where they loaded the truck with boxes of legitimate electronics, which they would need for the border crossings, as they were headed for Germany.

Now, nearing the end of their journey, they were approaching Stuttgart, and the estate of a wealthy German industrialist who had bought the three statues. Doukas had paid Sabău fourteen million American dollars for the three stone images of Christ and a property in New Jersey. The property wasn’t worth much in the overall scheme, but gave the business the appearance of a legitimate transaction. He sent the paperwork to Nicole, which Amara noted. She also noted the smile on Doukas’s face.

Today, the German would transfer twenty-four million American dollars into one of Doukas’s accounts, as well as a property in Germany, near Berlin.

“Stop here,” Amara said, and Stavros pulled over as Amara looked closely at her GPS. “Ok, just up there.” They were in an area of estates and the villas had German names on the signs, not numbers. They found the one that translated to ‘Wolf’s Lair’ (charming, Amara thought) and pulled up to the gate.

Twenty minutes later the truck was exiting the grounds and Doukas was millions of dollars ahead; if it mattered, Amara pondered. She had noted the clear evidence that Herr Busch was a closet Nazi; and that disturbed her.

“Let it go,” Stavros said in Greek. “What difference does it make to you who has the fucking statues. They’re just stone statues.”

But Amara knew that wasn’t the case. They were created by a Jewish artist and had meaning for the Jewish people. She knew her discussion with Gilad would be different from Stavros.

“I’m starved,” was Amara’s reply.

Two hours later, they had found a hotel and then a restaurant in Stuttgart. They were lounging with German coffees after just consuming two pitchers of German beer to wash down large portions of pork Schnitzel and dumplings; followed of course by chocolate cake.

Two hours later, Amara lay beside the large, sleeping form of Stavros. Earlier he had pounded her to her satisfaction for over an hour. “Young and strong,” she said to herself. I needed that, she thought, although at that moment the image of Nicole, lying naked with her hands tied over her head, came to her.

Some day, before too long.

Amara leaned against the solid mass beside her and slept.


“Hello Am,” the deep voice of Gilad answered the early morning call, “I was planning on calling you, so thanks.”

“Yeah, it has been a few weeks.”

“Things in this business move very slowly,” Gilad noted. “I’m hoping you have something.”

“I do.” And Amara told him of all the dealings with the statues; Gilad listening intently apart from an uttered profanity here and there.

“A Nazi, son-of-a-bitch, it would be. Those bastards will never let it go.”

“I agree,” Amara said without emotion. She could understand Gilad’s reaction; time does not heal all things. But her dealings with Germans over the years had mostly been positive. Nazis on the other hand; they would always be bad news.

“I would like to pay this Mr. Busch a call.” Gilad said.

“You can’t; not yet. I am the only one who knows of him so Doukas would know I betrayed him. It is not time; you must be patient.”

Gilad grunted.

“After all,” Amara noted, “it has been over seventy years. A few months more is not too hard to bear.”


Susan and Beth were out walking in Sorrento. They had stopped and were looking north over the Bay of Naples. Although it was October, the days were still mild here, by the sea. “This is lovely, my sweet,” Beth said, wrapping an arm around the waist of her ‘pet’. “We’ve been here what, three weeks?”

“Three,” Susan agreed, resting her head on the other’s shoulder.

“I’ve seen these cliffs and ravines every day for three weeks, yet when I look at them, I’m still moved.”

“Speaking of moved, maybe we should move here?”

Beth looked at her, “Are you being serious?”

“It is peaceful and lovely and it’s like two hours to drive to Rome. We could probably buy a little villa. You could throw parties.” Susan winked.

Beth chuckled and smiled. “It sounds enticing, but I still need to make some more money. I’m not ready to retire just yet; but it is lovely; we have found this and enjoyed this. It certainly has appeal.”

They turned and walked in a leisurely fashion, soon reaching the Piazza Tasso, in the center of the town. They strolled among the mellow old buildings, past numerous little tourist boutiques until they came upon a restaurant that appealed to them. They were holding hands and unconcerned for the occasional stare. It was a wonderful holiday atmosphere. As they walked, Susan was remembering.

One week into their Italian trip, while still in Rome, Beth had taken her slave to a ‘party’, thrown by a long-time friend, former lover and, like Beth, a dominant. She had in the last year moved to Rome and was living on a splendid estate.

Beth and Roxanne had stayed in touch, aware of their similar tastes and needs. Roxanne was delighted when Beth called to say she would be coming to Italy with a new slave. Roxanne put the event together just for her.

Susan was remembering that weekend, for it ended up extending to Sunday evening from Friday night. There were twelve dominants invited: three couples, two solo males and four solo females. Everyone had a slave; the couples bringing two to ensure that.

It was Susan’s first time being naked and available as a slave in a group setting. Both Nicole and Beth had taken her to restaurants and there had been brief moments, but this was a slave party. Susan wore a collar with Beth’s name on it and nothing else, from Friday ‘til Sunday.

Over that time, the slaves were fondled, groped, spanked (no whippings) tied up, had objects inserted into all openings, made to have sex with each other and of course, fucked by all. Susan was amazed by a number of her reactions. She was amazed at how incredibly aroused she was just by being part of it; she was amazed at enjoying being fucked by a man, although having Beth watching was what made it work for her. She was amazed by her number or orgasms; she had lost track, but knew it was seven or eight ‘good’ ones and a number of briefer, less intense but still pleasant ones.

When it was over, Susan had spent Monday just lying around, recovering. “We need to give that pussy a rest,” Beth had smiled and Susan had agreed, although thinking of doing it again got her excited. “So how did you like being fucked by an actual penis, attached to a man?” Beth asked, the smile still on her face.

“If you hadn’t been there, it would have been different; that I believe. But from an arousal, um, sense, I liked it. A lot, really. I need to remember, not every man is as lame as Roland, bless his heart. But forget me, what about you? You seemed to enjoy your um, fucking.” Susan laughed, remembering Beth at one point having one man humping her energetically from behind as she sucked the cock of a man in front.

Both men had their partners watching, and Susan was bound, kneeling, beside her mistress so she could observe the cock sliding in and out of the hole she worshipped. “I liked it, but again, you were there and that excited me no end. Remember, sweetie, I was married for four years to a man who had one of those penis things. The first two years the sex was really good, so I’m not down on men. Or penises. I prefer women; or, certain women.”

Beth had then come over and planted a kiss on Susan’s vagina. “Like you,” she laughed.

Since that weekend, it had just been the two of them, sometimes hot sex, but generally just being together and being close; touching, kissing. Tenderness, Susan would describe it as. Like tonight, just walking together and talking and touching; being close. It was wonderful.

I am so, so, so lucky, Susan told herself several times.

Now they had finished a lovely, shared seafood platter and were finishing their wine when Beth looked across the table and asked, “Still miss Nicole?”

Susan looked back at Beth, who looked enchanting with the sun now highlighting her blonde head. She pondered. She could say several things, but she said the truth. “No, I don’t miss Nicole. I have lovely memories of her. But I have you. Or, you have me, whatever works. I am so lucky,” she said, her thoughts now out there with the early evening calls of the seabirds and the warm glow of being with someone you care for deeply.


Hailey was tied down on a bench; there was a thin cushion covering the bench, but the main idea was that she be at a certain height. She had a blindfold over her eyes because someone thought that would be cool; it wouldn’t have mattered because she had only previously seen one of the five black girls that were taking turns using a strap-on with her.

Roshana, the black girl Hailey had licked to orgasm in the park several weeks back, was familiar. Alexis had enjoyed watching her slave used by a ‘black ho’ and had made contact with the girl, bringing her once to Hailey’s house and once to her own.

The sessions that followed, to Hailey’s mind anyway, had been more intense but less pleasurable. The idea of being used and abused was no longer arousing to her; Hailey wasn’t sure why and wasn’t sure what to say to Alexis, which was why she was now in this position, being gang-banged by a group of black girls.

As Roshana had advertised it to her squad, ‘bring your fav dildo and use it on a white bitch’. It was now an hour in and everyone had had at least one turn and  Hailey had just been turned over and everyone would have a second go.

Alexis was over to one side of the room where she could see everything. One of the black girls was eating her out as well, which was the price she had charged. Each girl who wanted to ‘hump the ho’ had to go down on her, too.

“Uhhhh, ummmm,” Alexis moaned. “Black girls know how to eat pussy!” she yelled out.

“True dat,” Violet, a tall, slim girl called back, as she slowly forced her stubby four-inch black phallus into Hailey’s dark, brown hole. “An’ we knows how to fuck good, too. Specially white ho’s.”

The girls who had them raised beers; everyone hooted.


Nicole considered carefully as she wrote a note to (that bitch) Sheffield. The note and some papers were going back to Doukas; some legal matter, and Nicole was taking this opportunity to pursue the issue of Tatjana. What she wanted was for the girl to be left in her care for the next year or two; clearly Doukas realized there was something ‘off’ with her and it was a risk dealing her somewhere else. Nicole was prepared to look after her; she just wanted it confirmed.

Nicole walked the envelope down to Dani’s desk. “Hey there.” Dani greeted her as Nicole passed the envelope over. Through the door to her right, Nicole noticed Peter van der Strom’s wife in his office with him. This was unusual.

“Hi yourself. Can you get this away for me?”

“Sure, Ms. W.” Dani smiled.

“So, what’s going on with the boss’s wife? She’s never in.” Nicole nodded toward the office.

Dani looked through the glass partition. “Not sure, but Mr. VDS got calls this morning and he’s headed over to London.”

The next several moments had Dani filling Nicole in on a Dionysus development involving the need for a partner and concerning some major European business. Peter was handling it himself, and would be gone for several days. “I think Geneva is just here picking up some stuff that needs dealing with.”

Nicole had always found Geneva attractive, even though she was far from a classic beauty. She was about Nicole’s height and slim; ‘delicate’ Nicole would describe the woman, with modest breasts and what would likely be called mousey, uninspired hair worn long.

