Gender: Female Age: 50 Location: N/A
|Introduction: Femdom Fiction|
This is a double bill. Phoenix Rising and Crystal, making an almost novella length story. The tales are separate but they have characters in common.
An adult tale by Miss Irene Clearmont.
Copyright 2011 (Nov)
Henry is a rich layabout who is just waiting for his twenty fifth birthday so he can claim his inheritance.
A massive blowout in a Bahamas casino finds him looking for a little cash and something to allay the boredom.
The deckhand job on the small cutter, the ‘Phoenix’, turns out to be just the ticket; a ticket on a ride that assumes a serious turn when he starts to uncover the intentions and duplicity of his employers.
Henry had a gambling problem. Actually it could be fairly said that Henry had a great many problems in his life! Gambling, drinking and being a womanising slob were his principal problems but there were other character flaws that occasionally made themselves felt. Usually they did not affect his life at all, or at least he did not allow them to.
Tardiness, facetiousness, indolence, licentiousness and shiftlessness were all minor traits that could have been listed as his trivial negative qualities.
In fact they battled for attention!
After all, Henry was really quite well off, in fact he was rather wealthy; though to look at him you would have thought that he was a typical wastrel. The trouble was that he was twenty four and until his twenty fifth birthday, he was as rich as Croesus but only on paper.
Every nephew and niece dreams of being the recipient of a fortune from an uncle or aunt. For Henry that dream had come true. Aunt Maisy had left him millions but she knew him well, too well. So the will was read and the usual fortune went to charity and good causes. Henry was the recipient of the fifteen million that was left over, but strings were attached. Until he was twenty-five he was ‘only’ paid ten thousand dollars a month from the trust fund, auntie Maisy had known what she was doing.
That had been four years ago and now that red letter day was approaching fast, but not soon enough for Henry. Not that that made a difference in his attitude and the way that he viewed life. He took his allowance in cash every month and spent it, often in the first few days, to leave him destitute the rest of the month as he waited for the next lump sum of cash.
On the island of Nassau, in the Bahamas islands, is more than one Casino. Each one was like a little slice of heaven for Henry. A place where all those character traits could mix, combine and ferment to form a heady cocktail of conduct that was tolerated because of the money that he could play, and lose, on the dice tables.
How had he got there?
Well there are so many ways, but the one that Henry had used was to take a cruise. Over the years he had often taken cruises when the ‘binge’ feeling overwhelmed what little self control he had managed to garner. He found that paying for all the basics of life a month in advance meant that he could spend the rest and always had some security to fall back on.
That had been the plan.
Four days from Miami and then three days on the island. Gambling and whoring, drinking and maybe doing the odd line of coke. Then back on the ship and another two weeks that would take him to Aruba or Curacao before he turned around to be back in the bank of America in Miami to pick up the next dollop of aunty Maisy’s fortune in cash.
That fourth day in the Paradise Island Casino had been nothing less than a twenty four hour binge. Henry had won big for the first time. With just five thousand he had been the main benefactor of a three hour roll that had seen him empty the table float and a follow on fill of a hundred grand. The heady, elevated thrill of having a pile of chips a mile high, the adoration of the female guests and the whiskey all combined to fix Henry to the table as he tried to recreate his win and go for a million.
Of course it was not to be.
It never is.
The dice were passed, the rolls petered out and all the drunken strategy in his fevered mind came to naught. The dawn was breaking as Henry left the casino with dragging feet, to find a taxi to take him back to the ship.
“Fuck aunty Maisy,” he muttered as he realised that he did not even have enough money to take a taxi.
The reason for his bitter mood was the fact that he knew that credit was the one thing that the conditions of the will did not allow. A single credit card, loan, floater, mortgage, prepayment or retainer and the money would be gone.
Gone forever to some cat home or good cause that had nothing to do with Henry. Worst of all was that that lawyer, Mrs Crystal Veryon, who controlled the trust fund, knew that if she could just catch Henry panhandling once then she would be the main beneficiary because the trust fund would live on and she took her fees as the administrator.
That bitch was like a spider in the middle of his life, her tight lips and old fashioned politeness, looking down at him. To her he was the only thing that stood between the money and her own bank account. All she had to do was catch him out.
After about six months he had realised that that prissy cunt of a lawyer had even set a private detective on his tail to check his every move. Had he taken out any loans? Was Henry breaking the terms of the will? Even his E mail account and his Facebook page had been hacked but nothing had come of it.
The result of this harassment had made him cautious and careful to stick absolutely to the rules. The money remained in the trust fund and he was nearly through the tunnel. Soon he would be rid of her and all her wiles.
So Henry walked from the casino to the dock!
But the huge silhouette of the ship was gone.
Tardiness had claimed its victim.
He looked at his watch and realised that the fucking ship had gone on without him and now he was stranded in the docks in Nassau with not a red cent in his pocket and two weeks to manage without any money at all. No money and no way of getting his hands on any money.
So he sat.
Henry had one character trait that held him in good stead, he lived in hope.
So he sat on a crate and thought about what he was going to do. Well, eating for the next few days was really no problem. He had enough player points to eat burgers for a month in the casino and if he asked for a room he might just get one.
Henry walked along the docks, from the massive piers where the liners docked, opposite Potters Cay, where the smaller boats and yachts of the rich were tied up. From there he could see the casino and the blue of the bay.
At last he found himself looking at the boats tied up and thought that in just a few short months he would be able to buy his own and solve all his problems when his twenty fifth birthday arrived with a bundle of money that even he could not spend quickly.
Or at least too quickly.
He cast a professional eye over the boats, motor cruisers, yachts and others that were almost small cruise ships before deciding that what he would buy would be at least thirty metres long and fast.
In the end it was all a daydream and he could feel the first pangs of hunger that meant that he would have to return to the casino and start begging from some fucking supercilious manager to get a room.
The walk was long and left him exhausted but at last he was over the toll bridge and sitting in the player’s bar that stood at the centre of ten empty craps tables.
He pulled his player’s card from his pocket and proffered it. In exchange he got a burger and fries and a whisky to smooth it down.
This was going to be a long two weeks...
With a little greasy crawling and continual references to the three hundred thousand that he had lost back to the tables, Henry managed to arrange a two week stay in the hotel at the back of the casino as well as enough player points to feed himself and drink a little as well.
So it was that three days after his loss he sat in the midst of a busy gaming floor looking longingly at the women and men who played at the tables. There but for a seven rolled, that damned one and six, stood Henry, at the centre of the storm.
He found himself sitting next to a guy in jeans and T shirt who by coincidence was drinking the same brand of Bourbon by the glass full. Not having had a conversation for three days, Henry made a comment which was answered in a friendly fashion and the conversation was under way.
“Name’s Larry, call me ‘Las’.”
“So what are you doing here? Las,” said Henry’s new friend as they raised another glass.
“I’m one of those people who get stranded when the cruise ship leaves on time,” replied Henry.
“Huh, bad luck.”
“Times two, I was well ahead on the craps and then I lost it and missed the ship.”
“So? Wired for some money then?”
“Can’t until next month.”
“Well that’s a shit result, what you gonna do for the next few weeks then for money?”
Henry laughed. The whole problem was one of tedium, nothing else now, so he felt that he could relax and not feel so depressed about the whole thing.
“Nothing, I’m living on my player points!” said Henry.
