The advantage of living on the outskirts of town was that the century old family mansions were all miles apart, and had been built with numerous accessible entries that were necessary for both cooling before air conditioning, and as exits in case of fire.
Jacquelyn’s room was on the south side of the manor, and although her parents were in Europe, Thomas waited behind a tree to assure himself the servants were asleep. He made his way in the shadows along the side of the cabana by the pool, and he was relieved to find the French doors unlocked. He entered the atrium that had been added several years ago, allowing Mrs. Belmont to apply her green thumb during the colder months. Thomas’ sneakers were silent as he crossed the marble floor to the back staircase.
The servants had quarters in the basement, a full three floors below his destination. On her thirteenth birthday, Jacquelyn had pouted and whined her way into use of the turret as a bedroom. The stairs ran the length along the wall, and within minutes he was standing at the foot of her bed. The young woman, her coming out party only two weeks away to formerly introduce her into the small society that made up the elite of Martinsville, lay sprawled across the bed cover with a half empty bottle of vodka sitting on the nightstand.
Thomas relaxed considerably as he listened to her snore through her open mouth, drooling on the expensive silk bedcover. He walked to the side of the bed, lifted her waist-length flaxen tail, and removing the sheers from his pocket, he cut close to her scalp. She barely moved during the intrusion to her bedchamber, and as Thomas made his way back home, his eyes narrowed with the thought of her reaction in the morning.
He proudly held up the tail for his brother, while Sarah’s brows furrowed. Thomas turned to her, and as if his explanation would settle the matter, he said, “This will be our first trophy for our new room in the basement.”
Sarah thought of the uppity Belmont girl. Oh yes, she knew whom the hair belonged to… that snotty girl who had flirted so outrageously with her boys. Sarah looked up at Thomas, and smiled.
CHAPTER II
Dare he do it? he wondered. The girl had brushed her large tits directly against his shoulder, and when he turned to stare, she said haughtily, ‘Dream on, creep.’ She laughed at his humiliation while she skipped away, after working to get his attention. Yes, he could do it.
She lived in the apartment over her parents’ garage. He had watched her… studied her… and he knew she did not bother to lock the door. He climbed the stairs with agonizing slowness, stopping after every step on a creaking slat of wood. Still it remained dark above him, encouraging and insisting on his ascent.
He would have to be quick, and he had practiced with a mannequin bent in all the possible positions he might find her in. The soreness in his muscles had left him days ago after he had increased his exercise regime to make sure he was in top form. His size alone would disarm her, but he needed to get her silenced and secured quickly.
The man congratulated himself on his planning, and for remembering the small spray can of oil, and applying it to the old hinges before he reached for the knob. She lay on her stomach, her head turned to the side with her arms half raised. This would be easier than he had anticipated, and he quickly lowered onto her back, pinning her arms with his strong legs, and using both his hands to press her face into the pillow. Her legs flailed ineffectually at his back, and he leaned down hissing, “Be still and be quiet, or I’ll suffocate you.”
The girl immediately went limp and was silent, with the exception of a few hitching sobs. He fisted her hair and lifted her head slightly, preparing to drive her back into the pillow if she uttered a sound. His other hand shoved a foam ball into her mouth, and he felt it expand behind her lips. Rolling off one arm at a time, he gripped her wrists and secured them with a plastic tie, pulling until it left indentions in her pale skin.
He retrieved a blindfold and covered her eyes before he turned her over. She was shaking, and he saw the wet stain on her pajama bottoms where the arrogant girl’s bladder had let go. He yanked off the damp garment and her legs thrashed, but in her secured state he had no problem grabbing her ankles, spreading them and tying them to the foot railing. Her chest heaved with her sobs, and he stroked his erection. The scissors, the same shears he had used to collect his first trophy, made quick work of removing her top.