But what had attracted Nicole were the woman’s eyes; and her demeanor. The eyes were enchanting and the demeanor was definitely submissive and Nicole could smell the woman’s need across a room; she was begging to be dominated, but obsessed-with-work and generally clueless Peter would not have recognized the cues if Geneva was wearing a ‘spank me’ sign. At least that was Nicole’s opinion.

She now noticed Dani was…watching her. “What’s with you?” She asked the assistant, who was now sitting with a definite smirk on her face.

“Looking for a replacement for Susan?” Dani asked quietly.

Slightly taken aback (she thought Susan and her had been very discreet) Nicole said, “What are you on about, girl?”

Dani laughed, “Don’t street-talk me, girl-yourself. As if I didn’t know.”

Nicole waited, her heart now pounding; why? “What do you know, kiddo?”

“It’s okay, Nicole. I’m your pal, so no need to go all Daniel Craig on me.”

Nicole continued to just look; unsure of how to handle this.

Dani sighed, smiled and began. “Okay, let’s get this down. A, Nicole is a lesbian; B, Nicole seduces boss and makes her, her girl-toy; C, something happens, now boss is gone, and D, Nicole is now looking around for a new fun and games gal. Oh look, if it isn’t other boss’s pretty and quiet little ‘wifey’, hmmmm, maybe? How am I doin’, girl?” Dani smiled and reached out to rest her hand on top of Nicole’s. “It’s okay. Really. I’m cool with it all. Everything.”

“And you’re good with hanging out with the lesbo?” Nicole smiled.

“Hey, I have my man. I’m good. I got all the lovin’ I can handle; but I like you as a gal-pal, so sure, we’ll hang. No worries, I say.”

At that moment, Geneva came out and started down the hall, but stopped when she saw Nicole. “Oh, Ms. Martin. I was just going to see you.”

“Great, Mrs. V. Let’s grab one of these empty rooms.” As she steered van der Strom to a door, Nicole caught Dani’s face and the wink she gave, forcing Nicole to stifle a laugh.


When Nicole arrived home, Tatjana came out to greet her, taking her coat and briefcase and scurrying off. As she passed the den, she noticed Hailey sitting quietly in the room and paused by the door. “Hey, kid, what’s up?’ Nicole asked.

Hailey looked up with a sad face and asked, “Nicole, can I talk with you?”

“Sure, Hails,” Nicole answered and for the next fifteen minutes Hailey talked and Nicole listened. It was sort of your regular teen-angst situation, except that Hailey’s was complicated by being in a dominant / submissive love relationship, not really regular at all for the average senior. The bottom-line was that there was certainly something in the submission act which Hailey found compelling, but the problem was she was in a relationship with an inexperienced girl who was just trying things out like the proverbial kid in the candy store.

Hailey was being used and abused for Alexis’s pleasure, and she didn’t like it, which meant she had to question her feelings. “How can you be sure of what, like, um, you feel? For real, you know?” she asked, sounding like a girl again, rather than the attractive eighteen-year-old young woman she had developed into.

“So, what do you want to happen, Hails?” Nicole asked, not unkindly. Hailey was quiet for a few moments. Nicole persisted, “Do you want to end this thing with Alexis?” Hailey slowly nodded her head. “You need to tell me so I am sure that this is coming from you.”

Hailey sighed. “Love is hard, hey, Nicole?”

“Yeah, Hailey, in some ways, yeah. But, I’m not sure this is love, y’know. It’s easy to mix up, um, desire with love, ‘cuz the media is always kind of showing them to be the same. It’s what we hear, all the time. But what Alexis did to you tonight, even though you have no physical, um, damage well…that’s not love.”

Hailey nodded her head. “You’re right, Nicole. You’re right. And I do want to end this, um, thing with Alexis. But um, I’m not sure how. She still, uh, has stuff here and everything….”

Nicole patted Hailey’s arm. “That’s okay. I’ll be your lawyer and look after everything.” She smiled and just then Tatjana brought in a glass of wine.


True to her word, next day being Saturday, Nicole summoned Alexis over and had her clothes piled in the entrance way. Alexis was not happy but Nicole was very convincing, and in the end, Alexis left; Hailey stayed in her room the whole time.

Afterwards, she admitted to being a little sad, but relieved.

Get used to it kid, Nicole thought, you got a lot of years left.


In a small park in downtown Paris, the distinguished looking gentleman was sitting and apparently reading a paper. He did not look at the man who came and sat at the end of the bench. That man took out his own paper, and then spoke. “Gryba wants to wait until after the shareholders meeting in December. He has a point. Ousting Doukas now could cause uncertainty, and that makes the masses upset.

The first man sighed. It was not an argument he would win; the writing, as they say, was on the wall. “Fine. I understand. But we need to be ready; I would suggest early January.”

“Agreed.” The second man left. Two pigeons fluttered down and pecked around the remaining man’s feet. “Sorry guys. I have nothing for you today. Not even crumbs.”


In the end, it was agreed; it was easier for Nicole to just go to the van der Stroms and pick up the documents that had been left for her to deal with. Peter van der Strom would be gone at least a week, and he needed Nicole to get onto these affairs Monday.

The Koning residence and the van der Stroms were not far apart. Nicole made the drive in ten minutes and was impressed with the curving drive that swept past mature trees and brought the visitor to the faux Tudor-style home, sitting formidably on a large lot.

Nicole made her way up the wide walk to the impressive oak doors, flanked by two marble lions. Her call was answered by a woman in a black outfit who nonetheless was the maid. She directed Nicole into a cozy den/office that had shelves of books, a large, wooden desk, a love seat and a chair. And a small table with probably twenty folders stacked on it.

Geneva came in wearing a modest light blue dress; her hair in a ponytail; looking younger than her forty-three years. “Good-day, Nicole, May I offer you something? Coffee, tea, water, juice?”

Or you, Nicole thought, but she smiled and said she was fine. She wouldn’t have minded a glass of wine, but it was Sunday morning at eleven, and that was likely not the best idea. They spent the next twenty minutes going over the instructions Peter had left and sorting out the files Nicole was to take. When all was sorted, Geneva said, “I hate to be inhospitable, there must be something to offer. Perhaps a glass of wine?”

Nicole looked at the woman. She was looking very, tantalizing today; her dress suited her slim form and gave her a very feminine aspect. “Actually, a glass of wine would be nice. I know it’s noon, but what the heck, hmmm?”

“I agree,” Geneva smiled and the maid was summoned, brought two glasses of red and announced she was now off.

“Right. That’s fine, Anita. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

The two women sipped their wine and a sort of awkward silence fell over them; neither knowing the other really at all. In the end, a question of children got them talking.

Eventually, Geneva asked, “So you are staying at Susan Koning’s and looking after her daughter. How is that going?”

After the chat about teens and challenges, Geneva, clearly not knowing much about ‘things’, innocently asked, “So, how is it that Susan asked you to do this and where has she gone?”

Nicole, with both of them finished their glass of wine, and Geneva just having refilled them and seeming like she was enjoying the companionship, decided to push the ‘envelope’.

“Susan and I were lovers, Geneva. We are still friends. She has actually moved in with a woman, Beth Gulliver. So she asked if I could be her eyes on Hailey.” Nicole paused and sipped wine, as if she had just advised on stock options. Geneva sat in stunned silence. Nicole moved a little closer and spoke quietly. “It’s okay. I won’t bite. It’s nice, just talking, girl-to-girl, isn’t it?”

Geneva was slightly flustered, and smoothed her hair in a gesture she had. “Um, I guess that is all, uh, very surprising to me. I didn’t know you, um….”

“Liked women?” Nicole added.

Geneva laughed self-consciously and drank some wine; looked at Nicole and then looked away. Nicole continued, “I find that women understand other women in a way that men can’t. I have nothing against men; I’ve had male friends, but I just feel more comfortable with another woman. That’s the way it is. I, um, feel very comfortable with you, Geneva.” As she said this, Nicole brushed a finger along Geneva’s arm, causing the woman to flinch slightly, but she did not move away or object.

Nicole continued. “Be honest with me, Geneva, your sex

life with Peter isn’t much, is it? And you can’t really discuss it with anyone, can you?”

Geneva reddened and stuttered, “I, um, I don’t think that is something we should be speaking of….”

“Why?” Nicole asked, moving a little closer; her knee was now touching Geneva’s.

“Well, um we don’t really know each other….”

“But we do, Geneva. We know each other better than you know. Now humor me; is your sex with your husband fulfilling?”

Geneva gave a little snort, drank more wine and said, quietly, almost with relief, “We haven’t, um, made love in months. Peter is busy….”

Nicole brushed Geneva’s arm again and leaned in to speak quietly near her delicate ear, one that was adorned with two gold rings. “No excuses, Geneva. Peter has never been a good lover, you have gotten by, you have a wonderful home and have raised two children, but emotionally you are empty. You would love to have someone hold you and caress you, wouldn’t you?”

Geneva looked sad for a moment, as she nodded her head. Then Nicole kissed her gently on her neck and then the side of her face. Geneva closed her eyes, her breathing became more rapid. Nicole kissed the delicate ear again and Geneva sighed lightly. Nicole turned Geneva’s face and licked the woman’s lips; once, twice until Geneva followed, trying for a kiss; and then Nicole took the woman’s mouth with her own. They leaned back against the love seat, mouths working, Geneva’s hand was on Nicole’s arm.

“Do you like this, Geneva?” Nicole ran her tongue along Geneva’s throat and attacked the mouth once again, releasing her prey to speak.

“Ummmmmm. Oh, y-yes, uhhh-mmmm. Oh yes, yes I do.”

(End of Chapter 11)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 10 And So It Is, Your Past Remembers You

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 10 And So It Is, Your Past Remembers You 

Amara was looking through her files again, finally finding the number for a certain Mossad agent, still based in Israel.

Considering for a moment, she called the number, feeling some excitement building. Amara had developed excellent emotional control over the years; it was hard to tell what was happening with her, unless she wanted you to know, and she put that skill to work now. She needed to be calm.

