DarklyEverAfter

by Allistar Parker

  Morgan never bothered dressing her for the ride home. That was fine with her. She liked the opportunity to cuddle up in the back of the limosine with him and the way he nursed her wounds as they rode home. Morgan also liked the availability of her breasts in those clothes. Always open at the breast and always available for a few suckles or nibbles, whatever the situation called for. Often his finger found its way into Carla’s cunt, slipping into the wetness created by all those punishments.

  Thomas shifted the rear view mirror to catch the action beginning in the back seat. Morgan had already begun making her nipples a priority. It wouldn’t be long before her tattered panties would end up on the floor and Carla would find herself spread eagled in the back seat with Thomas and everyone else on the Outer Loop watching her master manipulating her clitoris to an orgasm.

  Morgan gave Carla something more important than the humiliation of being exposed to the world with his backseat antics. She received a kind and gentle touch. After all the torture and punishment, Morgan was the one that offered her pleasure and relief from all that the world offered her. Her body was exposed to his soft touch and caring smile.

  Morgan kissed her forehead with gentle butterfly kisses fluttering all over her face. He smoothed the wrinkles around her eyes as he licked away the salty tears she shed. Along her inner thighs, Morgan massaged the skin slowly and smoothly. Carla felt loved.

  Neither was surprised that Carla’s strongest orgasms happened in the backseat of Morgan’s limousine. This orgasm was no exception. Her back, still crimson from the lashes, arched to meet his rushing fingers. Her lungs labored to supply enough oxygen to the body for such a force crawling up Carla’s spine. At the moment of peak excitement, Carla lost control of her speech and her juices, flooding the seat and carpet in front of her.

  “That’s going to leave a stain,” Morgan muttered just loud enough for Carla to hear.

  Morgan held Carla’s nipples tight until her shuttering ended. He kissed her again, more distinct than before. Plunging deep into her mouth, the two entwined their tongues in a frenzy of passion.

  The slamming car door brought Carla back to the real world. Thomas was already preparing to escort her to her room when Master Morgan turned to address the two.

  “Thomas, have her ready for a swim after dinner, would you?”

  “Most certainly, sir. Should she be in her swim suit? Or are we skinny dipping tonight?”

  “I think a suit would be appropriate, at least for the beginning. If I desire her naked later, I can have her strip for me by the veranda.”

  Morgan disappeared into the night. Thomas helped Carla gather her things from the limousine before ushering her through the back door. The stairway was empty, except for a young couple too busy groping each other to notice a sharply dressed man and an almost naked woman slipping through the building.

  The third floor hall, decked in dingy wall paper and out of date carpet, smelled of mold and stale cigarettes. The creaky door to Carla’s apartment slammed against the stops as Thomas tried to manipulate the handbag and two small cases through the narrow opening. Openly surprised to find the place straightened, Thomas laid the luggage on the floor before turning to Carla.

  “I cleaned the place before I left,” Carla said.

  “Ms. Carla, you know I always do that for you. You don’t have to work so hard for Master and then clean house,” Thomas stared at the ground as his voice trailed off.

  Carla opened the fridge and fetched a cold drink. Rolling the bottle across her chest felt better than any of Morgan’s massaging. With the hot sting of all that caning subsiding, all that was left was the dull ache in her nipples and ass.

  “Is my ass still red, Thomas?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t usually look at your behind.”

  Carla walked in his direction, still rolling the cold bottle across her chest. “Oh, come on, Thomas. You know I see you staring at me in the mirror.”

  Carla loved to flirt with him. She was bad, so bad he had to be careful not to fall for her tricks. Carla liked the punishment she inflicted on him. He may not have liked it, but she smiled through each session. A few minutes in paradise with Carla would net him punishment he could not bear. Just the thought of Thomas strapped to the cross and watching him strain at the ropes made her blush.