“Well I am a pilot, for Nassau harbour, I might be able to find some work for you. There is always a need for casual labour to clean and polish the boats and so on.”
“I’m not sure,” pondered Henry. “I mean it’s not going to bring much.”
“Just saying. A couple of hundred would at least see you with a better grade of Bourbon in your hand, if nothing else.”
“Where do I find you? I mean if I want to take it up...”
“We’re at the end of Potters Cay; come in tomorrow afternoon and maybe something will have shown up!”
When Henry was back in his room he contemplated the idea of working. Never had a hundred dollars seemed so much money as it looked like now.
That was the main problem. Being occupied always needed dollars, and in Henry’s case, thousands.
The next day Henry found his steps taking him to Las’ office. The thought of having another chat with the pilot was almost as attractive as the idea of earning a few dollars.
The office was not busy and Las was sitting in the sun outside smoking a cigarette and having a tea.
“Hi,” said Henry. “I just thought I’d come along to see what’s going on.”
“Not much at the moment, but funnily enough I think that I’ve found a berth for you, on the ‘Phoenix’.”
“Oh, I really didn’t want to leave Nassau. I suppose that I was looking for harbour work!”
“As you like,” replied Las with a grin as he offered a cigarette to Henry.
After a few moments Henry could not help himself asking about the job.
“Well,” said Las as though he had expected the question and already got his thoughts in order. “You see that small cruiser, there?”
He pointed at a fairly large motor yacht, the Phoenix, that was sitting lightly in the water on the dock.
“Well they are looking for a reliable man to take with them on a week’s fishing expedition. All he has to do is to man the wheel and make sure that the boat does not drift when they go diving.”
“I’ve never sailed a boat like that,” said Henry as he looked at the thirty metre boat and pondered if he could bull-shit his way on board.
“Nothing to worry about, Henry,” said Las. “I’ll introduce you and then we’ll take a quick trip on mine to show you the ropes. Piece of cake really.”
Las stood with a grunt and led Henry down the quay to the motor cruiser. It was an old fashioned fifties wood hulled cruiser that was both low and sleek, but was covered in brass fittings and mahogany that made it look dated compared to the gleaming translucent hulls of the ships moored to either side.
He bent down and rapped on the deck before they used the gang plank to board.
“Nothing the girls like better than a bit of old fashioned courtesy,” he commented as he called out, “permission to come on board.”
A young woman emerged onto the deck and smiled when she saw Las. Dressed in slacks, a loose top and just bare feet she stepped over the wooden deck and shook Las’ hand.
“Trudy, how’s it going?” said Las.
“Hi there, Las,“ she said in a breezy voice. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Henry,” said Las as he introduced them. “He’s had a couple of years experience on the water and might be the man who you’re looking for to man the boat.”
Trudy led them down the deck to a sunken stair that down into the bowels of the ship. Emerging from this stairwell was a man of about fifty who smiled and introduced himself as Steve.
“Call me ‘silent Steve’,” he said with a grin.
Henry looked at him, impressed. It was not that he was huge or muscle-bound but he was clearly an incredibly strong man. Just the grip of his hand had made Henry gulp as the enormous fingers enveloped his hand and squeezed almost to the point of pain.
Trudy smiled and asked of Steve, “Where’s Valerie? Still in Nassau?”
“Yep,” was all that Steve said.
“OK then, Henry. What we need is really quite simple,” said Trudy, “We are heading out to the Turks and Caicos for some fishing, a little diving and then back here. If the weather holds a week or maybe two, if it turns bad then we probably are out only a couple of days.”
Henry smiled. He was normally good at begging for money but he was not sure that he knew how to ask. He was rescued by Las.
“You said that you were offering a hundred a day, for the right man?”
“That’s right,” said Trudy. “So between a few hundred and a thousand probably. You’ve got to keep the boat ready, a little polishing and staying out of the way as well as you will be sort of butler as well! You can cook?”
“I do a mean omelette,” laughed Henry, “and I know every cocktail under the sun so there should not be any problem!”
“Sounds good,” said Trudy, “be back here at seven tomorrow and we’ll be off. Bring a passport.”
Las and Henry stood looking at the Phoenix for a moment from the dockside. There was no doubt that the old-fashioned lines of the big boat combined with the wood and brass made it a stunning work of art.
“Listen,” said Las. “You’d better take my card, we’ve gotta meet up for your lessons later and you’d better take my number.”
“OK,” said Henry as Las opened his wallet and pulled out a card with his phone number already scrawled on it in his untidy hand. Henry noticed that the wallet was stuffed with cash.
All in hundreds, but he affected not to notice.
‘There must be plenty of opportunity for a bit of business as a pilot,’ he thought as he changed the subject.
“That Trudy, she’s a bit hot,’ he said.
“Yep! She’s a looker,” said Las as they headed back to his office after a casual ‘good bye’. “But you should see her friend, Valerie! She was my wet dream for a year until I realised that she’s less horny than ornery, I like ‘em big and a bit older than most men.”
“Who’s that Steve character?” asked Henry.
“Not sure, because I don’t think that he’s with either of them, the two women.”
“Not really, Valerie is pretty rich, or at least she has loads of money from what I can gather and Trudy is her girlfriend. Steve’s just their factotum and the pilot of the cutter. They are here about once a month for the diving and so on.”
Henry felt a little let down, Trudy had struck him as a bit tasty and he was disappointed that she was probably not available.
Henry had arrived, on time, with his one bag and a feeling that he was embarking on an adventure. The money was just a joke to him, it was the trip and the escape from boredom that had hooked him.
The two hours on Las’ boat, yesterday, had given him a good understanding of how to steer and handle the boat. Not really as difficult as he had imagined, with a wheel and the various throttles and so on he quickly understood how it all worked.
He could not understand why Las had so taken with him and showed him the ropes all at his own cost. On the other hand Henry was a man that took for granted that all his friends loved his wit, his easy going manner and his good looks.
He was shown a cabin at the very front of the vessel that just fitted a barred cot and a small cupboard. A single thick glass porthole allowed him to look out and a sink provided a trickle of fresh water.
Steve spent almost all of his time tending to the huge engines and doing various tasks that Henry took to be the normal run of the mill of operating the cutter.
Henry could understand Las’ interest in her. Tall, and big in every way, she had been striking years ago, but it was made pretty clear early on that the two women formed a close couple and that even Steve did as he was told when Valerie ordered it.
Henry soon found that he was at a loose end and when Valerie noticed it she started to give him a stream of things to do.
Polish the brass work on the decks, cook a meal in the galley, make cocktails, wash up and keep lookout. Even with all this petty work to do Henry had time to observe the boat’s occupants and make judgements about them.
As far as he could see, Steve was nothing more or less than the mechanic, odd job man and oft times steersman of the boat. Calm and unperturbed he did as he was told by the two women without a murmur.
On the other hand, Trudy seemed flighty and constantly happy. She spent a great deal of time on the foredeck soaking in the sun, topless and seemingly unaware of the gaze of a rather avid Henry. He watched her undress and then lie first face down and then she turned to even the tan. She was slim, narrow hips and waist and long legs.
Tattoos embellished her, from breasts to the tops of her thighs, a pattern that Henry found fascinating, sort of a paisley pattern, like a quilt of colour that faded at the edges and was strongly colorized in the middle where it vanished under her slight bikini bottom. Then there were those breasts. The sun caught the flash of gold at their tips that were the reflections on gold piercings that adorned the nipples.