She lit the slim joint she had been saving and inhaled deeply as the cell phone rang; once, twice, three times, “Gilad”, the deep voice answered.

“Amara,” came the reply. There was a long pause.

“It has been…a while.” The voice continued.

“It has. But now I have a reason to call. It involves our…friend, Louis Doukas.” Another pause.

“And I am interested in a shady Greek/Brit/American businessman, because…?”

Amara chuckled, “Well, mostly it’s his connections with your other, friends. You know the ones, with the black boots and the generous attitude toward others.”

Pause. “And how would our buddies, the Nazis, be connected to Mr. Doukas?” Gilad spoke quietly, but there was an edge now in his voice.

Amara took another drag on her joint, letting the smoke escape slowly. “Hmmm, it’s their interest in art; others’ art, of course.”

Gilad was now alert, “You think Doukas might be connected to looted World War II art works?”

Amara spoke evenly, keeping the emotion out of her voice, “I don’t think; I know, and I’m close to confirming that at least two paintings he is dealing are from Jewish artists. I will know today.”

“How is Doukas able to do this?” Gilad was part of a group that had been chasing stolen Jewish art for years. But the practice was steeped in deception and handled very cautiously.

“Doukas is very connected, Gilad; better than you can imagine. This is such a lucrative business as you know, money counts. Doukas has always known how to use money, and he is not a person who leaves loose ends.”

“So, how are you aware of this?” Gilad had reason for some skepticism. He had chased leads for many years; most ended nowhere.

Amara took in some more of her joint, then continued. “He mentioned, matter-of-factly several years ago about paintings; I think he had had one too many vodkas and let it slip. Not characteristic of him. He never said another thing, ever, around me; but I got the distinct impression he knew where stuff was, hidden. I think he has begun to liquidate it.”

“Hmmmmm, why now I wonder.” Gilad took a deep breath, lighting his own cigarette. “I wish you would share some of what you are smoking with me,” he chuckled, “but I’ll accept your information for now.”

“Later.” Amara smiled and butted out her joint as she turned off her phone. The smile remained on her face. Maybe, finally, something was happening.


“Ohhhhhhh. Fuuuuuck. Ummmmmm. Fucking fuck fuck!” Hailey moaned; her eyes closed; her wrists and ankles bound to the four corners of Alexis’s bed.

Alexis ran a warm tongue along the side of Hailey’s face, gently biting her ear lobe. “My Slut-slave earned her reward.” Alexis murmured.

Hailey had experienced orgasms before, when masturbating. But the one she had just ridden out, courtesy of Alexis’s fingers and tongue, was different. Like a bomb is different from a firecracker.

“Ohhhhhhh…” Hailey just lay still; her eyes closed,

letting the after-effects of her big ‘O’ take her away. It had been a busy afternoon.

After Hailey had dutifully performed on the black girls taking one to climax, (the other just nodded and said she was good) the two girls had ambled off, leaving Alexis and Hailey, both very aroused.

Alexis made the hard decision to bring Hailey home, to her own bed, where for the last hour they had feverishly explored each other; culminating in Alexis tying Hailey down and bringing her to climax.

“Do you want to be my slave?” Alexis smiled down into Hailey’s face.

Hailey opened her eyes and said, “Sure”, although she wasn’t really certain what that meant; but saying it made her feel good. Her smile then spread across her young, attractive face. She felt a warm glow begin somewhere deep within her and spread, right up to her hair follicles. Alexis unbound her and they embraced and lay quietly.


Daphne Powell stood at the door of Doukas’s hotel room; she had no belongings, not even a suitcase. “I’ll get some stuff at the airport.” She said, with a smile.

Doukas stood, looking thoughtfully at this woman, the first woman he had actually…fucked, in quite a while. “Here.” He said, holding out a flash drive.

“What is this?” Daphne asked.

“All the photos of you.” Doukas said simply. Daphne leaned in and embraced him.

“I know you are…a bad man. Probably a very bad man, but I hope we meet again”, she whispered. She straightened up and looked at him.

“Perhaps one day“, Louis Doukas smiled, and today it was a smile that reached his eyes.


Wednesday morning Nicole, busy with some tedious and

complicated court proceeding notes, was surprised when a voice said, “My, aren’t we busy,” and looked up into the smiling face of Susan.

“Hey, look at you, creeping up on people. Well, you’ve caught me hard at work,” Nicole laughed. “What is it?”

“Here.” Susan handed Nicole a check; it was for thirty thousand dollars, made out to cash.

“What is this for?” Nicole stared first at the check and then at Susan.

“For you.” Susan said simply.

“Oh, no. No, no Susan. I can’t accept this. No way.”


“Well, um, it’s not right, it’s….”

Susan touched Nicole’s hand. “Hey, look, Roland had a large insurance policy I knew nothing about. I have paid off our mortgage. Our house is worth one point eight million. I make five times a year what you make and you can use this money. Why can’t I help someone I…care for, very much.”

Nicole looked up, a lump developing in her throat. She didn’t like to be beholding to people and this had gotten to her. “But it’s not….”

“No buts, my junior employee. Take this and clear off what’s left on your cards and remember, I am always here for you.”

The two women looked at each other for a moment, and then Susan turned and walked away. She felt great.

**** ****


Susan, or ‘My Pet’ as her mistress now called her, lay the sleep wear on the bed and knelt, waiting. In a few moments, Mistress Beth came in and ran her hand gently over her slave. “Very good, my pet.” She said, and began undressing. When she was naked, she picked up the leash attached to her slave’s collar and led her over to a chair, sitting down and spreading her legs. “My pet has earned her reward”, Beth murmured and Susan needed no more encouragement to move in and begin to lick and suck the pink and brown folds of her mistress’s labia.

It had been three weeks now since Susan had moved in with Beth. It had been a very active month, slave-wise, for both Susan and Hailey.

After discussions, Nicole had moved into Chestnut Hill to look after Hailey and the house. It was also agreed that Alexis could move some clothes, etcetera in as well, as she was now spending most of her nights there.

Susan had then been able to move most of her clothes over to Beth’s. This followed a major decision after much discussion, where Susan had approached her partners with a proposal, and at the end of August they had given her a handsome settlement. On September first, Susan had left the firm.

Beth was a very successful business woman and well off, and she liked the idea of Susan belonging to her full time with no need to consider or work around schedules, and with Susan’s move in, it all made sense. They had also agreed that some of the…activities, Beth wanted to do to Susan, public scenes mostly, could not happen as long as Susan was a lawyer with a prestigious firm.

So this worked out well for everyone, and Beth was now planning a holiday in Italy with her slave. A month of sun and travel, and a loving mouth on her pussy every night. Between now and when they left there were a couple of ‘events’ planned to keep things…interesting.

Alexis and Hailey, now just turned eighteen, had also evolved into a mistress/slave routine that Nicole allowed; as long as Hailey kept her grades up; this being her graduation year. If the first reporting period showed any issues, Alexis would be out.

And Nicole had made it clear, despite Hailey’s advances and her now being eighteen, there would be no sexual contact between the two of them (for now anyway, Nicole promised herself; why exactly she was delaying this she

couldn’t say; maybe she just wasn’t ‘ready’. Who knows with feelings? Certainly not Nicole.)

And Nicole was clear that all the mistress/slave ‘stuff’ was to be done away from her eyes; she was not to witness anything, although Hailey could come to her to discuss, well, things.

And then there was Tatjana. Even with Amara’s best efforts, they had not been able to figure out Doukas’s plan for the lovely girl. For now, Doukas had allowed Tatjana to stay with Nicole; she was actually living with them in Chestnut Hill. Nicole had also made it clear to Alexis and Hailey that Tatjana was not part of anything sexual, either as participant or observer. Nothing.

Nicole had come to believe that the young woman had some sort of mental condition; perhaps someday she would discover what that was. What she knew was that the girl acted like she was very young in many ways, like an eight or nine-year-old, and for whatever reason, Nicole was very protective of her.

Doukas was away a lot these days and seemed to be involved with something. Amara knew much, but was reluctant to share the information with Nicole, fearing for her safety. It was one thing to involve someone like Gilad who could look after himself, but Nicole would be kept safe, whatever.

If Doukas ever came to fear any sort of treason or threat, there would be consequences. Amara knew what the man was capable of.


“I wish I could see you,” Nicole murmured into the phone. It was late in Philly which meant it was early over in Europe, whichever country Amara happened to be in. It was Romania (Doukas was there as well it turned out; Sheffield, Amara believed, was in London) at the moment. Amara continued to work diligently for Doukas so as to not arouse any suspicion.

This week she was securing several boxes of rifles

stolen from a Russian arms dealer and being sold to someone in Somalia. Like Sheffield, Amara could not understand why Doukas took these risks. The last chance she had, a few days ago actually, to secretly look over some of Doukas’s finances, she was astounded to see his wealth now between three hundred and four hundred million American dollars. Why he did this petty, risky stuff, who knew; it obviously wasn’t for the money.

“So, what is Doukas up to?” Nicole asked quietly.

“Nothing good,” Amara replied, lighting a joint and evading the answer.

“Hmmmm.” Nicole murmured into her phone. “You see things, c’mon Am, give me at least a taste.”

Amara chuckled, “If I had you here, I would make you work for the info”, she purred.

Feeling somewhat horny; with no real outlet these last few weeks Nicole had relied solely on self-stimulation, which gets old in a hurry; Nicole felt a strong twinge at Amara’s remark. “You wouldn’t need to ask, tall, dark and beautiful. I’d be on my knees in a flash.”

As she said this, with a bit of a chuckle in her voice, Nicole’s hand snaked its way under her black, lace thongs. As she expected, she was moist. “You know I’m wet, just talking with you.”

Amara sighed, “Oh fuck, Nicole, stop that. You just want to drive me insane.”

“But I’m being honest. I have a finger in my pussy and I’m wet as Hell. If you jumped on a plane, how fast could you get here?” Nicole laughed, but her finger was busy.