He spread her damp curls and stroked her folds, taking his time and finding her little bead of pleasure and forcing her passion. He wiped the expelled juices on her ruined top, and used the shears to remove the curls between her thighs. These he wrapped inside the shirt, stuck to her cream as she muffled her outraged sobs while he left the room. Crucial Needs
Sarah closed the book and laid it back on the nightstand. “I always love when you read to us, Sarah,” Jeremy sighed. His head was on her shoulder while his slender fingers toyed with a nipple. He raised his head and met her eyes. “You know just where to inflect your voice for meaning.”
Sarah thought back to when they were five, as far back as ‘Timothy Turtle’, and with this book, this twisted tale of desire, she naturally understood the boys’ new game… and she desperately wanted to read to the end. The flaxen ponytail had been hanging in the locked basement, a room being secretly added to with the strangest of devices and equipment, for two weeks.
She joined the boys in their exercise regime, and even Jeremy had managed to build up some muscle tone. Thomas was positively gorgeous, and she loved to massage oils and lotions on their bodies after they showered. She finally tested a question. “Thomas, how will Jeremy share this experience?”
Thomas grinned and walked over to the new cabinet housing accessories that made Sarah’s knees quiver and her juices flow. He returned with a small camera. “It has night vision, and it releases a small amount of light that exposes the picture more clearly when it is viewed. The microphone picks up the faintest of sounds. Jeremy and I watched us together two nights ago, and Sarah, we could even here your softest pants while you came.”
Sarah turned beet red, and yet, when Thomas asked her if she wanted to watch it, she could not help saying yes. The three of them together, twisted into sexual coupling and sweating in passion, aroused her to a frenzy shared by the boys. Before it had ended, they reenacted the entire filming through another passionate encounter.
Thomas spent a few days arranging Sarah in every conceivable sleeping posture they could come up with. It was interesting to watch him play the role of director, and Jeremy chimed in by having her lie on her stomach, with an arm and leg hanging off the bed. It was perhaps a good thing, because Sarah managed to easily shriek, and almost battled her way to the door. They gave Sarah earplugs, and instructed her to close her eyes. She lay slightly quivering, anticipating Thomas’ attack. After a few more tussles, they discovered that Thomas would need to immediately drive her head into the pillow, causing her to quickly react by trying to push up and free herself rather than to attack or escape.
Sarah searched her memory for houses with garage apartments, but it had been so long since she had paid attention to anything outside of the Plantation that she could not think of a likely target. Her mind wound through the actions of the debutants when they had been presented, and she realized than any one of the girls could be a target, with their seductive moves… or none of them. Her excitement heightened and she wanted to ask Thomas, but she knew this was part of the game.
On some days, Thomas left for half day journeys to purchase things for the dungeon… for that was what the locked playroom had become… or picking up things from an anonymous post office box. While they exercised in the basement, Sarah would look at the erotic furnishings across the room and her crotch would dampen while she considered their use. Thomas had already explained they were preparing for future games, but he assured her he would test every device with her first.
They were in the bedroom and still damp from showering, and Sarah was trimming Jeremy’s thin curls. She glanced at Thomas who was staring at her thighs, and her muscles cramped in anticipa
tion.
“Sarah, can I shave your pussy?”
“Of course, Thomas. Though, if you decide you like it that way, a depilatory would be longer lasting. Perhaps you could pick something up the next time you take one of your trips,” Sarah suggested.
Jeremy clapped excitedly at the denuded lips, reaching out and stroking the hanging flesh. “It’s perfect… perfect, Sarah. So welcoming and fresh.”
Sarah blushed with profuse pleasure. Her boys always made her feel so pretty and desirable. “Thank you, Jeremy.”
She could tell Thomas was close to executing his plan when his eyes began to fill with a constant dark heat and his sexual lust had become a frenetic, pounding affair. After one encounter, Sarah felt bruised, and it only deepened her attraction and love for him.
After oral pleasure one evening, Thomas announced he would be going out, and Jeremy and Sarah smiled broadly, encouraging him on his task. He stood from stroking the breast his brother was not attending, and dressed in his dark clothes.