Last on the list to be under the inspection glass was Valerie. She spent a great deal of the time at the wheel letting her long red hair flow in the wind as the cutter made its way north through the crowded sea lanes between the various islands of the Bahamas. She wore tight clothing, jeans and blouse, which showed her figure to considerable advantage. Large breasted and wide hipped she had compensating long legs that put the picture in balance. There was no way that Henry would have described her as beautiful, but he had to admit that she had something; something authoritarian and potent in her personality even if she was more than twice his age.
Valerie expected her orders to be followed and Henry could understand how it was that they were! She had a sort of natural formidable personality that brooked no contrary word.
At night they moored in the lee of some small cays and then they pressed on, but in a leisurely fashion. With Hugh making the drinks and Steve tending the engines.
As Henry had no idea about navigation, and in fact never even thought about it, he did not realise that they were not heading south east where the Turks and Caicos Islands beckoned but north, parallel to the coast of Florida, but with that land well below the horizon.
Henry started to enjoy himself despite the tyranny of Valerie’s po-faced rule. He polished the brass work and got useful experience with steering the vessel as they went. His omelettes were celebrated and in demand and the bit of tidying and work that he had to additionally do under the watchful eye of Valerie did not stop him enjoying the sight of Trudy and her quilt-work markings.
Swimming In Deep Waters.
The weather held, so Henry figured that he could expect the full two weeks on the boat. For some reason he found that he was enjoying himself enormously, such a change from the pseudo delight of the craps tables and the solace of all that Bourbon.
West End Key is a western extension of Great Abaco, a narrow bar of sand, coral and rock that extends like an accusing finger pointing at Florida. Below it, just to the south, are a collection of cays that nestle in the shallow waters and provide sighting marks for sailors and a distraction from the intense blue for tourists.
The fishing is good and the diving is great there, amongst those slivers of land. It was there that the Phoenix finished up with its four diverse passengers.
They spent a day fishing while Steve spent his day gazing through the powerful binoculars that he pulled out of his cabin.
It was Valerie that most seemed to want to reel in a big Bluefin but it was Trudy that attracted the fish. The pan fried steaks that resulted were one of the best meals that Henry had ever eaten, or maybe it was just the blue of the sea in the sunset and the gentle swaying of the cutter that lulled him into his state of enjoyment.
The next day Valerie moved the boat closer to the small cays and Steve, Valerie and Trudy did some scuba diving. The water was shallow and clear as crystal so Henry spent his time watching the three of them as they swam.
To his imagination Trudy was like some exotic fish, the patterns of her tattoos seemed like scales on her body. Steve was a whale, even through the surface of the azure he seemed huge and powerful, a deliberate and purposeful swimmer. Valerie was the lurking shark, she stayed by Trudy and swam to and fro as she kept a watch over her prey, continually looking up to check that the cutter was still in sight.
In the end Henry got bored and turned to the various small tasks that Valerie had given him before the dive. He was a little jealous of the other three, but then, not only had diving and swimming never really appealed to him, he convinced himself that one of the four had to stay aboard.
The sun burned down and Henry put on a huge battered straw hat that he had found in a locker. Starting at the front of the boat, over his own cabin he worked his way back, polishing the brass before working on all the varnished wood that formed the decks of the boat. Finally he lifted the hatches over the engines so that he could polish the gratings and he got a surprise.
Anyone who is interested in American cars will know about the Hemi-426. Henry, who was a bit of an aficionado, immediately recognised the four huge Chrysler car engines that sat in the rear of this boat that would make it one of the fastest things on the water! This was untrammelled raw power even if these engines had not been tuned.
Henry quickly put the hatches back in their place all the while he wondered why a boat like this, a pleasure cutter, a casual cruiser, might need over two thousand horsepower under its bonnet. It really didn’t make any sense unless... unless of course the boat was some sort of ‘go fast’, in other words a smuggling boat.
But what was there to smuggle here, on a diving and fishing trip in the north Caribbean?
Well, he decided it had to be drugs, what else was there to move from South to North America that could be worth enough to afford this type of boat?
A shiver passed along his spine as thought that he was involved in some sort of illegal activity that was punishable by life in jail. Somehow he had to get off this boat. Then another thought occurred to him.
They knew who he was!
If he cut and ran then some crazy drugs cartel or some such would be after him, he knew the boat, the people and now that they were smuggling.
A rising tide of fear made his legs feel weak and a pit in his stomach full of nervous butterflies made him feel enervated. It had all seemed such a lark, a way to pick up a little money and spend a couple of weeks lounging around. A couple of weeks that would bring him ever closer to his all important twenty fifth birthday.
‘So should I stay or should I go?’ he asked himself, ‘If I stay there will be trouble...’
The song rattled through his head and somehow made it all look like some sort of television story. Miami Vice or something else dated from the eighties like Magnum. Glamorous smugglers and their innocent, naive but clever dupe.
‘Well they haven’t been caught yet and they don’t even know that my name is anything other than just ‘Henry’,’ he thought as he wondered about bailing out. ‘I’ll just go along for the ride and disappear.’
Then it occurred to him that his passport was in a drawer his cabin, he’d better hide it or keep it with him to make sure...
He made his way to the small cabin and opened the top drawer where he had put the passport, but it was gone. Frantically, and somewhat illogically, he looked around before starting a search of the tiny space.
He opened the second drawer to find the passport safe and sound. He paused as he tried to remember when he had moved it; he had been so sure that it was in the top drawer. He flipped it in the air and slid it into the pocket on his cargo pants.
At that moment he heard the return of his three passengers and he headed to the deck to meet them.
A couple of days passed in a seemingly idyllic setting.
A boat sitting on the azure waters of various lagoons with the palms and beaches of the cays in the background. Frosty Valerie, painted Trudy and silent Steve dived and fished. Sometimes with scuba gear and tanks, sometimes just snorkelling they enjoyed themselves while Henry sat on the deck and watched the boat.
It was starting to look as if Henry’s fears were unfounded.
He was expecting to see them hauling packets of drugs from the sea or some such, but even though he watched every move that they made they only brought up speared fish for their meals.
“We have to be heading back soon,” said Trudy to Henry one evening, “but the weather is perfect and the moon is full so Valerie wants to do a midnight dive tonight.”
“How long will the dive be?” asked Henry, concerned about having to steer the boat at night when he could not follow the divers.
“Just an hour or two.”
Valerie entered the galley and put an arm about Trudy possessively.
“Around here, the coral is perfect,” said Valerie.
“I’m not sure if I should come along,” said Trudy as she held up her hand with the bandage that covered a cut that she had got whilst on the last dive.
“Nonsense,” said Valerie. “That little cut is nothing.”
“Please, it hurts.”
It was the first time that Henry had seen the pair of them argue or act anything other than like the perfect couple. He stayed out of the squabble, not wanting to get involved.
“The conditions are perfect, you really should come.”
There was a moment’s pause and Henry wondered whether Trudy would take the way out or not.
“No, really,” said Trudy as a slight whine entered her voice. “The sea water will make it worse.”