“Not fast enough, I’m afraid.” Amara finished her joint and decided to give Nicole something. “Doukas is involved in pretty much anything going. Women, drugs, gambling, guns, stolen artifacts….”

“Artifacts? What, like paintings and stuff?”

“Yeah; paintings, sculpture, prints, coins, you name it.”

“But I thought you said Doukas has lots of dough?” Nicole added.

“He does, trust me. He doesn’t need this. It’s crazy really. I think it’s the thrill or something. I think he likes meeting in dark bars with shady people. I think he does like it. We’re meeting some guy today.”

“Where are you again?”

“Romania. Craiova.”

“Hmmmmmm,” Nicole sighed as her finger found a sweet spot.


As Hailey carefully shaved the small hairs on the inside of her upper thighs, Alexis moved her phone in for a close-up. “You promised, you will not show my face.” Hailey reminded her.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ve been over that. No face. Lift your leg higher, that’s it. Ok, that’s how I want it; I want you totally shaved, like a little girl, right?”

“Yes, Mistress Alix,” Hailey responded dutifully.

As the days passed, it seemed Alexis was becoming more demanding of her slave. She was talking of renting her out, which Hailey thought was just something to turn them both on, but it sounded more like she was really looking into it, and that scared her. Alexis had also talked about wanting more than one slave. Hailey wasn’t sure how that would work.

“Okay”, Alexis interrupted Hailey’s thoughts. “Lie on the bed and use the electric toothbrush on your pussy. Oh, yeah, like that….” She murmured as Hailey lightly moved the vibrating bristles along her outer pussy lips. Hailey noticed Alexis’s phone camera recording higher up her body. As if guessing what she was thinking, Alexis added, “I’m just recording your great tits. They are too good to keep hidden, Hailey-bitch.”

Alexis then opened her little bag, “Keep that brush going, Slave, pull your lip back so we can see some pink, and run the head along the edge of your fat lip. There, yes, just like that. Oh, fuck that is good.” Alexis put the phone down for a moment and attached her new thing; nipple clips, to Hailey’s stubby pink nipples. “Ok, ok, keep moving that thing along, now tug on your clips, pull your nipples out. Yeah, yeah.”

Hailey was becoming aroused, but somewhere in the back of her mind a little nugget of concern was growing. Hailey pushed it down, for now.


Doukas was sitting on a metal chair in the back room of a bar and restaurant, in central Craiova. The room was dimly lit and appeared to be used for card games and such. A door on one side led to a smaller room that held three metal cots. The door on the other side led out. That door opened now and four girls trooped in one after the other, followed by Amara.

Like Doukas, Amara had an ear for languages and spoke something in Serbian to the girls (all four were Serbs) who while hesitating briefly and with fear in their eyes, began to undress. When the girls, all olive skinned with dark hair, were naked, Amara had them kneel with their hands behind their backs.

Amara looked at Doukas, “eighteen, nineteen, nineteen and twenty,” she said, going down the line.

Good thing she knows, Doukas thought, they all look the same to me; young.

Doukas observed the girls like a cattle buyer at an auction. One nineteen-year-old had heavier breasts, likely thirty-eight C; the others had small, perky breasts on slim frames. There was not an ounce of fat on any of these girls; Amara had her own ideas on why that was.

Doukas pointed to the girl with the larger breasts and said to Amara; “Have this one dress and take her out the side, give her to Tony. The others, keep them here, naked. Um, and see how they make out with each other. I’ll just be in the bar and back in a few minutes.”

Amara watched the back of the departing Doukas,

thinking how easily it would be to put a bullet or a knife in it; but then she’d be done too, so that wasn’t really worth it.

She turned to the girls and told the designated one to dress; she didn’t have much in the way of clothes so in a moment Amara was taking her as directed. When she returned the remaining three were kneeling exactly as she left them. She had them then kiss each other, demanding “more tongue”, then had them suck each other’s breasts. No one seemed bothered and they were all cooperative.

They all had apparently learned how to survive.


In the restroom of a stylish restaurant in Paris, a distinguished looking man, mid-fifties, was standing at a urinal, focused on the…job at hand. When a second man, also distinguished, slightly younger came in and occupied the adjacent urinal; the first man stared straight ahead.

The second man spoke, “Is Carstairs in?”

After a moment, the man began. “Damn, that was tough to finally speak with her. Of course she is scared spit-less, but she is in agreement. We need Doukas out.”

“Good. I am having a chat with Gryba tomorrow; same thing, damn awkward connecting.”

“We’re dead if he finds out, you know.” The second man just grunted as the first flushed, washed his hands and left. No one needed to tell them what happened to people who crossed Louis Doukas.


The bar was rustic and, in an odd way, cozy. The building itself had been built in the nineteenth century and although updated at various times over the decades, the place had a distinct old-world feel (and smell, Amara thought) and the uneven floor meant your table wobbled. For tonight, there was a fire in the ancient stone fireplace.

Doukas walked to one of those wobbly tables, this one in one corner where an elderly man sat nursing a beer. The man looked up at Doukas with bushy eyebrows and a bald head fringed with pure white hair. “Anton”, Doukas said to the man.

Anton Sabău smiled a crooked smile, showing most of the nine teeth he still possessed, and spoke in Greek, “Louis Doukas, you old son of a bitch.”

The remainder of the conversation was in Greek, Sabău knowing it and his native Romanian, but Greek was what worked best for these two. Sabău had spent many years in Greece, which was how he had met Doukas, although Sabău had been a teen and Doukas a toddler.

“Thank you for what you did for Fabio.” The older man said gruffly, referring to Doukas finding a way to get Sabău’s grandson out of a Syrian refugee camp and home.

“Friends help friends,” Doukas said smoothly as his vodka arrived. The two men toasted and then Doukas began. “I am hearing stories, my old friend. Very interesting stories.” Doukas downed one shot glass and looked across the table; the old man raised his massive eyebrows, which looked like it would take an effort, and then Doukas continued. “Stories about my long time interest, lost art, courtesy of our friends, the Nazis.”

Sabău now looked a little uncomfortable, but he was aware that Doukas was one of a handful of people who knew of his…special interests.

“You need to be more specific, old friend. There are many stories told of my endeavours, and many stories of our old…friends (here he spat on the ancient floor). But I am listening, as I owe you a debt.”

Doukas poured himself another shot and went on to talk about Jakub Hildermann, a Jew living in Poland before the outbreak of the Great War. He was a sculptor of stone, and had, according to Doukas and legend, produced three images of Christ; a trilogy as it was called, which had disappeared.

Had Anton heard of such a thing?

Anton sat for a long while, before pulling an ancient bag of tobacco out of a pocket and placing a paper on the table; he slowly and carefully rolled a cigarette (in this place smoking was still allowed, no matter the century). When he placed the thin cigarette between his reedy, pale lips, Doukas held the candle from their table to it, watching the end catch fire, inhaling in the fragrance and the smoke.

“I may have heard such a story.” Anton finally allowed.

“I think more than that, my friend.” Doukas smiled, watching the man. “And, as well as your debt, I also have a gift, as a thank you for your, information. And of course, there will be your fee.

Anton smiled. “A gift?”

“Oh yes.” Doukas knew very well Sabău’s infatuation with girls, the younger the better; even at seventy-four, the old man desired them; and they were getting harder to come by.

“You have, such a gift here?”

“Oh, yes, in the back room. She is yours to take home tonight. She is Serbian; there is no paper or record. It is perfect. But first, I need what you know; all you know.”

So in his turn, Sabău recounted working several years, many years ago, for a wealthy man in Rome; a man with splendid gardens that hardly anyone saw. But Sabău had spent many hours in those gardens, working for the man, and being fascinated by three works of stone that were compelling; he would not have considered them religious, but it appeared they were.

Years later, when Sabău was reading an article, he read a description of three Images of Christ by a sculptor named Hildermann, and Sabău knew they were the same. In investigating, he had found where the works had gone following the death of the Italian.

And those works had been in a barn in the south of

Poland for all these years.

“And they are still there? You know this?”

“Oh, yes, my friend. I know this.”

Doukas finished his second glass. “And how can you still be certain, my old friend, after all these years?”

Anton Sabău smiled that crooked smile. “I know, because it was I who put them there. It is my farm; or at least it is now. It wasn’t always, but that is a different story.”

“But you must know what they would fetch in a bid?” Doukas asked.

“Fifteen million American dollars for the three; less if divided.” Sabău said without emotion.

“And yet you let them sit, in a barn, unknown. Why?”

Sabău finished his beer, and Doukas signaled the host. “I have never needed the money. And I liked having them; there, to myself.”

“But you would rather have a sweet, young girl for your pleasure, and a nice commission now.” Doukas murmured.

The old man looked with his droopy eyes at Doukas, for a long moment. “I don’t imagine you will give me much choice, my old…friend.”

Doukas smiled, pouring himself a little more vodka; it wasn’t as good as his stock, but it was decent.


(End of Chapter 10)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 9 Being Your Slave, What Shall I Do But Tend

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 09 Being Your Slave, What Shall I Do But Tend 

Sheffield placed the coffee to Doukas’s right, on the stylish end table. Their hotel rooms were top quality; Doukas insisted, nothing less than five star. And the coffee needed to be excellent.

Sheffield did not care about the coffee but she did care about what Doukas thought. She watched as Doukas sipped the dark, aromatic liquid and smiled. Good, she thought. “Kane is set, sir,” she began, “the two paintings are ready: I will be taking them to her today. You, um, you are sure you don’t want to handle this yourself?”

Doukas looked up at his always efficient assistant, how long had she been with him, it had to be at least twenty years, and marveled once again at the dedication. Sheffield did not have her own life; his life was her life. Amazing. “No, my dear Sheffield, you will deal with the helpful Ms. Kane, I am still involved with a deal or two.”

Doukas’s involvement was with a man who was being particularly difficult; Doukas believed the two had a deal on a certain piece of art, but now there were questions. Well, Doukas would handle this, in his way. “Who’s looking after things in Philly?” he asked.

