by JJ Giles
“Get up,” Jerry ordered.
Incredulously, Rick stared. That wasn’t possible, yet he moved to comply. Whatever this guy wanted he could have anytime, anywhere. His arm flopped up enough for Jerry to grab it and pull Rick into his arms.
“Excuse us, please,” he said to Morgan.
Morgan nodded, herself undone in that little display.
She heard the water in the shower pulse enough to slow the double-time of her heart. She wrapped her arms around her body feeling her will to any longer resist him evaporate and leave her in a quagmire of desire. Cherry’s evaluation of her father’s skills returned with vengeance to leave tears dripping down her cheeks.
She went to the bathroom and peered through the mist to see them glowing under the sunlamp as if they were on fire from the inside. Rick was on his knees, Jerry’s flaccid penis swallowed to the root as Jerry tenderly washed Rick’s hair.
Jerry turned and filled his own palm to wash his hair. Yet Rick stayed on his knees, his face pressed to Jerry’s ass. Morgan thought she saw his tongue flick out.
Simply debilitated, she turned and went to change.
* * * *
Rick crawled into her bedchamber on his hands and knees, and then righted himself before her.
“Recovered?” Tenderly, she reached out and took the flaccid flesh to stroke it a little.
“Quite nicely, Mistress.”
Even as she held to the penis, she peered up at Jerry. “Was there anything else you’d like with him this evening?”
“No, thank you. That’s not to say I wouldn’t mind seeing him again sometime.”
She twisted the penis a little. “Then you are dismissed. But you may come tomorrow.”
He knew that was to collect a paycheck. “Breakfast?”
“Lunch.” She winked.
Rick returned to his hands and knees and moved toward Jerry. A swell of kisses washed over Jerry’s feet and Jerry thought he felt a tear or two fall. The slave’s lips slid up his shins to his knees, dusted over his thighs to his penis. Only there were the tears to flow profusely.
Jerry smiled. How he adored these exquisite submissives. Tenderly, he reached out and held the slave’s head to his body a moment. And then he bent and left a kiss on the slave’s head. “You may go now.”
Rick dropped back to the floor, sobbing and then crawled to the door and closed it behind him.
Jerry smiled at Morgan, a delighted smile she thought.
“I see,” she whispered.
“You see what?”
Her fingers wobbled to move him closer and then she reached out and took his weary genitalia in hand. But there was no response other than that. And it left Jerry simmering, praying that he had finally captured her attention.
* * * *
Dinner was over, the candlelight soft, the air currents stirring the black sheers around the bed in soft waves. He laid at her breast, contentedly suckling her serenity.
“Can I ask you something?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
“Whatever made a woman like you become a prostitute?”
“A woman like me?”
“Intelligent, very bright, very caring, and exceedingly attractive whom I find could do anything she wanted with her life. Why prostitution?”
“Because I like men.” The answer was simple. “Don’t get me wrong, I like women, too. Had quite a few female clients in the day.”
Yet she only softly stroked him as she raised him higher to lay on her breast.
“I, uhh...I was orphaned young,” she started. “Went to live with a childless couple in the parish who thought they wanted kids. They were cured of that desire within the first few weeks. They had to go to confession every day for year.
“Anyway, I was sixteen and I kept my job flipping burgers and frenchin’ fries. Some guy kept coming in and flirtin’ with me. Asked me out. He was forty at the time. So naturally, sweet little Morgan went out with him. He totally turned me on.” Her voice was filled with affection. “Within days I was his submissive, spent weekends with him. The day I turned eighteen, he took me to work with him, walked me through JD Rockingham’s door, stripped me naked, and threw me at JD’s feet. I was a professional prostitute before I graduated from high school.
“The money was damn good. That was twenty-two years ago, and I was making fifty thousand a year. Father Romanelli was pissed when he found out what I was doing. Living in a crappy apartment above a hardware store turning tricks, he thought. He couldn’t get the idea of ‘professional’ down. I’ve been all over the world, though. I mean...all over the world. For weeks at a time I’d be in Europe with JD, or Alaska with other executives. I didn’t need an apartment. I was with someone practically every night...and getting rich, or so I thought.
“But there was a couple of guys who worked for JD that needed discipline. So sweet little Morgan picked up a whip.
“I was twenty-two when Father Romanelli became simply exasperated with me and he hooked me up with a psychologist in the parish. I didn’t realize I was being treated until he took me home with him one night and tied me to the bed. And then he explained what a surrogate is and does. I went to California for a year.
“I like my job.” Her countenance shone in the dancing flames. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”
He nestled a little closer to lay his head on her chest. “If you hadn’t come along, I don’t know what would have happened to me.”
“You were desperate. I know there are a lot of things in your past that have totally screwed you up. I don’t know anybody who escaped childhood unscathed. You’ve made a lot of progress.” She hugged him tenderly.
With fierce desperation, his arms wound around her waist. “Morgan, I’m in love with you.” The very thought, the intensity of the sentiment broke loose and he began to sob.