Valerie made a dissatisfied sound and then stared at Henry as if he were the cause of the disagreement. Finally, since he said nothing but continued to beat the eggs and grate the cheese for the evening meal, Valerie gave up and stomped out of the galley and paced the deck.
Henry did not speak to Trudy he just continued making the meal.
“I just hate diving,” said Trudy confidentially to Henry. “I just do it because Valerie says that I have to!”
“Mmm,” replied Henry.
There was no way that he was going to get involved in this spat between lovers, he had decided that all he wanted to do was get off this strange ship of fools and get back to Miami. He would breathe a sigh of relief when it was all over.
That night at eleven the two divers, Steve and Valerie, started to prepare for their adventure. It was clear that Valerie was angry with Trudy as she did not speak to her at all and cast her continuous looks of ill will that spoke volumes.
At last they were in the water and the navigation lights were switched on. The sea, with its soft swell, had an eerie quality, contemplative and flecked with the reflections of the full moon that was almost at zenith.
With two soft splashes, Steve and Valerie were gone and Henry stood in the cockpit looking for signs of the bubble trails from the divers that would give some small indication of their position under the water.
Trudy climbed the couple of steps and stood by him for a while. She seemed nervous, almost frightened as he stood watching the water.
Finally, after thirty minutes or so, she spoke in a soft voice.
Without taking his eyes from the smooth water Henry answered with a small sound.
“We have to go!”
Henry turned to her and saw that she had tears in her eyes and her face was animated by some passion that he could not quite put his finger on.
“Pardon?” he said.
“We have to start the engines and leave, now!”
Her voice carried a quiver of a sob as she continued.
“Valerie! I have to escape her!”
“That’s a bit heavy isn’t it? I mean leaving them in the middle of the Caribbean here, to end a love affair over a small spat?”
“You just don’t understand,” she cried as she tried to reach the starter button. “She’s not my lover, not willingly anyway. She owns me!”
At last Henry took his gaze from the swell and looked at her.
“What do you mean? Owns you?”
For a moment Trudy was so emotionally distressed that she could not speak. Henry put his hands on her shoulders.
“Just leave her in Nassau,” he said. “I mean we get back in a day or so...”
“God! Henry, I cannot just run in Nassau,” sobbed Trudy, “She has my passport and, and everything.”
Henry looked at her and wondered what was going on that he didn’t understand.
“Valerie owns me. That means that I am hers, she bought me from a place in Long Island where they train their victims and then sell them to rich people like Valerie for their amusement.”
Henry had never heard anything like it in his wildest dreams.
“She is the very devil and I have to escape,” said Trudy. “Please help me!”
Henry started to think that Trudy was crazy. This was a preposterous tale that belonged to the script of some cheap film.
“That’s none of my concern,” he said as he turned his gaze back to the water and hoped that this mad woman would just go away and stop spinning fantastic tales.
“You just don’t believe me, do you?”
“No!” he replied in a strong tone. “Speak to her and leave at Nassau, like I said. It’s nothing to do with me!”
There was a moment’s silence before Trudy shook him by the shoulder and said, “We haven’t got much time, I’ll just have to show you the truth and then if what I say is verifiable then you promise to get us out of here?”
Henry looked at his watch. One hour of the dive was done and the tanks held just over two hours of gas for Valerie and Steve. He nodded assent wearily and followed the eager Trudy down into the depths of the cruiser.
She opened the cabin that she and Valerie used to reveal that almost the whole cabin was a bed. Henry squeezed into the small space and shrugged his shoulders. That Trudy and Valerie were addicted to fucking was certainly no surprise.
Trudy threw herself onto the bed and Henry almost cut and ran as he misinterpreted the move as a pass, an invitation of sorts.
“It’s here,” muttered Trudy as she pulled up a corner of the thin mattress and pulled out a box that rattled.
In triumph she opened the box to reveal a selection of sex toys that would have shamed a depraved debauchee. Chains and plastic cocks filled the box as well as other items that Henry could not really identify that looked like jewellery.
He shrugged noncommittally at the tearful Trudy.
All of this was proof that he’d better not get mixed up with these two strange women.
Trudy started to shout at him in a loud voice: “Don’t you see, they want you too. It’s you they want...”
“Pardon, why would an aging dyke lesbian like Valerie want me when she has a cute little thing like you?”
Henry had already turned and was on his way back to the deck when the answer came and stopped him dead.
“For your money!”
He came back to see her tipping the contents of the box onto the bed with a rattle of chains and handcuffs and then she turned to face him.
“I didn’t hear all of it; I only caught part of the conversation...”
Henry was shaking her now. “What conversation?”
“That there was some person, a woman I think, that has asked Valerie to do something with you. I think I heard something about a loan being signed.”
Henry let her go and stared at her.
‘What the fuck is all this?’ he thought with his mind in turmoil.
“Do you owe money?” asked Trudy. “I mean I know that some of the people who were being trained as slaves owed money that they couldn’t pay back.”
“No, I don’t owe money,” he said.
There must be more truth to this than he had thought after all. He thought of that bitch lawyer in Miami and how she had had him followed.
“Well I don’t know why that awful policeman in Nassau pretended to be someone else then!”
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Policeman?”
That ‘Las’ guy, he owes a fortune in the casinos and Valerie was laughing about how cheaply she had bought him.
Henry thought back.
They had met in the Pilot’s office in the docks. No; that was not true they had met outside and then Henry thought of how easily he had been tricked onto the boat.
Another thing occurred to him and he pulled his passport from his pocket and opened it. All the pages were blank!
Every single one.
It had the right cover but it was not his passport, it was nobody’s passport. No wonder that it had been in the wrong drawer!
“We can’t waste time like this,” cried Trudy. “We have to get out of here before they come back.
“I need my passport,” he said as he crashed through the boat and flung open his cabin door.
“It will still be on the bloody boat if we escape,” shouted Trudy. “Find it later but for fuck’s sake get a fucking move on.”
It took a moment before Henry realised that she was keeping her head while he was losing his and he raced for the exit to the deck.
Trudy disappeared out of his sight and then he saw Steve stepping into corridor by the galley!
He was dressed in his wet suit and a knife was in his hand.
For a moment Henry was actually on the point of attacking Steve despite the knife and his physical prowess. Steve made a small movement with his hand and flipped the savage looking knife to face the point away from his thumb so that he was holding it like a dagger and Henry felt his enthusiasm for a fight fade and wither.
As the two stood in a standoff that could only end in Henry surrendering Valerie appeared behind Steve dragging Tanya by the wrist. Valerie in a wet suit was a sight to behold, all curves and overly feminine contour.
With a jerk she flung Tanya to the floor and placed a foot on her neck as if to prove her complete control.
“I think that we caught the two elopers just in time,” said Valerie in a grating voice. “This slave has managed to overcome her training and act independently. I suppose that I will have to claim a refund on goods that do not serve their intended purpose!”
A smile played on Steve’s lips for a moment as the irony of her comment tickled his black sense of humour.
The boat moved as there was a dull thump, another boat had come alongside and there was a call from the deck. Valerie and Steve ignored the voices and continued.
“On the floor bitch,” said Steve.
Henry did not understand that Steve was talking to him and did not move; so that he blow from the left forearm caught him by surprise and laid Henry out on the narrow floor.
“That’s better, bitch,” said Steve as he reached into Valerie’s cabin and recovered a pair of handcuffs. He tossed these to Valerie who cuffed Tanya to a pipe before he did the same for Henry himself.