Sheffield paused in the straining of her tea leaves, “Thomas. Everything is good. Martin has given us another name just yesterday….”

“She has been…helpful.” Doukas murmured. “And it seems she is getting her, issue, under control.”

“Yes, that is true sir. Will we still have leverage on her?”

“She has helped us, hasn’t she, Ms. Sheffield? But how, exactly? There are a couple of laws she has broken right there. No, let her clear up her debt; that is not a problem. I still own her ass.”

Sheffield smiled. “As you say, sir.”


Amara moved her ‘note cards’ around, putting them in an order. She had spent several hours gathering info and now had twelve cards that she needed to make sense of.

As she had related to Nicole, she had played her part with Doukas perfectly over the years but had never forgiven him. Quite simply, she wanted him dead, one way or another and it didn’t need to be by her hand; but that was far easier said than done.

Because Doukas had made it his practice, after the first couple of years when he had to take chances, to remain in the shadows, generally having others commit the deeds or be on ‘the front line’; many people were not even aware that it was he who was responsible for their suffering. Yes, he had killed people, nine that Amara knew of, but it was always secretly and with no witnesses and no mess.

Although Dionysus had rivals and competitors, some harsh, Doukas incredibly had few real enemies personally. There were countless people who he had manipulated, controlled, used, abused and destroyed over the years, but the victims were either too weak to hurt him or unaware of who he was. Doukas always planned and picked his spots perfectly.

Amara had waited, patiently; very, very patiently, as the years went by, maintaining files of allies and enemies; allies that she could trust (her list numbered four) and enemies of Doukas, who could actually do something (and that list was three). Today she felt sure she could add one more name to the enemy list.

It could potentially be the most deadly so far.


The taxi pulled up to the corner in a seedier part of London, the driver looking back and asking, “you shure, guv’na?”

“Fine, my good fellow. I won’t be getting out here.”

Doukas opened the door and a man stepped out from the shadow of a wall and came to the taxi; handed Doukas a large envelope, received a smaller envelope in return; touched the brim of his hat; said “G’day, sir,” and left.

Doukas then gave the driver another address and took out the photos from the large envelope. They showed an attractive woman in her early forties in various sexual poses with a much younger man. This was the wife of the man who was proving difficult. Doukas put the photos back and sat back against the seat, a thin smile on his face.


“So, your date was…good?” Nicole asked, a smirk on her pretty face.

Susan smiled too. They were sitting in a booth in another cozy bar, the kind they both preferred. Not too raucous or filled with noisy drunks. “It was very good, my mistress.”

Ten minutes later, Nicole put down her empty wine glass and murmured, “That is a good story, Sweet Sue; very good. I am a little jealous, actually, but it is my own fault. If you ‘can’t get it up’ you can’t complain, right?” She smiled across the table at Susan, who sat, a little flushed and definitely aroused by her (very detailed, Nicole demanded it) narration of the previous night’s encounter with Beth.

“And this ‘Beth’ definitely wants to see you again.”

Susan paused. What was in Nicole’s mind? “Yes, definitely. She um, well, she wants me as…a slave.”

Nicole looked across the table into the eyes of her submissive. “And what do you want, sweet Suse?”

“I, um, I want to serve you, Miss N. That’s what I want; but if not that, then I want to be with someone. You’ve, um…my mistress, has unlocked a door for me and shown me, myself. I have been in denial and unhappy for, well, years I guess. But I know now what makes me tick. So, yes, I want this, if I can’t be with you.”

Nicole paused, pondering, Amara drifting though her mind. She could work with this; she had options. Without wishing it, Doukas next came to mind. He might be a snake, Nicole thought, but he was right about the need to have options. Nicole smiled across at Susan. “Well, my sweet pussy slave, I think we can work out a suitable arrangement.” She signalled the server; she wanted more wine.


Hailey and Alexis were walking along the edge of a park. Chestnut Hill had a lot of areas like this, some with fairly heavy tree growth, like a little forest. Hailey had been dressed by Mistress Alix; she wore a thin T-shirt and shorts with no underwear at all. She did have socks and sneakers on. As they walked, Alexis slid her hand down inside the back of Hailey’s shorts, Hailey finding it hard to walk with this…activity happening.

“My slave likes this, does she?” Alexis whispered up into Hailey’s ear.

Hailey laughed; she did like it. She had been imagining all day what Alexis would do with her after she got off work; she had just the four-hour shift today.

They stopped. They had reached a junction of two trails; here they were in a less-travelled part of the park, near the edge, but there was still foot traffic, although they had not seen anyone on this path so far.

“Lift up your shirt and stand like that,” Alexis directed, and Hailey lifted her shirt and let her lovely, heavy breasts emerge. Alexis tweaked the small, pink nipples, sucking on one and producing a mark. “That shows you are mine,” she added, before sucking the other breast.

“Look,” Hailey announced and Alexis stood to see two girls coming along, still far enough away that they hadn’t noticed anything.

“Put your shirt down, for now, but just stand there.”

The two girls continued on and were now approaching

them. Both girls were black, around the same age as Hailey and Alexis, maybe a little younger; both were taller than Alexis but shorter than Hailey.

“Yo there, Bitches.” Alexis called out.

“Who you callin’, bitch, Bitch?” The first girl asked, and Alexis laughed to break the tension. She was here for lovin’, not fightin’.

“Easy ladies. Chill. It’s just that I have a bitch-ho here that I need some help with.”

The two girls stopped and looked Hailey up and down and then looked at Alexis, who continued. “She lost a bet and has to do what I say this afternoon and I think she should do some nasty shit, don’t you think?”

“Damn girl, we look like a coupla’ Judy Garland’s to yo’ white mutha’s face?”

“True dat,” the second girl added, folding her arms.

“No, not at all. This is just fun and games, doin’ some nasty to my ho’.”

The black girls exchanged a glance and smiles broke out across their faces. “Hmmm, I like nasty; whatcha thinkin’?” One girl asked; the other stood and watched.

“Well, I’d like to see my bitch here eat some black pussy; does that sound cool. A white bitch on her knees for you.”

The two black girls guffawed out loud and shoved each other, the first girl saying. “No shit?”

Alexis smiled, “No shit. There’s a little quiet spot over there.” She started toward the spot, a little clearing with a small metal bench and good tree coverage; Hailey followed along, her mind going a thousand miles an hour.

“Strip, Slut.” Alexis commanded when they halted, and Hailey removed her shirt and shorts and stood, self-conscious and naked save for her socks and shoes; and also tremendously aroused. “Ok, who wants to use the slave first?” Alexis asked.

There was a pause, as both black girls looked at each other and guffawed some more, before the first girl said, “Shit, I want sum o’ ‘dat white-bitch mouth on my black ass. C’mere Ho.”

The girl hauled Hailey over to the bench before pulling down her jogging pants and thong, revealing a round, brown ass. She knelt down in front of the bench with her ass facing Hailey. “Ok, Bitch, get your white face down there,” she said, sporting a huge grin.

Hailey hesitated for a moment, before leaning forward.


Sheffield was waiting in the area Rosalind Kane used for her business; Kane expressing surprise (and some relief) to see it wasn’t Doukas this time. Sheffield had the two paintings with her; neither was overly large and she placed them on the floor against her legs. In a moment, Kane came bustling in and held out her hand, “Rosalind Kane”, she stated with a flourish.

Sheffield regarded the hand without expression and then looked into the brown face. “I know who you are, Ms. Kane”, she said, and Kane slowly lowered her arm.

“Righty then, I see you have the…objects.” Kane remarked and moved to stand in front of her large and cluttered desk. “May I see them, please.” She smiled a strained smile; this woman was making her uncomfortable.

Sheffield held her gaze before reaching down and lifting up both paintings to her lap. “Of course, Ms. Kane, but first things first.” Kane stared at her, unsure of what she meant. “I think you have forgotten to remove your clothes.”

Kane opened her mouth, then closed it, looking a little like a fish. Sheffield allowed a small smile to crease her stern features. “It’s not really all that complicated Ms. Kane. You begin by unbuttoning your blouse, then move on to your slacks. The thing follows nicely in order, but first you must begin. Start with the blouse.”

“But I thought….” Kane began.

“That because Mr. Doukas wasn’t here the rules changed? No, Ms. Kane, although you won’t have to suck my cock, since I do not possess one. But you will get naked, or I will leave and your large commission will leave with me. How’s that?”

Kane stood for a moment longer and then, sort of in a daze, began to undress, still uncomfortable under Sheffield’s scrutiny.


Doukas had the taxi stop before a row of fashionable three-story houses in one of the trendier districts of London. “Kindly return in one hour,” Doukas murmured, handing the cabbie some bills. As the taxi drove off, Doukas looked up at the house. If his sources were accurate, and they usually were, Mr. Powell was at his club and Mrs. Powell, the lady in the photographs, should be home.

After ringing the bell and waiting, Doukas was greeted by a middle-aged woman in a uniform of some sort. The woman was not inclined to let this ‘foreign-looking’ gent in, but Doukas pressed her to tell her madam that it concerned Nigel. In a moment the woman returned and let Doukas in, but clearly grudgingly.

Ushered into a parlor room furnished in expensive leather couches, Mrs. Powell stood regarding Doukas with suspicion and distaste. “This regards, Nigel? In what way? And who are you?” She asked in quick succession.

Doukas smiled and moved over, settling onto one of the white couches. “Please sit, Madam. You wouldn’t happen to have any vodka?”

Powell was clearly unnerved by the behavior she faced and became flustered. “I don’t see, um. Mr., eh….”

Doukas then removed the photos and held up one that showed Mrs. Powell, breasts with erect nipples prominent, as she sucked on a man’s cock. The man’s face could not be seen, but no doubt Mr. Powell would know the cock wasn’t his, even if he didn’t know who Nigel was.

Mrs. Powell (Daphne) stood open-mouthed. Doukas smiled. “There, that is how it concerns Nigel. It of course concerns you as well. Now, I believe you were going to offer me a drink.” Daphne Powell stood blinking like an owl at a flashlight, almost like her brain was refusing to accept what her eyes had revealed. “Mrs. Powell. Hello.” Doukas spoke a little louder and Powell shook her head and seemed to clear the fog.