  Master was evil. He enjoyed watching people in pain. Women he wanted to see struggle and fight the screams. He wanted men to take the punishment up to the point where they wished for death. Carla was sure that an employee would suffer unspeakable acts at his hand, ones to gruesome to miss.

  “Perhaps a cool shower would sooth those bruises, Ms. Carla.”

  Carla cast off her final bits of clothing as she walked to the bedroom. He waited until he heard the water splashing around in the shower before retrieving her clothes from Carla’s closet. The dress would be comfortable while still allowing Morgan full access to Carla’s privates. He chose accessible swim attire, as well.

  Carla secretly watched Thomas fuss about with the clothes as she peered through the shower door and out into the bedroom.

  Carla loved to watch Thomas in those few minutes of rest from caring for her. He flopped in front of the television. There were no phones ringing or people demanding his services. He could be himself, a sight she loved to study. She allowed him to eat what he liked, drink from whatever he found, and to rest in perfect seclusion while he waited for her to primp and become the vision Morgan demanded.

  “Nothing on the television, again?” she shouted over the shower spray. “How is it that you have one hundred channels and no interesting programs on any of them?”

  “Just lucky, I guess,” he shouted back. He hated those comments.

  Emerging from the bedroom, Carla was gorgeous in her green dress. The back line exposed just a hint of the small of her back. The cut of the neckline attributed to the young lady’s cavernous cleavage. In this dress, Carla would certainly impress Morgan.

  “There is time,” she commented. “Want to have a go at it on the table?”

  A troubled expression crossed his face. She had found that blush in his cheeks again. She knew he wanted to take her up on those offers, but couldn’t. There was nothing she could give him that wouldn’t cost both of them everything they had worked for, his pension and her position in this relationship. She could start over. She didn’t know what Thomas could do if he lost this job.

  Morgan had a family and children. All he needed was a woman to fulfill his every sexual desire, however depraved or indecent. Carla fit the bill. From the moment he found her walking the streets of Malboro, Carla decided she would satisfy all that Morgan could conceive.

  “Have you taken your pill, Madam?”

  Carla stared at Thomas with contempt. “There is no need. I think we shall make a baby and the pill would impede that progress.” She looked over her shoulder at Thomas with a gentle smile.

  Thomas’ gaze followed her leg from her foot upward. Propping her foot on the coffee table exposed her dark bathing suit bottoms.

  “We might as well have a go at it. If you plan to get pregnant, we shall both be out of a job.”

  “Fine then. Grab a piece of couch, old man.”

  She didn’t want him to give into her offer, as having a go would not be proper. Her world was of a kept woman. He was a gentleman’s gentleman, assigned to care for Morgan’s tryst partner. All the years of training and dedication to meeting those standards would be compromised in that one instant if they chose not to back down.

  “Got no guts, Thomas?”

  “Madam, my internal workings have no bearing on the situation.”

  The door closed behind him as he made his way to the car. Carla watched as he drove the car around the parking lot to the front entrance. The drive gave her time to make it to the curb. She loved the way he watched her slide into the seat. Invariably, she would open her legs while maneuvering into the car, affording Thomas a view of her panties. On rare occasions, she
would wear none and wait for his eyes to bulge.

  With more deliberate motions, Carla slid into the seat, exposing her crotch to his view.

  “Rocking the fur panties tonight?” he asked. She slowly closed her legs.

  A contemplative look covered his face as if he had something to say. He walked to the driver’s side of the car. Temptation overtook him.

  “Don’t you think the master will notice the lack of swimming bottoms?”

  She didn’t answer. A smirk crawled over her lips as she studied his reaction in the center mirror. He glanced back at her often as he made their way to the club. First, she straightened her dress and fiddled with her hair, getting both just like he liked her to do. The game was on, one they played often. How far will she go this time?

  Too far. Her knees spread wide enough to expose her hairy pussy to the mirror. With the dress bunched up around her waist, nothing was hidden. Her puffy lips and her wet, pink flesh shone in the mirror brighter than ever.