Valerie padded over to Henry and looked down at him with a smile.
“This was not quite the way that we had it planned, Henry,” she said as she started to unzip the wet suit. “We were going to just make you sign the backdated loan form so that when you got back to the casino you would have a bit of credit. Then, if I understand it right, you would lose your trust fund and so on and I would receive a remuneration that paid for all my expense and hard work in organising this small undertaking. Our plans have changed now that my friend has turned up, so we will have to extemporise now and throw the old strategy away.”
“I will pay you myself if you let me go,” said Henry. “I mean, in six months I get my inheritance and I can pay you.”
“Mmm. An interesting offer, Henry, and one that certainly is worth considering. How much are you willing to give me?”
“Double what you are getting from Crystal, that bitch of a lawyer,” offered Henry.
“I don’t think that Mrs Crystal Veryon, my lawyer as well incidentally, would be very happy with me auctioning my services to the highest bidder. I mean, how little trust there is in the world already and you just lowered the average by a small amount.”
A pair of legs appeared in the gangway entrance to the deck. Low oxfords and stockings first and then Crystal came fully into view. Short skirt and a windcheater jacket she was wearing the usual heavy makeup and her hair was hidden beneath a baseball cap.
By now Valerie had stripped off her wetsuit and stood naked, still dripping with the water that had been trapped inside. To Henry the tableau was outlandish in the extreme.
Though Steve had put the knife away he was standing watching Henry as though he thought he would attempt some act even when he was handcuffed to the boat.
Just behind him was the naked Valerie looking triumphant and enjoying living in the moment of triumph. Her large breasts were without support and hung long almost to her swelling belly. Her sex was naked, naked of clothing and naked of hair.
Dark skin lipped the half parted opening.
“Was this little shit trying to bribe you Valerie?” asked Crystal. “I mean if he offers you money that he hasn’t got yet, he might just think that he does not have to pay you when the bill comes due.”
Valerie laughed at Crystal even taking the whole idea of accepting money from Henry seriously.
So she teased a bit more.
“So, Henry,” she said, “ We are talking about six million dollars here, I mean if you double the three and add my costs then we are talking about six to six and a half million.”
“Yes,” said Henry who felt that he was getting somewhere. “Seven is fine!”
“But that’s half your fortune,” came the reply. “Are you sure?”
Valerie turned to Crystal and smiled.
“That’s a lot for you to compete with, Crystal. Are you prepared to up the bid?”
“No way! We had a deal!”
By now Valerie was creased with mirth, she couldn’t hold it in any longer and doubled up with the repressed laughter.
“Darling Crystal!” she said between gusts of hilarity, “I would not sell you out for the world. What are you thinking? But I’ll tell you what! I’m sick of that little painted shit,” Valerie pointed at Trudy, “so how about you and me? I mean we would make the perfect couple!”
Crystal relaxed visibly. The moment of stress had passed and been just a joke so she took this new offer in good part.
“Valerie, if I liked women I would go for it, but I’ll certainly consider it, you are looking quite ready for a little rough fuck dressed as you are! I’ll just trust you to look after our business and I’ll owe you a favour. Come up on deck and we’ll discuss the details. It’s important business that needs to be done privately.”
The two women went on deck and left Steve with the two captives.
The signing took moments.
On Valerie’s cruiser the scene in the large living room was one of grim formality. Henry sat at the small desk with a pen in his hand while Valerie sat, relaxed by the window, Crystal stood over Henry and pointed to where he should sign.
For a moment the tableau held still as Henry hesitated. He knew that he would sign the loan forms and then he was damned to a life without all the things that all the millions would buy. That flick of the pen would signal the end of his life of gambling and enjoyment of riches.
With Steve standing, watching every movement, there was no option. They had not been explicit but his failure to sign might end with him being tipped into the water of the lagoon.
‘In the end the result was the same,’ he thought. ‘I am as much use dead as alive to that bitch Crystal. One way or another she will have her hands on the trust fund and I will be poorer by millions of dollars.’
So the pen flicked and he performed as he had been told.
Crystal let out a sigh that could have been interpreted as relief, or maybe triumph as she swept the papers up and scrutinised the signature to see that he had not been so foolish as to not use his usual signature.
The documents were slotted into a slim attaché case ready for the bank’s attention and the case was locked into a drawer.
“That’s it than,” said Valerie with a small smile. “Henry will not arrive in Miami for three days, giving you time to get the forms processed and the money placed into his bank account.”
“Sort of ironic really, isn’t it?” asked Crystal as she came to stand next to her victim. “I mean that fact that we pay Henry and that ensures that he loses everything that should be mine anyway.”
Henry looked up at his adversary and thought, ‘She actually thinks that the money is hers. Until five years ago she had never even heard of my aunt Maisy, now she has had the money in her care so long that it has become her right.’
Crystal must have noticed a slight change in his demeanour because a frown came to her face.
Her hand slapped his face sharply, like a mother punishing her child for being rude.
“Henry, from now you are just another failed bum. Just like you always were, but now without the means to support yourself. Be glad that I do not have the inclination to punish you even more for your insolence to me.”
Valerie crossed her legs and wagged a toe at Henry. Her stilettos lay discarded on the plush carpet of the cruiser’s lounge close by her silk cased feet.
“I think that we can finish this little story in several ways Crystal,” she said. “We can just let him go and watch him being sucked down the plughole of life. He’s pretty useless at everything really so he will be living in a dumpster before the year is out. I have a second idea to add to that just in case you decide that Henry might just be a little too credible when he goes to the police.”
Valerie reached into her cleavage and pulled out a small box and opened it.
“Just imagine if he arrived with some cocaine dusted into his clothes and secreted on his person. I think that that would take the wind out of so many of the problems that could arise from his integrity as a witness,” said Valerie.
“There is of course the third way,” said Crystal, “where poor Henry is washed up on a beach in Florida, or better still in the Bahamas, with just enough remaining to identify the remains. How about it Henry? Liking it so far? We just want to plan your future for you; we just want the best for ourselves, after all!”
Henry looked at Crystal and then to Valerie and then hung his head. He knew that they wanted to humiliate him and destroy him. What they wanted as well, was to make him beg and plead with them.
It was in their power...
Valerie laughed, “So many choices, so many variations of those wonderful choices. They all have risks attached to them but I really think that between myself and my lawyer here we can bring them to such a low level that poor little Henry will be the only sufferer.”
Crystal put her hand on Henry’s head in a motherly fashion and said: “Of course it is our duty now to provide for Henry. I mean think of the moral side of the equation. We have impoverished him with our little scheme and it would be wrong of us not to ensure that he was well provided for!”
“What do you think?” asked Valerie of Henry. As she spoke she picked up one of her shoes and looked at it speculatively as if trying to resolve some thought that had occurred to her. “Tell us which choice you would make if you were us! You could be on the streets of Miami in four days, or perhaps with the police as you try to explain all the drugs that you are carrying as a mule. On the other hand the sharks need feeding and you would make good bait for fishing. Then there is the other option, we could care for you, specifically Crystal!”
Henry saw that he could not escape giving an answer. He looked up at Steve who seemed ready to cut his throat at any moment and toss him overboard.
“Please, Mrs Veryon,” he said as he addressed the lawyer that had robbed him of his patrimony. “Please, would you provide for me?”