“But, what is it you want?”

“Where are your manners, Daphne?” That seemed to get through, as Daphne buzzed for her maid, who arrived promptly, looking hopefully to usher out the intruder.

“Please bring us two vodkas, Margaret. Neat. Thank you.”

Margaret cast a dark look at Doukas but headed off; Powell standing and twisting her fingers together for the few moments it took. Margaret returned and placed the two glasses near Doukas and Powell, who at that moment were not even looking at one another. She left the bottle; perhaps she knew something.

After she bustled out, Doukas rose and closed the door, then stood beside Daphne Powell and handed her the glass. “Bottoms up, my girl.” Doukas downed his drink and Powell did the same, choking slightly and then straightening up. Doukas returned to the sofa and sat. Powell came and stood in front of him. “What do you want Mr….”

“Please call me Mr. Smith. That will work.” Doukas smiled and Powell snorted. “What I want is your cooperation.”

“You’re not here for money…” She stared at him.

Anthony Powell was a wealthy man, but Doukas was worth far more with all his holdings. “Your husband is wealthy, Mrs. Powell, which by the way is why he had you sign that pre-nuptial four years ago; but I do not need his money, at least not for blackmail. That is what you are thinking, yes?”

Powell looked away. Doukas could take her in now; a handsome woman, undoubtedly a stunner in her twenties but now beginning to fight age. Likely worked out though, to keep her fine shape; nice breasts, waist under control; nice ass. Doukas liked what he saw.

“Yes, Mr. um, Smith, that is what I thought when you flashed that photo. I take it you have, more?”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Powell. That was one of the quieter ones. The shots of Nigel fucking that lovely arse of yours are stunning and extremely clear. I think you, uh, came at one point. It was spectacular.”

Powell looked like she might throw up; or cry. She poured another drink and then looked at the unwelcome visitor, who nodded and she came and poured Doukas another shot.

“So if not blackmail, then what?” She looked him in the eyes, fear showing clearly in hers.

“Your husband has a painting by one Liebermann, a Jew, taken from a family around 1942 in Berlin. He was to sell it to me. Apparently, he promised it to you; but it seems you don’t really want it, do you?”

Powell laughed at the comment. “Actually, I don’t like it, how’s that? Anthony thinks certain things, impress me. They don’t. He brought that painting out all secretive and everything. I think he actually regretted promising it to me.” She gazed at Doukas; her attitude had softened slightly. “What do you want me to do?”

“Accept it from him and sell it to me.”

Powell snorted again. “I know it has, um, value. What are we talking?”

“I will give you four million pounds.”

She stared at him. “Four. Million? You are serious?”

“Oh, I am very serious.” Doukas of course had a buyer who would pay him nine million, but in money matters he

was always fair.

“That is, unbelievable.”

“I suppose. But it is true.”

Powell stood in thought. “I can get it and just bring it to you. But…”

“But how can you trust me?”

She nodded her head.

“I’m staying at the Stafford. Nothing will happen to you there. Get one of those artist’s canvas bags; that will conceal it.”

“And when Anthony finds out?”

“I have a perfect forgery that only an expert could disclose. Your husband will never know. Set up an account at this Swiss bank (he handed her a card); you can do it all by phone. I would transfer the funds into your account; the bank would verify; you would take the duplicate and return home. Done. And these (he held up the envelope) would stay our little secret.”

He stood and looked at her; she was trembling but certainly convinced. Doukas was not sure if she was more excited about the money or relieved at not being exposed as a whore. He reached forward and undid four buttons of Powell’s expensive white blouse without resistance; he then reached in, under the custom bra and squeezed one full breast, Powell standing with her eyes closed.

He withdrew his hand and she opened her eyes. “Let’s say tomorrow at three?”

She nodded her head. Doukas left.


After ringing the bell, Susan stood in anxious anticipation. What if she were just imagining things? What if this was a dead end too?

Then the door opened and Beth stood smiling at her, “This is a pleasant surprise. Come in. Come in. Here, let’s hang up your jacket.” That job completed, Susan followed Beth down the hall to her little entertaining- guests room. Beth sat on a chair and Susan on the adjacent couch. “So what do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Is this Susan Koning or…Sweet Sue?” Beth’s eyes held a decided twinkle.

Susan slipped off the couch and knelt before the woman, her heart racing and her thoughts swirling, “It, um, it is definitely, Sweet Sue, Mistress Beth, if you would have me.” Susan looked up with a face full of need and submission. Beth reached out and touched the woman’s face.

“That is very good, Sweet Sue. I was hoping you would return to me.” They both smiled, then Beth waggled an index finger. “Well, what are you doing with all those clothes still on, come on.”

Both women smiled more broadly as Susan began discarding her garments.


Daphne Powell, the duplicate painting on its way to Margaret with instructions on its storage, now entered the last numbers of the code Doukas (she now knew his name) had given her and opened her new account. There was an amount limit in place, but she could see that one million pounds had been deposited and three more deposits of one million each were pending.

“There’s no way you can stop this happening?” Powell looked over at Doukas, who smiled; the smile was a little less thin than usual.

“No, I can’t; and I wouldn’t. I am not a liar and I am not a cheat, whatever else I may be.” Powell nodded; she believed him. She was sitting naked on a chair in Doukas’s hotel room.

Before transferring the money, Doukas had expected his usual female compliance. Powell was a little stubborn, in the end saying that if Doukas wanted her naked he would have to undress her; which he did. It was not an unfamiliar task to him.

When he had Powell naked he posed her so he could admire this forty-two-year-old woman, who clearly looked after herself. She had a wonderful, ‘womanly’ body and Doukas appreciated it.

Daphne also showed herself to be very skilled at oral sex; so much so, that Doukas was convinced she had likely been a ‘pro’ at some point in her life. She worked him perfectly and took his spunk without hesitation, looking up at him with a small smile (a grimace perhaps?) on her attractive face.

They had then completed the business part of things with the transfer of millions, and now were just sitting. Daphne then did an odd thing, at least as far as Doukas was concerned; she slid down to the floor and leaned against his legs, resting her head on his knee. Almost involuntarily, Doukas stroked the thick, brown/blonde hair. Daphne looked up at him, and Doukas, not sure why, asked her, “So, what will you do now?”

She smiled. “I’ve chatted with my counsel and will fly to Switzerland tomorrow; once I have all the banking looked after, my solicitor will serve Anthony with divorce papers. I’m not grinding him, I think he will agree. I’ll get the apartment in Notting Hill, but I plan on buying something else, some place warmer.”

They sat quietly for a moment before Daphne asked, in a voice Doukas found alluring, “Where do you live, Louis. May I call you Louis?”

A strange feeling now flooded through the man; it was so odd, hearing someone say his given name; how many years had it been? Thirty? Maybe more. He was lost in thought for a moment before he replied, surprisingly to himself, astoundingly to Sheffield, were she present.

“You may call me Louis; no one has for a long, long time.” He sat silently for another moment. “As for where I live, I own, mmmm, eleven houses.”

Daphne looked up at him, neither of them wondering why she was still naked. “You own eleven bloody houses? Where? Why? Who looks after them?”

Doukas laughed, “I may have to limit you to one question at a time, my lovely Ms. Powell….”

“Daphne, please. I’ve never referred to myself as Ms. Powell.”

Doukas looked down at her, thinking again what a handsome woman she was, he then listed off the countries and the properties. “And, of course, I have eleven housekeepers to look after my eleven houses.” He laughed and reached for the vodka; Daphne moved over and retrieved her glass.

“Yes please, this is good vodka.”

Doukas poured and murmured, “I have it sent from Shatska, in Russia. I like quality.”

Daphne looked at him as she sipped her vodka.

“You should drink, not sip.”

“Hush…Louis, I’ll sip if I want to.” She smiled at him and he laughed, she continued. “My flight leaves tomorrow at one, so I would need a room.” She paused and looked more pointedly at him; he raised his eyebrows. “Could I just stay…here?”

Doukas looked at the woman for a moment, before smiling and murmuring, “We will need to find you a toothbrush.”


(End of Chapter 9)

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A Field of Candles by LongDarkRoad Chapter 8 Our Greatest Deceit: To Believe We Have Time

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 08 Our Greatest Deceit: To Believe We Have Time 

Doukas and Sheffield were sitting in the back of the taxi as it made its way from Northolt. The plan was to drop Sheffield off at the Stafford Hotel and then Doukas would carry on to Glenfaulds Gallery.

As Sheffield climbed out, Doukas called, “Order room service if you wish for yourself; I’m not sure when I will be back.”

“Thank you, sir,” Sheffield called back into the taxi and closed the door; then watched it drive off. Sheffield was not a sentimental person, but today did bring back memories. It was this day, August sixth, exactly twenty years ago, that she met Louis Doukas. Twenty years.

A young accountant, she had been tasked with reviewing the books of a European transport company that was spreading its reach into the British Isles and ultimately the United States. The firm, at that time known as Dionysus Transport and Hauling, had done well. Sheffield’s review had been thorough and revealed some issues, minor though they were, that weakened Dionysus’s position slightly.

In the end the deals went through, and Sheffield was surprised to find, as she left the firm that night, the intimidating and at the time dark-haired Dionysus representative waiting for her. Strangely, she did not feel threatened; there seemed to be a connection between her and Mr. Doukas. He offered her a job right then; she accepted, and within three months had become his main assistant.

He had tested her quickly, having her witness him breaking down a young woman that he had compromised, then allowing Sheffield to whip her as she was hanging from a beam. Sheffield, as would be her trademark, got into her work and dealt with it efficiently. She had not been bothered by this; the woman was of use to

Doukas and he was making a point.

There had also been little in the way of sexual desire for Sheffield; she had punished the woman effectively for her boss, who approved of her efforts.

Afterwards, as Doukas celebrated with a vodka, she politely refusing, they agreed that their ‘partnership’ would work.