“I know.” Quietly, her arms enfolded him. “I know, baby. I’ll care for you as long as you need it.” But the ugly truth...she was in love with him yet she resisted it as if it were poison. She merely held to him while it passed through him and then away.
“You feel like a bottle tonight?”
He only shook his head. He moved to take a breast into his mouth and fall asleep in her embrace.
Shit, she thought as she stroked softly through his black hair. Shit, as she gathered him closer, her own tears dripping on his cheek. What more could she want out of a man? This man in particular. This man was powerful, had control of himself. If she were to let go and succumb to him...
Chapter Thirty
Questions. Brian was plagued with nothing but questions. How to get them answered was another problem.
At two in the afternoon, he could call it a day. But those questions assaulted him. What the hell were his parents doing together? How was their marriage arranged? Why their marriage was arranged had become obvious now. His mom was pregnant with him. But why did Jerry marry her when he was Alex’s son?
He picked up the phone and dialed the executive suite at the Tower. At his request, Bryant quickly answered the call.
“How you doing, boy?” asked his uncle and namesake who was filled with concern.
“I’m alright,” Brian murmured. “But I’ve got some questions.”
Bryant hesitated. The thought that Brian wanted to know the details, needed to know the details was disconcerting. But Jerry wanted Brian back more than anything. If he could somehow help that process...
“I’ll do the best I can for you.”
“Do you have some time now?”
“I’ll make time. Meet me in Room 69 on the twenty first floor.”
“Thanks, Bryant. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
For a moment, Bryant pondered the occasion. And then he rose out of the chair and went to Jerry.
With only a glance in Bryant’s direction, Jerry offered, “Hey.”
Bryant flopped in the chair before the desk. “Jerry...Brian just called me. Said he’s got some questions.”
Q
uickly, Jerry turned away from the computer to lean over the desk. “I know he does, Bryant. You know that boy didn’t grow up too differently than we did. Our father was the Son of Satan. I not sure how much Brian remembers of it, though.”
“Back there is not somewhere I want to go anyway.” Bryant was adamant. “Is that what he’s thinking about?”
“I don’t know.” Jerry was filled with worry. “God.” His face paled in comparison to the papers strewn on his desk. “Don’t tell him his mother is a prostitute.”
“Jerry, don’t you think he deserves to know by now?”
“NO! Put him off, Bryant. Don’t make him remember and don’t tell him his mother is a prostitute!”
For a long moment, Bryant peered into Jerry assessing Jerry’s state. Maybe that would be better...for everyone, including himself. What they all had lived through brought them closer together. But to have to relive it couldn’t help. “Alright. I’m meeting him downstairs. I’ll be back after I speak to him.”
“Don’t fuck this up for me.”
Bryant nodded and walked away.
* * * *
Brian exited the elevator on the twenty first floor into a reception area. The double doors before him sported a ten inch six on one and the numeral nine on the other. But the door was locked. It could mean only one thing and he smiled.
Just then the elevator door opened. “Brian.” It was whispered with the warm inflection of love.
“Hey, Bryant.”
Heartily, his uncle grabbed him into an affectionate embrace. “We’ve missed you around here.”
“I appreciate that. I’ve missed you guys, too. And I appreciate your time this afternoon.”
Bryant nodded, then retrieved an electronic key card. Without hesitation, he swung the door open and held it for Brian to enter.
Brian peered around at what was visible of the room. This was quite different than any dungeon he’d seen previously. A fifty foot long Persian rug crafted in the bold and enchanting colors of precious gems led to a bar of walnut and polished aluminum at the end. Display platforms of polished walnut suited only to males lined the aisle.
“This must be where the Billionaire Boy’s Club meets these days,” Brian commented.
“It is,” Bryant said with pride. “The Lair couldn’t hold everyone any more. We still meet every other Friday night. But in the meantime, let me get you a drink.”
“Thanks.”
Brian followed the length of the carpet and took a seat at the plushly padded barstools edged in hard, brass nails. He took the glass of scotch and soda and sipped.
“What can I do for you?” Bryant asked.
Brian hesitated, unsure how to proceed. The last thing he wanted to do was insult Bryant. But there were things he needed to know.
“My mother,” he whispered.
Bryant tipped back his glass and steeled himself. “What about her?”
“She doesn’t fit in anywhere in the family, does she?”
Bryant shook his head, his determined stare on Brian. “Never has.”
“She married him for the money, didn’t she?”
“I think that’s a pretty safe assumption.”
Nervously, Brian lit a cigarette and reached for the ashtray. “I’ve been back at the Mansion awhile. I’m getting a feeling like she doesn’t tell the truth about anything.”
Outloud, Bryant laughed. “That’s a natural fact, son. Honestly, I’ve never figured it out. Is she simply incapable of understanding the truth or does she merely manipulate the truth to lead others to wrong conclusions? Never figured it out. Truthfully, I never liked her enough to care to figure it out.”
“I don’t think Dad does, either.” His hope was to illicit something deeper.
But Bryant only nodded. He could easily lose control in defense of his brother.
“So if Dad moved out because he needs to put some distance between them...”