Crystal felt a thrill of authority tingle her skin, it clenched her insides like a fist and made her feel like a divinity who was dispensing divine justice. Now she could exercise that power and make him beg, the little shit.
“Henry, of course, if that is your choice. I really feel that I could look after your future, that is if you show proper respect for Valerie and myself.”
For a moment he looked up at her face and saw her smiling at him. Not a pleasant smile, more like a victorious, self satisfied grin. He wondered what she meant by ‘respect’ and then Trudy entered his thoughts. Was that what they wanted, these two evil bitches?
He slid of the chair and placed his lips on her smooth red shoes and kissed the feet of the woman who was his betrayer. Then he made his way across to Valerie on all fours and submitted to that lesbian virago by putting her stockinged toes in between his lips.
“Very good, Henry! You are learning an incredibly important lesson well. The lesson is the meaning of the word ‘place’,” said Valerie, “just mind the stockings, they are worth more than you to me and they ladder so easily!”
That was how long that Henry spent chained to his bed waiting for the next phase of his life to resolve. The boats had parted, sending Crystal on her way to Miami to sort out the details of the loan and the effect that it would have on Henry’s trust fund.
Crystal visited the bank and got a trusted and blackmailed employee of the bank to backdate the loan application and the payment of the few thousand into Henry’s account. That sorted out the first part, the second was the investigation that was carried out under the terms of the will that showed that Henry had borrowed money to play in the casino in the Bahamas. That small loan sum was lost in amongst his losings and became part of the story that was being spun from truth and fiction, lies and reality.
A web that could be, should be and would be the whole truth as the law understood it.
Her so called investigation was processed and presented to the probate court of Kendell Miami, where there was no contestation of the infringement of the terms and the probate was closed and sealed. The court date had been set two weeks before as Henry had been in the casino winning and losing a fortune at the craps tables!
Mrs Crystal Veryon became the sole administrator of the trust fund, administrator and soon to be sole benefactor as she would spend the money on expenses and other administrative fees.
The cabin was so small and the bars on the cot were raised and locked to make the cage that had always been there, a pen for a human cargo that would find its way to his new owner.
To the anguish of Henry, Trudy, in the cabin two doors down was treated to the wrath of her lover and owner. Every night he heard the cries that echoed around the hull as Valerie took it on herself to teach her that her special duties as a lover were to be taken seriously.
It seemed to Valerie that the best way to achieve this way would be a three day punishment that would end when Trudy was sent back to Long Island.
Unwilling to damage the tattoo that adorned her fuck slut, Valerie mixed psychological torment with the physical as she discussed what would be done to ensure that Trudy would never betray a mistress or master again. How she would be sold to a new owner who would ruthlessly exploit her and destroy her for the sheer pleasure of asserting brutal authority.
The middle aged woman let her mask slip.
Formerly she had behaved as if Trudy really was her younger lover, really loved her and was devoted from warmth and affection. The tools of this new assault were those from the box under the bed.
Implements intended for pleasure were used to cause pain and distress as the stricken Trudy’s screams echoed around the boat night after night.
Now she had decided that Trudy would never make the grade as a lover and she had determined to sell her and find a new partner, perhaps one that was fully susceptible and like an empty vessel waiting for her mind to be filled by her mistress.
That was the problem for Valerie. She wanted her slaves to be in public view not hidden in some dungeon. She wanted just one faithful, beautiful young woman to serve her every wish without question, but still be a delicious morsel to show to outside view. She was sure that she would find what she was looking for.
It would just cost...
So, at last the cutter, the Phoenix, slipped into Fort Pierce, just one of many pleasure craft that cruised under the watchful eyes of the United States coastguard. At midday the craft nosed into the Fort Inlet and moved at a steady walking pace to her private quay on Indian River Drive. A quay where unloading could take place privately at night without being overlooked by either neighbours or the authorities.
Steve dragged both of the unwilling captives the sort distance to the house and ensured that they were securely ensconced in the cellars of the spread out villa.
Gagged and fettered he carried them almost bodily to their new lives.
The last three months had been a frantic experience for Mrs Crystal Veryon. Normally she was slow and thorough in her work, but the excitement of subverting the trust fund had absorbed her as she invested and plundered the money that had no attendant but her.
Crystal had paid her fees to Valerie in a businesslike fashion as investments and bonds that would mature to be realised as cash. As she had more contact with Valerie she joined that club of secretive people who revelled in absolute control over the lives and bodies of their victims.
She paid two visits to New York which introduced her to the shadowy society of women and men who needed more than just paid service. It was a heady experience finding this new woman inside herself. Crystal had always been a strong person who was not afraid to indulge herself as she willed. Since the death of her husband she had built her business to a little empire that she controlled with obsessive detail.
Boyfriends, she had had a few, but she always obsessed over them. The control that she needed to assert found them leaving Crystal, normally in a few short weeks. She needed the sex, she needed the physical release, in fact she was ravenous, but she was an island that was surrounded by reefs that resisted attachment. Her last relationship had ended when her boyfriend had told her that she was too demanding, too unreasonable and more like a mother and dominatrix than a partner.
So, there was the constant thought of that day when she would assume responsibility for the former owner of that pile of money. That delicious moment when Henry had kissed her shoes did not fade as she thought that it would, it lingered in her thoughts and dreams and every day brought the day of his return closer.
This was what she needed. Total control over her lover. She would be able decide everything. She would be able to experiment without her partner being able to refuse. She would be able to allow her mood to dictate his experience.
Her being stressed at work would result in his punishment.
Her triumphs would be heightened by his subjugation.
The best of it was, she decided, that Henry was a person who she had personally reduced to a chattel. Always resented for the block that he represented on her ambitions he would be the perfect adornment for her idea of servile intimacy.
In her new house in Kendell she paced like a tiger in a cage. Henry had at last been delivered to her clutches and was chained in the cellar. He had not seen his new mistress yet, that pleasure lay before him.
Crystal had planned this moment for all of the last three months but now she was uncertain what would happen when the mistress and her property would meet. In the end she decided to take it as it came, after all this was not just one night of her passion it was the start of a lifetime’s pleasure and gratification, for her.
So she took a crop from the selection that she had bought for this moment and let herself into the stairwell to the cellar through the concealed door in the kitchen.
Her heels clicked as she made her way to the underworld that she had spent a fortune creating. This was her space, the play area that her victim would never leave. Crystal could live her public life without anyone ever being aware of this cave of depravity where she became the goddess of pain and pleasure.
Fifteen steep steps took her into the small room that served as the entrance to hell. Another concealed door took her into a corridor that was lined with doors that were coloured according to the purpose that was concealed behind the bars and steel.
Her evil purposes.
Red for the days when her mood was one where Henry would pay for delaying her becoming wealthy by years. Those would be the days when he would suffer at her hands, feet and cunt. The days when she would take out her ire on his body.
White was for experimentation and training. The satisfaction of that brutal curiosity that she occasionally craved. Henry would come to know that a day or more in the white room would disfigure his mind with her training. He would be attacked by images, sounds and light that would remake him gradually in the image that Crystal desired.
The green door led to a bedroom with no windows. A place where Crystal could indulge her fantasies of love and affection. A bed with fetters for her helpless lover and soft mattress for her body. Stocks and chains for him and pillows of Eiderdown for her. A playroom where the games were ones that she would only ever win.