Over the years she had witnessed him kill (she stopped to count) seven people, without flinching or asking out of their agreement; it had not bothered her. And there was no way she could recall all the women he had abused; that had bothered her even less, if possible.

Olivia Sheffield really had no use for people in general. An only child raised by a mother drowning in self-pity, she had always been a loner. And she certainly felt no sympathy for anyone who, by their own stupidity or weakness, allowed another person to control them; they got what they deserved.

Simply, Sheffield supported Doukas with whatever he did and to whomever; she never doubted him or questioned him. Simmons had once asked if she loved Doukas; she had considered that in the practical way she had and declared, no, she didn’t love him.

She didn’t actually even like him. But she respected him, she respected the way he went about things, with a clarity and a purpose. She respected, admired really, the way he got what he wanted. And he had always shown gratitude; Doukas would grind an opponent down, but with money, he had always been fair to those he worked with.

Sheffield was actually quite well off now, and could ‘retire’ if she chose. But what would she do? She would rather travel the globe with him, doing whatever it took to assist him. Whatever; she never flinched.

Shaking off her reverie, Sheffield tugged her suitcase into the hotel and marched up to the front desk; a picture of decisive intent.


Susan sat in the chair across from Nicole and waited until Tatjana had finished pouring the coffee. When everything was ready, the beautiful girl smiled, no, beamed at them. “Thank you, Tat; you can go play with the computer.”

“Thank…you,” the girl replied, her limited English improving but not conversational yet. She kissed Nicole on the cheek and left the two women alone.

Susan was aware of Tatjana’s place in Nicole’s narrative so asked, “What’s happening with the girl. She is amazingly beautiful, isn’t she?”

Nicole nodded her head. “I wish I knew; it’s something that bothers me. Me, who never really worried about anyone. Fuck. I can’t believe it, but that whole experience, seeing those women and then meeting Tat, it’s got to me, Susan. But I don’t know that I can do anything for her.” Tatjana had explained, as well as she could, that her fellow traveler, Sofjia, had already been sent somewhere. Nicole was certain it wasn’t somewhere pleasant.

Susan sipped her coffee and let her thoughts roam, and as if she were reading them, Nicole murmured. “I do not have, um, intimacy with Tatjana, you know. I feel like she is in my care. She is, as you noted, beautiful. No, fucking beautiful, and I would usually like to cover her in cream and eat her up. But it’s not like that. I can’t explain. Even when she showers with me, and washes me, everywhere, that’s all it is. Just business, pleasant but no sex. It’s crazy.”

Susan took that in and nodded. “So, how are you holding up then, Miss N. I would love to look after any… tension, you might have.” Susan smiled; she wasn’t going to beg, but as for intimacy, she was really missing it; all of it. The submission, the love-making; the orgasms; the clandestine meetings in her office. It had all just ended, and she was missing it. Badly.

Nicole put down her cup and looked…sad? “I feel torn about this, Sue, for us. It just isn’t there for me; I just don’t have the desire. I need to get out from under this situation and get my life back, and then I think I will be, well, me, again. It’s not fair to you, and I can’t ask you to just put things on hold.

You know, I value our friendship now; your support, more than anything. But the sex, if it happens then great, but it ain’t happenin’ right now, I’m afraid. Does that at least make some sense to you?”

Despite feeling a large knot of discontent in her guts, Susan nodded. At least Nicole was being honest, what more could someone expect? As she sat, Susan thought of Hailey. “I told Hailey about you and me, a little anyway.”

Nicole smiled, “Why is that?”, and Susan explained the discussion.

“Ha”, Nicole said, “That’s cool. Hailey is gorgeous; you know that, Susan. Gorgeous. And she might like to get it on girl-on-girl? Well good. I just wish she were already eighteen.” She winked at Susan, then added. “Just kidding.”

But she wasn’t.


Hailey and Alexis were lying cross-ways on Hailey’s bed, side by side so they could talk face to face. It was odd in a way that they were friends. Although Alexis had recently turned eighteen, she had already completed grade twelve and was heading off to a job and then college. Although Hailey would be eighteen very soon, she was just now heading into her senior year.

They had, however, been in several clubs together the previous year and both were runners; there had been a connection.

The girls were similar and different; both had long hair; Hailey blonde and Alexis dark; both were in track, but Hailey with her long legs was in distance events, while the shorter Alexis favored the one hundred and the two hundred. Both liked dramatics and plays, but Hailey liked to work with the crew and Alexis liked the stage front, especially if singing was called for.

They had spent some time together even though neither was in the other’s ‘squad’. Then one night after school they had bumped into each other in the mall, and had just started wandering together, ending up at Alexis’s, where they kissed each other and laughed and kissed some more.

In the month they had become ‘friends’, the last month of the term, they had tried to meet in secret whenever they could; their kissing becoming more passionate with fondling added. And now for the first time, they were on a bed together. Hailey leaned forward and covered Alexis’s plump red lips with her mouth, but that wasn’t really her style. After that advance, she lay back on the bed and looked at Alexis, waiting.

Alexis sat with a little smile on her face, then said. “Lie on your tummy, Hailey.” When Hailey assumed that position, Alexis kissed the back of her neck, then lifted up her shirt and kissed Hailey’s back, making Hailey moan quietly. Next, she pulled Hailey’s sweats down, revealing the black thong nestled between two lovely, round ass cheeks. Alexis slapped one side, with Hailey grunting in response. “Say thank you, miss.”

Heart pounding and visions of her mother and Nicole running in her head, Hailey stuttered, “Th-thank you, um,” as Alexis slapped her again. Alexis next unclipped Hailey’s bra and started kissing from the middle of the girl’s back right down to the buttocks. She pulled the sweats completely off and slapped the naked ass several times, then asked, “Do you like that?”

“Umm, oh, um, yea-yes, ummmm. I like that, Alexis.”

“Call me…Mistress Alex.” Alexis murmured into Hailey’s ear.

“Ohhhhh, fuck. Um. Mistress Alex.”

Alexis chuckled softly into the side of Hailey’s face. “When is your mom coming home?”

“Not ‘til at least after three.” Hailey said, moving

her hips as Alexis ran her hand up the sides of her thighs.

“Mmmmmmm,” Alexis murmured, “that’s good.”


Susan and Nicole stood, holding each other. “I will do whatever I can.” Susan whispered into Nicole’s hair.

“I know, and I really, really appreciate your support, Suse. I, um, I really don’t know what I would do, if you weren’t around. I think I would be just…lost. I’m sorry about the sex….” Nicole stood back a little to look into Susan’s face, deciding something. “Okay, my little Sweet Sue. I am giving you an order. I am commanding you to go to a bar and get picked up, taken home and fucked like the slut you are. Am I being clear?”

Susan giggled slightly, as Nicole carried on. “I’m being serious, my slave. I want this to happen. Maybe it will get my, um, juices flowing. You are going to get used and report back to me; in detail. Do not disappoint me.”

Susan smiled; she had already thought a little about…cruising, she thought it was called that. Hooking up, whatever. She had considered, just for her own needs, to maybe try and find someone. It was daunting however; she was such a reserved person. But now, her mistress had given her permission, a command, actually, and she was excited.

“I will obey, my mistress.” Susan said, quietly, kissing the side of Nicole’s face.


“Ohhhhh-ohhh-oh,ummmmm. Fuuuuuck! Uh.” Alexis slumped forward, enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm. “Oh, fuck, Hailey-bitch; that was great. Oh, jeez. You are one sweet mutha.” She lifted her hips and swivelled around to look at the girl, tied to the bed, a smile plastered on her face.

“Miss Alex is happy with, her, um…slave?” Hailey

asked in a little voice.

Alexis leaned forward and gently pulled Hailey’s lips with her teeth. “Oh, yes, my little pussy-girl. Miss Alex is very happy with her…slave. Now for your reward.” And with that, Alexis slid down the lanky frame, kissing as she went. Hailey lay with a smile on her face, one arm over her closed eyes.


Rosalind braced herself. Although this was her third time with Doukas, it wasn’t getting any easier; but at least she knew what to expect. And the blowjob never took long.

After swallowing the disgusting ejaculate, Rosalind sat back on her heels and waited. In a few moments, Doukas grunted and stood up; his ‘package’ already tucked back in place and zipped up, thanks to Ms. Kane.

Doukas moved over to his sports jacket and put it on. He took an envelope out of the inside pocket and handed it to the naked woman. “Okay, this is for the Metzinger. My associate will be bringing in another painting tomorrow and I will be returning with two more in a couple of days. You will see that this is profitable for us all, including you.”

With no formal farewell, Doukas turned and left, and Kane opened the envelope. She stared at the check for a moment, wrapping her head around the amount. She knew it was going to be significant; the Metzinger had sold for twelve million British pounds after all, but her commission was three hundred sixty thousand pounds; basically four years wages in one shot.

Well, three shots, if one measured the deal in blowjobs.


“God, it’s nice to hear your voice,” Nicole was lying on her couch, talking with Amara. Tatjana was lying on the floor, doing some kind of puzzle (just like a kid, Nicole had thought). Every now and then Tatjana would

look up and give Nicole a wide smile.

“It is good to hear you too, my little love.” Amara said in her husky voice. “Are all your slaves busy at your…calling,” she laughed.

Nicole chuckled too. “Nope, my queen. I’ve sent them all away. Well, Tatjana is here, but she does not, um, service my needs, as you call it.”

After some small talk, Nicole opened up on her concerns. “I’m trapped, Amara. It is driving me insane. Is there any way to deal with Doukas? You know him as well as anyone?”

Amara sighed. She knew exactly how Nicole felt. “We are all trapped, my Nicole. By people. By time.” She murmured.

“Oh, don’t get all philosophical on me, honey bunch; I need practical. Doukas is wealthy and connected, but everyone has a weak spot.”

“Well, for you, probably your first step is to clear your debt….”

“I know. I know, and I’ve been really good about that. All the extra cash I get is going right against my cards. I’m making progress, I am. I haven’t bought a new pair of shoes in over a month.” Nicole exclaimed.