“Thomas, are you sure you have everything?”
“Yes, Sarah.”
“Please be careful, Thomas, and remember to grab her head, first.”
Thomas glared at her, and Sarah shrank back against Jeremy, scrambling to think what she had said wrong. There was no reprieve from Jeremy either, as he said in an uncharacteristically cold voice, “Do not presume to tell your Master what do to, Sarah.”
“I’m sorry, Thomas. Oh, Jeremy, I’m so sorry.” There was a satisfying pleading in her voice.
“I think, perhaps, you should refer to us, as Master Thomas and Master Jeremy, to remind you of your place,” Thomas decided.
“Yes, Thomas… um, Master Thomas.” Sarah’s mind was in torment at having displeased them.
“You will be punished if you forget, Sarah,” he warned.
“Yes, Master Thomas,” she said in relief. They would forgive her… her boys would forgive her, and all would be well.
The boys held one of their silent communicating gazes, nodded, and after Thomas left, Jeremy resumed stroking her breast and asked casually, “Sarah, what do you have outside of the walls of the Plantation?”
Sarah gasped. She had just begun to feel comfortable after her mistake, and now Jeremy was sending her away. Was that their decision? In a small voice she answered, “Nothing… nothing, Master Jeremy.”
“Just as I have nothing in that world, Sarah, remember that. We both live through Thomas’ escapades.”
“Yes, Master Jeremy, I’ll remember,” and she felt a physical, palpable relief wash through her.
Thomas drove almost five miles and parked the small sports car on a dirt road leading into the woods and down to the river. He cut through the trees until he exited at the side yard to the McFarland’s home. The competent man continued to run the newspaper, and even with advancement of the Internet and twenty-four hour news, the subscriptions stayed at a healthy level. To read local gossip in print could not be duplicated… other than the video that had surfaced of Jacquelyn Belmont trying on wigs.
After their parents’ funeral, with the wake held in the house for Jeremy‘s benefit… although he still managed to catch the usual cold he got whenever outsiders entered the house… Thomas made a trip downtown to investigate their new businesses. His goal was to see to it that competent managers were in place and that they would require limited input from the new owners. He and Jeremy did not share their father’s interest in hands-on involvement.
When he entered the Kinsey Tribune offices, he found Mr. McFarland nervously going through reports on his desk and awaiting his new employers’ decision on the fate of the newspaper. Thomas was intimidating… dashingly handsome in a mysterious, dark way that was completely unsettling, though his daughter did not seem to mind.
Shawny was interning this summer before she traveled back to college, and even the old editor recognized the interest in her eyes. Thomas glanced at the mini-skirted girl serving them colas, watching as she managed to lean over so far in an attempt to distract him that more of her breasts and thighs were visible than covered. Thomas merely filed her actions away for future consideration, though before he left, he learned that until she returned to school she was staying in the carriage house on the back of the property.
She was having sex with the gardener, the cook’s husband, but the meetings were brief because he had to return to his own rooms and shower before his wife returned from finishing the dinner dishes. Shawny McFarland had not told him to lock the door when he left, and on two separate occasions Thomas waited until the man crept back to the main house and the carriage house lights were turned off, and tested the door to assure himself of the pattern.
The gardener had been gone for several hours by now, and Thomas stalked quietly up the stone path. The carriage house was more than one hundred feet from the back wall of the main house, and he was sure that nothing lower than a high pitched scream would breach the distant brick walls.
She was lying on her back, under the blankets… which was a relief as it would take her legs out of play. Still, Thomas licked his lips nervously, instantly regretting the action as he plucked several strands of the wool from the ski mask off his tongue. He glanced around the dim room and noticed a window seat with several fluffy bolsters, and although he had practiced twisting a girl’s head from the position she was in, he opted to quickly seal her lips with one of the loose cushions, after placing the camcorder on the dresser beside the bed.