  Thomas turned down Lincoln Street to avoid any traffic. The fewer cars they passed, the less likely that they would be noticed. He must have thought he wouldn draw less attention if he adjusted his seat to afford him a more relaxed view. He adjusted his seat to perfection, a small but important detail that let her see his face as well. With just a little lean to the left, she offered him the perfect view of her gaping cunt, a vision of delight she thought.

  Finally, a red light at the corner gave both of them time to concentrate on the action. She kept her eyes fixed on his reflection in the mirror. Her nimble fingers walked along the outside of her lips, pulling and teasing the little hairs along the ridges. His dick must have sprung to life as she noticed him running his hands along his crotch. With slow, deliberate motions, Carla slid her fingers along the slit and down into the depths, pulling back a finger covered in liquids and glistening in the green light.

  A few honks of the horn from the guy behind him foced Thomas back to his driving and the task of getting this young woman to the club. Morgan, with his attitude toward waiting, surely would not be there before the two of them arrived, but Carla didn’t want to take a chance on the punishment for arriving late and making the master wait. She urged Thomas to move along. But she didn’t stop.

  Carla’s exploration of her vagina continued. She expended several subtle moans along the way. Stealing a quick glance every so often, she found slipping his hand down to his crotch to adjust the growing problem in his shorts. The more he adjusted, the more pressure she received form watching.

  Her fingers migrated from simple caressing to hard core rubbing. Diving deep in her crevice, she frantically rubbed every part of her pussy she could find, from the frog-hair fine bush around her outer lips to the swollen spots deep in her vagina. Faster and with full support, she bucked her hips in rhythm with her grunts. Finally, she couldn’t watch and finger herself at the same time. He was on his own . In the moment of her passionate explosion. He had to pull over.

  The car wasn’t the only thing he was pulling. Jerking on his dick through his pants he found his thick, long dick stretching and pulling at his shorts, so much that he gave into his wanton desires and unzipped his pants. She didn’t care that he had stopped, only that she could only see his arm frantically pumping his dick in the front seat. Even with the poor view, seh loved the excitement of watching him. She thought ne needed this. She knew she needed to see it.

  The sound of the zipper must have energized Carla as her finger movements intensified to a fever point. Thomas again began to stare in the mirror with a look of amazement on his face. She, too, was amazed that she could move her fingers, all three of them, in and out of her cunt so fast.

  “Damn it, I’m coming,” she muttered between gasps for breath.

  A flood of fluids gushed from her lips, splashing all around her finger and onto the seats, carpet and upholstery. In one violent motion, she collapsed on the seat in exhaustion.

  WItht he show over, he began to pack his dick back into his pants.

  “Don’t you dare,” she ordered. “You watched me, now I’m going to watch you.”

  Either intrigued or from nervous energy, he retrieved his dick and slowly continued his stroking.

  “Slow down. I don’t want you to come too fast.”

  He slowed his strokes, but stole a glance at the clock.

  “Ten minutes. You’ve got time.”

  The slick feeling of his precum covering his dick allowed his hand to move smoothly over his skin. His slightly pungent, but sweet smell surprised her. There was an exciting tension surrounding the act of watching him she couldn’t explain. Nothing had felt this good in a long while.

  She likened the feeling to the first time she had sex with a man. Everything she touched felt electric to her, making the guy desirable. Now that Thomas was at her mercy, she began to touch and prod every sensitive part she could find, except his dick. When he looked ass if he could stand no more, she wrapped her warm lips around it, Thomas collapsed against the back of the seat looking embarrassed as he came. The dam had been breached and a flood of cum spurted from his dick with each and every pulse in his body.

  “Excellent!” she shouted. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  Thomas fixed his trousers and tried to wipe up the evidence with a cloth he kept in the glove box. Carla sat in the back, rubbing her clit for one more orgasm before they met again with Morgan. With all the excitement of watching Thomas, it took only a few seconds.