“Oh, poor baby. I feel your pain…” Amara then got the giggles, which was infectious, Nicole laughing along.

“But seriously Amara, I can’t get Tatjana’s situation out of my head. What can be done about her?”

Amara thought. Her first response was, ‘likely nothing,’ but she didn’t want to go with that; then a thought came to her. “Let me think on that a little. Maybe, but I’m not promising anything, right?”

“Right.” Nicole agreed, but she felt a little better.


Susan was more nervous than she would have believed. All day Monday she had been a little jumpy, thinking of her ‘task’; but she had also been very excited.

Losing the relationship she had with Nicole, one she enjoyed so much, was killing her. The arousal at being placed in a submissive position and the incredible sexual release she found in those situations were what she was desperately missing; how she wanted that to continue. Her first choice, without a moment’s thought, would be to live under Nicole’s domination, but that wasn’t going to happen, at least not now; so here she was. Her mistress had made it clear when she saw her today, that she expected her Sweet Sue to come to work Tuesday with a good story.

So now she sat, in a lounge suggested by Nicole, a glass of wine before her, wearing a black dress with nothing on underneath, apart from her breast harness, which didn’t cover anything up.

Miss N had also spelled out some criteria: no one much older than Susan; no one younger than Meaghan; no over-weight women and no ‘butch’ lesbians.

Susan looked around again, as furtively as she could. A classy-looking blonde, hair down to her shoulders, late thirties wearing an expensive business suit, was sitting across and diagonally from her, but another woman had joined her. However, the blonde kept throwing glances Susan’s way. Bucking up her courage, Susan gave the woman a smile that she hoped was warm and …inviting. The woman gave a quick smile back, along with raised eyebrows.

At that moment, her companion stood and headed off to the ladies’ room, and the blonde looked directly at Susan, mouthing the words; “Are you alone?”

Susan, her heart beating so strongly she thought it could be heard, nodded her head in affirmation. The woman then asked, smiling; “Do you want some company?” to which Susan nodded an emphatic ‘yes’.

Then the companion returned, but stood chatting with the blonde, before she leaned in and gave the woman a kiss on the cheek; then headed off. The blonde looked again at Susan, then nodded at the place beside her, and Susan stood, grabbed her glass and moved over to the table, trying not to rush.

“Hello.” the woman said, with a decidedly Boston accent.

“Hi back,” Susan said and smiled.


“Susan.” They shook hands, Beth holding Susan’s for a moment. She had warm hands with perfectly manicured nails. After some introductory chat about occupations etcetera, Beth moved a hand onto Susan’s knee.

“So, I have not noticed you here before.” Beth noted.

“My first time,” Susan confirmed, “You come here, um, a lot?” Susan asked, awkwardly.

Beth laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t say, ‘a lot’, but I have been here before. She rubbed her hand along Susan’s thigh. Her voice was quiet now as she said, “I see you have no nylons on.” She smiled; it was a pleasant smile; she had a pleasant face and manner.

“N-no, “ Susan admitted, “it’s, um, easier to um, enjoy me that way.”

Beth squeezed Susan’s thigh, strongly but not unpleasantly, moving her face closer to Susan’s. “You like…being enjoyed, my little slut?” Beth asked in a voice that was low and compelling.

“Ummmm, yes, Miss Beth, I do. I like being…obedient.”

Beth’s hand moved right up into Susan’s crotch and squeezed. “Um, my sweet, little bitch, I like obedient girls. And I love that you have nothing on and your pussy is open and available. You are a little slut aren’t you?” Beth asked, her face right beside Susan’s now.

Susan was having a hard time focusing; she could already feel an orgasm building; her heart was pounding, her breath was coming through her nostrils and Beth’s fingers were making their way into Susan’s wet and waiting hole. “Oh, yes, Miss Beth, I am a

l-little slut, if you want. Please, um, please use me.”

Beth had forced three fingers into Susan’s pussy while her thumb was rotating on Susan’s clit, “I think my dirty little pussy-slut is going to come all over my hand, hmmmmm?” she purred.

“Oh, ohhhhh, umm-ummm. Ahhhhh, yes, yes please Miss.” Susan wanted to just lie back and let it happen, then Beth stopped.

“Okay, I think if we’re going to get anywhere, we need more privacy. I want you back at my house, yes?”

“Oh, yes, please Miss.” Susan uttered, desperate for the hand to return to its work.

Minutes later they were in a cab heading for northwest Philadelphia. Beth and Susan were sucking on each other’s tongues, and Beth had happily discovered Susan was wearing a harness.

Like Susan, Beth had a wonderful home.

“No husband?” Susan asked as they headed up the walk, Beth’s hand up Susan’s skirt as she guided her along.

“No, divorced now four years. How about you; I see no ring.”

“My, um, husband actually passed away this year.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Beth paused as she unlocked the front door.

“Oh, it’s ok. The marriage had been over for a long time. Roland’s, um, passing was sad, but really, it was not a huge blow. Does that sound harsh?”

“No, not at all. It sounds, realistic. Go in.”

They entered and Beth led Susan into a sort of den that had a couch and a large television. Without any preamble, Beth stripped Susan and had her kneel on all fours. “So, what do you like, Susie-Q?”

Susan had to think; what did she ‘like’? Everything Nicole did to her; but that wouldn’t be a good answer. So Beth began to go through some different choices and

after a minute or two declared herself satisfied.

“Stay in that position until I return; and, call me Mistress Beth.”

“Yes, Mistress Beth.” Susan dutifully replied.

In a moment Beth had returned. She stood in front of Susan and dropped an object to the plush carpet. It was a black leather dog collar, with one word, ‘Bitch’, embossed on it. “Put the collar on and that will be your name.”

“Yes, Mistress Beth.” Susan rasped in a voice full of desire. She put the collar on and sat up, looking obediently at her new mistress.

“You can start by licking my shoes, Bitch.” Beth sat and stretched out her legs.

“Yes, Mistress Beth,” Susan murmured, crouching and placing her tongue against the black patent leather, keenly aware of the juices oozing out and dripping down her thighs.


Amara looked over the notes from her source in London; Doukas was selling paintings. They have to be stolen, she thought. She would need more info, so she sat at her computer running some names and ideas for a while, and decided that there were three possible people Doukas could be in contact with, and since only one was a woman, that would be his likely target. Rosalind Kane, Amara said to herself, what do we know about you?

Over two hours later, Amara noted it was five in the morning; she would leave this for now, but she felt she had made progress. She had a pretty good grasp of what Ms. Kane was all about and the text she sent to her London associate could produce results.

But that would be for later; for now she needed sleep, even if only a few hours.


As Susan drove home, she had a hard time keeping the

smile of satisfaction off of her face. Tonight had gone about as well as she could have hoped for; not only because of the two orgasms for which she was very grateful, but more for the possibility of developing the relationship with Beth further.

It was not the same, had not been the same, as with Nicole; but it was not exceptionally different either. Beth was not big into discipline; and bondage was to be used sparingly. Susan felt good about that. No, Beth was all about slaves being in their place, being humiliated and used.

As Beth spoke quietly to Susan after her second climax, explaining how she wished to use the woman, Susan felt a surge of excitement.

Everything Beth suggested seemed right to her.

And of course, she now had a very good story to tell Mistress N.

That was for sure.

(End of Chapter 08)

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

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 07 Whereof What’s Past is Prologue 

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

“Oh, but it is.” Doukas confirmed.

“It’s a wonderful forgery…”

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

“But this Metzinger has been lost for…”

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

one by the reaction.

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

mother take the erection into her mouth.

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

“What are you watching?” Hailey asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

we’ll be talking about colleges and stuff.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did she kiss your, you know, vj?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

(End of Chapter 07)


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

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 06 To Be All Made of Fantasy 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and I intend to use them.”

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly a military chopper came in out of nowhere,

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

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

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

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

“I guess.”

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two days later Sheffield came for them and where they

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


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

“So, what is this about Mr…Doukas?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


(End of Chapter 06)

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

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 05 When You Have No Choice, Find Courage 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

Maybe the only good thing.


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

door at one end suggested an adjoining room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

These violent thoughts gave her some solace.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Say please, Miss Manos.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

(End of Chapter 05)

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

A Field of Candles

by LongDarkRoad

Chapter 04 If You Could Help Me Find My Way 

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

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

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

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

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


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

she would be back later in the week.

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

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

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

“That’s cool,” Meaghan said quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was business.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

other area.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


The girls were gone.

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

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

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

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

“You were right, she is a lesbian.”

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

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

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

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

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

Sheffield nodded. “As you say, sir.”


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

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

on a regular basis.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


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

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

“May I look at them?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Disney, as in Disneyland?” Meagan asked.

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


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

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

(End of Chapter 04)

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

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 03 Within Yourself You Find the Road 

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

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

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

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

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

Then she could dedicate herself totally to…Miss N.


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

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

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


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

She had a good feeling about today.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

extending her hand.

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

well. “I have no decorations.”

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

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


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

Meaghan laughed, “Wanna grab a coffee?”

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


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

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

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

and the annual billing would be substantial.

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

It was time.


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

She took off coats etcetera and placed her briefcase on

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh Roland….”

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

“What will you do?” She asked.

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

Silence settled on them.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you ask?” Susan wondered.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

“Of course, sir.” Sheffield replied evenly.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

past the expensive shoes and into the room.


(End of Chapter 03)

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

A Field of Candles

By LongDarkRoad

Chapter 02 A Fork Stuck in the Road

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have you thought of leaving him, Susan?”

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the line had already gone dead.


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

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


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

He had decided now to push his agenda forward, his

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Susan chuckled, “Really?”

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

Susan laughed now with some embarrassment. This was

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

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

“Our cunts…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Because you want to please me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

of the answer.

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

“Stop.” Nicole commanded, quietly.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mr. Farner is….”

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


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


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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At the word ‘slave’, Susan almost came.


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

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

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

She really would.

(End of Chapter 02)