Now at last her gloved hand was on the handle of the black door. The room where Henry had been placed to await her attention in utter darkness and fear.
The handle opened to reveal a room tiled in black that was barely three feet deep. The room was still locked because a barred gate closed the entrance, a barred gate of which only the bottom two feet opened so that the slave leaving the room had to crawl on his knees to exit.
Crystal looked down on the naked figure of her victim and smiled. Once again she could feel the rising tide of that feeling that had possessed her as Henry had kissed her shoe. Now that there were no other witnesses she could take untrammelled advantage of his service.
As she had requested and paid for, every hair on his body had been removed. He looked up at her, allowing her to see a face that was a container for his fear of her. Strangely smooth with no eyebrows, that face, it no longer entirely resembled the young man that she had known. This one was her creation with metal rings that pierced him and a collar that ensured control with electronic surety.
Her foot passed through the cage to allow her to relive that moment.
His lips placed a kiss on the point of the shoe and Crystal realised that she could experience again this moment every day. She bent into a crouch to smile at him through the bars.
“It’s good to see you again, Henry,” she said as her hand slid over the smooth skin of his head. “I will look after you so well, I promise. Soon you will learn that I am not only strict, but that I will sometimes punish you even when you are perfect. I have everything prepared for our first trip into my fantasies, are you ready?”
She opened the cage door with the remote control and allowed Henry to crawl from the tiny cell. Without casting a look behind her she opened the door to the green room and ushered him in with an expansive gesture as though she were the servant and he was the master.
“On the bed, lover,” she ordered.
Henry did not reply because the power of speech had been taken from him in that terrible place near New York. He moved his lips for a moment as though he was able to reply, but Crystal had mandated a silent lover, her wish had been fulfilled at a little extra cost.
She would whisper sweet nothings while she fucked him but he would bear it all in silence as she wished. ‘What more apposite way of ensuring that he could not complain or disturb her while she enjoyed him than to deprive him of speech,’ she thought. ‘If only I had the power to make all those objectionable men dumb at will!’
His form lay on the bed awaiting her instructions, her orders. So she fixed those arms and legs and started to undress. Carefully she stripped down to stockings and bra noting with approval that Henry was responding well with a huge erection that sprang from his smooth groin to point at the ceiling as it awaited attention.
As she parted company from her lacy knickers she realised that she was so wet with the pent up excitement that drips of lubrication were dribbling down her thighs. Crystal almost kicked off her shoes before she remembered that this was not a lover who would object to her scoring his thighs with her metal heels.
“Are you ready, lover?” she asked of the silent prick with a young man’s body.
Henry nodded as though giving a nod that was really superfluous, was consent to the rape that was to follow.
She climbed over the chains that held her lover until her avid cunt was poised to take him in. Just a small movement and he would be hers, just an opening of thighs and he would be in her.
“When we have finished here we will taste the red room and you will pay a day’s visit to the white room. I promised that you would be looked after and you will have all of my attention as I educate you and then rebuild you.”
As she spoke her thighs opened, her heels dug into his thighs and her pussy slipped onto that cock, that upright tower that slipped into her sheath like a finger through warm butter.
Crystal gasped as he went to the hilt, it filled her and stretched her to what she felt was her limit. It pushed into her so deeply and penetrated to her limit. Her hand slipped to her clitoris as she enjoyed the first lover since her husband who had truly submitted to her will.
The lovemaking in the green room lasted just over an hour. Lovemaking was what Crystal thought of it as; actually she was enjoying raping him, taking without consent.
Crystal felt that Henry had acquitted himself well as he had fucked to her orders, reaming her cunt without climaxing himself. He had given and given with prick and lips without spilling his come. Finally he had kissed her shoes again, the ones that had grazed his thighs as he had performed as he had been trained to do.
The slave was presented on the whipping horse, ready for his punishment. Chastisement for no noticeable offence, penalty with no misdemeanour having been committed.
Henry’s only crime was that he was Crystal’s to do with as she wished.
Crystal looked over the weapons at her disposal and showed them one by one to her victim. Finally she noticed a tear form in his eye and run down his cheek to slither silently down his smooth chest and into the crack that was formed by the skin of his thighs and hanging balls.
She decided that he had chosen the vicious crop and bent to kiss the back of his neck.
“This is for your own good,” she told him. “I expect perfect service, anticipation of my needs and all done in good grace without hesitation. Do you understand? I have so much to teach you and I will be so happy when at last you can become the perfect slave, the fuck doll that I need for my ravenous cunt.”
She stepped back and placed a light blow across the base of his ass, just an opening shot over the bows. She noted that his prick stood out as it had for an hour now so she went to grip it in her hand and gave him three strokes.
“Every stroke of the cane earns you three strokes of my hand. If you come before I allow you to you will regret it.”
Once more she pulled a stroke from the air and placed it just above the last one. Her hand closed on him and pulled at that huge cock thrice, firmly.
And so it went until Crystal had placed nine strokes and given him twenty seven with her hand. She went to his ear and whispered.
“Do you want to come, lover?”
He stayed stock still and made no move.
“Very good! You have learned the first lesson well. Never ask, request or even beg for release. That is under my control. I decide and I do not need or wish for your input!”
Her hand strayed between his legs and stated to wank him.
“You will come when I tell you to and no other time, If you can manage this little thing to please me then I will reward you.”
All the while her hand moved up and down, bumping his balls and pulling him, stretching, gripping and controlling.
Her other hand moved over the supple and soft skin under his balls, seeking that spot where a little pressure closes all chance of ejaculation.
When she found it she pressed upward and ordered him to climax.
Henry pushed against the frame that held him at forty-five degrees and allowed himself to fall over the edge of that cliff into the unknown. It was so much better here than at the Farm where he had been sent by his new owner. The whipping had been terrible when a real infraction of the rules had been committed. The control that they had taught him allowed him to fulfil her wishes and he came in a rush.
Nothing exited the single closed eye of his prick. No drop of milky white left his body as she blocked its path.
‘This was pure pleasure,’ she thought as she watched his puzzled face. Even when she allowed him to climax she could ruin the orgasm and increase the level of his frustration at will.
As she found her feet she could invent a dozen new torments and find the limits of mishandling that he could cope with. Crystal would drive those limits up and up as she learned their limits.
The white room; a bathroom was the place where she could wash his body as well as his mind. Crystal chained his wrist rings to the steel loop on the wall and then slid it up with a touch of the remote to hang him from his wrists, just resting on the tips of his toes.
She left him there, hanging as the films started to roll.
With a clang the door closed and Henry was alone with in the shadowless room that would now claim him for hours.
Sound and light would bombard him mercilessly.
In a week or two Crystal would have the first film of Henry ready to be shown and he would have to suffer his former treatment as a pornographic overload. She would create films that hopped and skipped as they showed him being degraded until his mind was filled and overwhelmed by those thoughts.
The sound would go up and down in volume. It would not always be synchronised, the show would go on, and on, and on...
All the while she would be in bed asleep after a long sensuous bath and a slow self pleasing as she imagined his suffering. Her hand ploughing herself with slow sensuous movements as she contemplated all that suffering that was so agreeable, so pleasing and such a release from a long days work. Then at last she would turn over and go to sleep.