He rapidly straddled her hips, plunging the pillow onto her face, and she raked his arms with her nails. In the morning, the black acrylic threads of the discount store sweatshirt, a brand bought by thousands, would be the only evidence of her attacker. Still, her actions pissed him off, and he growled, “Put your hands by your sides, or I’ll suffocate you before I leave here.”
She trembled as she dropped her arms, and he heard her wailing beneath the pillow until he pushed the foam gag into her mouth. He released the cushion to grab her arms, and it remained covering her face while he worked on hooking her wrists to the headboard. He reached under the pillow to blindfold her before tossing it to the floor, and then he stripped off her panties and used the scissors to slice through her top.
She had washed her groomed mound after her earlier affair, and there was a faint scent of strawberry clinging to her pussy as he spread the small lips. Her labia lay almost flat against her juncture, with none of the arousing fleshy fat Sarah had, and he found this mildly disappointing. Still, he worked the dampening folds until she squeezed her silent orgasm, and he wiped it with her shirt, trimming the minuscule hairs he could scrape with the sheers before grabbing the camera and hissing, “What a waste of time, you turned out to be.”
He knew she would never humiliate herself by repeating his insult, but the words would leave her scarred with uncertainty for many years. She would struggle to assure her fragile, vain psyche of her superiority, only to achieve the desired high with the drugs that would eventually destroy her.
Thomas was disgusted as he carefully made his way back to the car, taking a path that wound far in the opposite direction, before ending in the river rock that enabled him to turn back towards his vehicle. He tossed the camera, along with his mask, the shears, and the plastic bag holding the trophy, onto the passenger seat, and laid his head against the steering wheel. What a fucking waste of time. He banged his head softly on the hard leather surface. The unfairness shamed him, to be returning to Jeremy with this minimally arousing evidence. Jeremy depended on him… trusted him to be his eyes and other senses, in the world outside the walls. He started the car, and slowly drove home.
The couple on the bed immediately noticed Thomas’ lack of arousal, and the glittering pleased look of an exciting adventure was missing from his face. “What happened, Thomas? Couldn’t you get to her?” Jeremy asked.
Thomas tossed the bag on the bed, as proof he had completed his task. Without a word he inserted the tape into the player, and the trio silently w
atched Shawny McFarland’s degrading performance. Sarah spoke first. “She’ll be damaged from this. Master Thomas, with her quiet, reluctant climax, the fact that she had debased herself at all for a stranger, will leave permanent scarring.”
Thomas looked up hopefully. “How can you be so sure?”
“Look at me, Master Thomas. I am this way because of my stepfather, a man who humiliated me since I was thirteen. I can’t move from the safety of this house, from your father… from you. She is damaged, Master Thomas.” After she finished, Sarah should have cringed at the satisfaction that crossed over their faces, but she knew it was due to Shawny’s impending downfall, because the boys had already forgotten her confession.
There was no mention of the incident ever printed in the paper, or any other source the boys could investigate. Thomas waited a few days before visiting the newspaper offices and he learned that Mr. McFarland was on a short leave, and spending a week with his daughter before accompanying her back to college. She was giving up her private, off-campus apartment in favor of finally moving in with a roommate at the sorority house that was her mother’s alma mater.
The book, ‘Crucial Needs’, was set aside for a few years to collect dust, and the boys interests switched to new reading fare.
CHAPTER III
The ceremony was an event, an initiation into the spiraling world of compliance, as the Slave began training in total subjugation of her new life. The Master ran his finger over the leather, caressing the smooth black surface in awe of its power and meaning. It amused him to think that the collar was perhaps more important than the quivering girl kneeling before him.
He had already heard her wails and oaths to submit, although be it by the implications of some more devious devices, but he hesitated before accepting her commitment. At last he leaned down, and the girl issued a slight sob as the collar clicked into place, forever locking out her freedom, as surely as it bound her to her Master. Dominant Submission
Six Masters Island - Perverse Intentions Page 3