  The drive to the club was uneventful and short, so short that Thomas was still struggling with his clothes and the seat covers when they arrived.

  As Carla exited the car, she gave Thomas her usual peck on the cheek. Morgan stood at the door, waiting for the reason of their tardiness. With a small apology and a story about rather difficult traffic, Carla passed the boss on her way into the building.

  “Just wait until you hear the real reason,” Carla muttered under her breath .

  Chapter Twelve The Secret Sins of Amy

  As a child, she used to run wild in the clover, laughing and giggling as she went. I watched her with joyful love in the spirit of a godfather. The fresh face and awkward gait amused me, like watching a newborn colt learning to run in the pastures. Amy was that new breath of life in mine.

  It was awkward when I first heard her mother passed away, the solemn voice of her father telling me our one-time competition had met her maker and passed over to greater things. I cherished the offer to help in their daughter’s upbringing, but I knew the pain of living that close to my true love’s offspring would place a measurable toll on my heart. In this life, I could not afford such a trauma.

  I did attend her first communion. Those beautiful deep blue eyes captured my attention the second she rolled down the stairs in that brilliantly white dress. Her hair was the color of sunshine and she smelled of fresh air and lilacs in the summer.

  The years passed and I found myself visiting her father often. We had long since made our peace over Delila, even to the point of fond remembering sessions of past transgressions between the two of us. The ruined dates, the bickering, and the fervent insults felt childish. The more we laughed about it, the worse we felt.

  It was the fall just after Amy had graduated college and the old man and I were enjoying a drink in the parlor by the fire. I thought the cold chill I was feeling were winter winds coming early. The room, a frigid mess even with Amy with us, held no joy. I was glad for that second glass of brandy.

  “Father has something to tell you.”

  I turned to my friend in quizzical manner for a statement. None came, except an admonition directed at Amy.

  “Old goat! Tell him.”

  He raised his eyes in my direction, but said nothing. He didn’t need to elaborate more than the glance. He was dying. The long face, the trembling hands, and ghostly frown gave me all that I needed to know.

  We sat, sipping brandy for a few minutes, saying nothing. He rocked in the chair as he always did. I
sat there, looking out at the room, searching for something to comment on that might break the silly barrier to speaking, but all I saw was the normal items scattered about the room.

  With a small sip for courage, I broke the barrier. “At least you will get to see her first. Husbands should get there first.”

  He smiled, ready to talk. As we melted into another long evening of remembering, Amy slipped from the room, leaving the old men there to lounge away in idle conversation. With her gone, the conversation turned more serious.

  “You must watch after Amy. You are all she has left.”

  The thought of caring for such a young thing scared me. I had spent the bulk of my life alone and I finally had resigned myself to a solitary life in the shadows of the family I had always wanted. Now, in the moment of great pain, I found myself with a family thrust upon me.

  Not just a family, a family whose only members were adults. Amy had far surpassed the age where she needed a guardian, although, jokingly, I admitted I was rapidly approaching that time when I might need someone to care for me. I agreed to make sure she never wanted for anything.

  People were packed in the church so tight I was afraid to put my hands down for fear they would land in someone else’s lap. The music played in the background as the pallbearers carried my dear friend out of the church and placed him in the hearse for that long ride to the cemetery. Amy leaned on my shoulder, crying into my sleeve as she had done on occasion when she was a child.

  The cold winds blew across our faces as the preacher said his final words and each of the pallbearers tossed a handful of dirt on the casket. The end had come.

  “John,” Amy said to me. “I have something to tell you. I love you.”

  In that moment, sitting in her father’s chair, I found my true love, rebuilt and restored in the body of a nubile lady dressed in black. The lady I once wanted was now back in a new form.

  “I’ve wanted you since I first saw you naked on the beach in France.” Her words echoed in the room, but I heard little more after that statement.