“Exactly. Brian, your mother has been telling you for a lot of years that your father beats her stupid ass. I can prove to you that the day you stormed your father’s office and put on a show...” He was getting angry now. He drew in a deep breath. “I can prove to you that your father didn’t beat her up that time. I can give you copies of the insurance documents that prove that happened in France. I can also give you copies of documents that prove your father was in Washington DC that day with me. Documents we both signed.”
“Good.” His vision trailed off in the distance. The very proof, maybe, that his mother wasn’t all she appeared to be. “I need to understand this.”
“Alright. We’ll run by the insurance department before you leave. And may I say you really hurt your father that day. He didn’t deserve that.”
“I’m only now beginning to understand that. If what you say is true then that pretty much places suspicion on everything she’s told me through the years. She’s had me believing that since I left, her and Dad have resolved their problems and been happily married.”
“Oh, Jesus. Nothing could be farther from the truth, Brian. I don’t understand how her mind works, but... I knew a long time ago that she’s a dangerous woman. I never got that close.”
Brian nodded. There were another thirty three thousand questions he could ask. But if the insurance documents were valid, that would be a start.
“Anything else?” Bryant asked.
Brian peered into Bryant’s deep dark eyes a moment. “That’ll go a long way.”
“Good.” He was grateful the inquisition could end there. The purpose for meeting Brian in the dungeon was to distract him anyway. “So let me show you around.”
A broad smile lit Brian’s face. “Alright.”
With his arm firmly around Brian’s shoulder, Bryant led the way. “I laid this out. Of course, Jerry very much approved. Everything Jerry’s very fertile imagination can think up is here, but I decided on the arrangement.”
Brian stood at the threshold of another room created only by six foot dividers allowing the sounds to mingle with others in pleasure or distress. This was quite obviously the flagellation department furnished with the requisite equipment. He followed Bryant past another divider into the penitent’s room filled with cages and frames those bad little boys could be attached to. Several chairs in this room had phalluses attached to the seat for the obvious penetration required with additional cages for egregious genitalia.
“I like it,” Brian said sheepishly.
“I figured you would. I got something else I think you’ll like more.”
Brian hurried behind Bryant wondering how it could possibly get better. Wondering only until he reached Water Sports. The room itself was cut into a zigzagged configuration with a purging bench at every angle. Mirrors covered the walls so that those being cleaned could not only watch themselves and their attendants but each other as if in a house of mirrors.
“You’re making me ache,” Brian mewed.
“Oh, yeah? Then take your clothes off, boy.”
“Ohhh...Bryant, I know you got things to do.”
Bryant turned on his heels and stared directly with a menacing gaze. “Take your clothes off...now.” His voice was a deep malicious grumble.
Breathlessly, Brian nodded and ripped his shirt from his body. Only a moment later he stood naked, an unexpected little treat. Morgan didn’t play these games and it had been years, literally a decade since he’d enjoyed this. Quickly, he straddled the specially formed table of stainless steel and laid his shins in the curved supports. He leaned forward to slide his arms into those restraints so they could be locked down, preventing his escape. Wide elastic bands were drawn over his back and calves and then his thighs were banded in leather and attached to steel rods.
So horribly long since he felt this kind of exposure! He wished for a moment that Bryant would blindfold him so he couldn’t watch. Yet, he couldn’t help but watch as if something so horrible, something so unbelievable as to never be seen again was before him.
His ass cheeks
were spread wide pulling the anus painfully open. An ingenious device his father invented was held at the door. It was the double bladder that once inserted and then inflated would prevent any premature evacuation. Through the column in the bladder, the hose was inserted.
“Here it comes,” Bryant growled, his voice low and reassuring.
Brian let his head drop and closed his eyes the better to feel the sensation. A tidal wave invaded his body with force. The warmed fluid seeped into every curve, past every obstacle and seemed to boil there. It had been so long since he’d been so inside of himself. But the flooding didn’t stop and his belly distended painfully.
“Bryant,” he gasped. It was a plea that that was enough.
He felt Bryant’s hand cup under his belly to gauge his pain. Bryant’s hand brushed his stiff penis into further fury.
“Bryant!” He was certain his gut was about to bust.
Just then he felt the tide reversed. His gut was just as quickly emptied as if by a vacuum. But then it started to fill again.
Three times he was filled and emptied before he felt the bladders removed from his body. But Bryant didn’t unlock him as he believed he would.
Brian felt something at his genitals. He smiled to feel a ball harness installed. Quite restrictingly, it divided his testicles and wrapped around the base of his penis forcing his testicles into tight swells of painful flesh. Only then were the other restraints released.
“Get dressed,” Bryant ordered. Quickly, he pulled out his cell phone.
Only a moment later, Brian stood before him feeling as clean and fresh as he had in years. He listened intently as Bryant spoke.
“I have a willing penitent ready to sacrifice, My Lord. He’s coming your way now.” And then he clicked off.
Sternly, Bryant peered into his nephew’s eyes. “I suggest you go apologize to your father now. When he’s finished with you, I’ll have the insurance documents in my office.”