Sometimes on her own bed sometimes in the green room with her helpless Henry by her side. Then when she slept she would dream and cast her arm over his bound and silent form as if he was her lover and she needed the comfort of his presence.
Her days would be spent working and improving her tennis. She would store up the stresses and trials of the days spent in the office meetings and courts of Miami and then return to vent them on that fuck doll that she kept in the cellar.
It was the love life that she had always wanted. A young man at her beck and call, ready to serve her as she willed and always available even if not always willing.
So, whilst Mrs Crystal Veryon improved her tennis, went to parties and amazed everyone with her wit and charm, the white room scratched Henrys brain. Its bent needle scored his mind like a damaged long player record until he forgot his name and past.
He just had one purpose left. One goal and one need. He had to serve his goddess of pain and pleasure.
That her pleasure might not be worth it never crossed Mrs Crystal Veryon’s mind.
She was worth it!
This tale is an ADULT experience. It contains strong sexual content that is not at all suitable for minors.
Miss Irene Clearmont.
This story can be read separately, or be regarded as a continuation of ‘Phoenix Rising’. Be aware that there are spoilers here for ‘Phoenix Rising’ and that you may wish, therefore, to read that story before you tuck into this one…
As you wish, it’s your experience not mine…
Copyright © 2012 (Feb) Miss Irene Clearmont
CRYSTAL A job with prospects.
CRACKED CRYSTAL A service with no prospects.
LEAD CRYSTAL The solution: A city break.
CRYSTAL METH Homecoming: Not like home!
CRYSTALLISED Planned service.
CRYSTAL HEALING Rescue.
CRYSTAL MAZE Police and planning.
CRYSTAL HARD. (Pt 1.) Finding Jimmy.
CRYSTAL HARD. (Pt 2.) Petals unfolded.
LIKE UNTO CRYSTAL Kidnap of a rapist.
CUT CRYSTAL Discussion over method.
CRYSTAL TIPPED Final fuck.
CRYSTAL LOVE A career in the movies.
Women do most delight in revenge. Sir Thomas Browne
Sweet is revenge. Especially to women. Lord Byron
Where vice is, vengeance follows. Scottish Proverb
The office was plush and reflected the opinion that the woman who occupied it had of herself. Wood panelling, copies of old masters done in oil and a desk that dominated the room like a brooding oaken cube.
Mrs Crystal Veryon, the owner of that plush office, dressed in the same fastidious way that she had decorated her office. With an eye to the prejudices of her rich clients she was always formal, but also stylish in the way that only money can define. The stockings were silk and imported from Hong Kong, the shoes were spiked with five inch heels and were made for her in London to measure. Her tweed suits spoke of serious money while remaining subdued and prim.
Since acquiring considerable sums by running a most particular trust fund she made it her specialised business to make wills and testaments, run offshore trust funds and act as a legal adviser when her clients came into conflict with that all pervasive government arm, the IRS.
Over the last year or two, the actual amount of work that she had been doing had declined, to the point where her social calendar, hobbies and her tennis amounted to the greater part of her life. What was new was that instead of a new client bringing thousands of dollars in fees to the table, they were bringing in ten times that amount.
Of course there was Sarah in the outer office. All that work required a fine sense of decorum, which Sarah had in spades. There was no doubt that she did an excellent job relaxing nervous clients, preparing documents and all the other jobs that needed doing prior to Crystal interviewing the clients.
The problem was that Sarah was getting married. Actually that was not the difficulty, it was the fact that she would be moving from Fort Pierce to Miami that was the crux of the matter!
A timid knock at the door.
‘Not really a good sign,’ thought Crystal as she called “Enter!” in a firm voice.
The young woman who entered the room was dressed in a cotton summer frock and ballet style shoes. In the opinion of the rather severe Crystal, this interview was not off to a good start.
“Please sit down,” said Crystal, waving her hand at the easy chair that faced her desk.
“Thank you, Miss,” said the young woman as she settled into the chair with considerable grace.
Millicent was the third on the list to be interviewed and despite her rather casual dress she was an improvement on the gum chewing slut and the eighteen year old child that Crystal had had the displeasure of interviewing. In fact there was something indefinably erotic about the young woman who sat quietly, waiting for Crystal to begin the interrogation.
The interview started with the usual questions about experience as a legal secretary which Millicent answered with aplomb. After a few minutes it was clear that she not only had the requisite experience, but also some knowledge of Crystal’s practice.
Crystal adjusted herself to the idea of offering Millicent the job.
“Of course it would be on a probationary basis,” she said as she smiled at Millicent. “Three months to see if you are suitable and a permanent post if all goes well.”
“I expected no less,” replied Millicent. “With just one extra pair of hands in this office you need to find the correct person.”
“I still have two other people to see, so it will be a couple of days before I can give you a definite answer.”
Millicent stood and glanced out of the window into the street below. For a moment the sun shone through her dress allowing Crystal to see her generous figure as a dark shadow beneath the thin cotton.
“You have my number,” said Millicent as she turned back to face Crystal.
She noticed the scrutinising look and held out her hand.
“I am impressed,” said Crystal.
A small shiver passed through her like an electric shock. Millicent was certainly attractive. For a moment her thoughts wandered and she speculated about Millicent’s private life.
“Are you married?”
“I have a boyfriend. Going steady might be the right description.”
“Occasionally you might have to be present for social meetings with clients which may go well into the evenings.”
“That’s fine,” replied Millicent. “Knowing the clients intimately is important in a job like this.”
Crystal was not quite sure if she had heard the stress on ‘intimately’, but there was no doubt that this young woman was ideal for her office.
‘I wonder what she would think if she knew about my little hobby,’ she thought to herself. ‘I would love to take her to the Green Room and interview her thoroughly!’
Another firm handshake and Millicent was leaving.
The other two interviews had not gone so well. Both candidates rated as poor on the legal knowledge, but the second had scored well on attractiveness.
‘Still,’ thought Crystal to herself as she drove home to her mansion by the still waters of the lagoon. ‘Millicent might be ideal but, I am sure that there is something questionable about her. Too perfect to be living in Fort Pierce by half!’
She pulled in to the long driveway and allowed the car to roll to the covered area before the house. Something had tweaked her finely tuned sense of empathy.
Taking her case she entered the house by the wide front door. Emilia, the maid and cook was just pulling her coat on and preparing to leave. In her forties and bustlingly efficient she nodded at her employer and made a comment.
“You are looking well this evening Mrs Veryon,” she said. “I left a note for you but a few words will suffice. I have prepared a goulash and salad for you, the salad is in the fridge. I have covered all tomorrow’s chores as well as todays’, because tomorrow is my son’s birthday and I will not be here. I also wanted to remind you that my holiday starts in a month so if there was anything special that has to be done before then…”
Crystal nodded and slipped off her long coat. “That’s fine Emilia, wish your son a happy birthday from me.”
From her pocket she produced a small packet and presented it with a smile to her maid.
“This is for him,” she said, “and I will see you the day after tomorrow so that we can discuss your holiday.”
Emilia thanked Crystal and left the house, locking the door behind her.
As she headed for the kitchen she noted the pan gently bubbling on the stove and smiled. Sometimes it seemed as if Emilia was behaving like a mother who was worried that her child was all alone. At other times she scolded her employer for not finding a man to replace the useless husband who had died a few years ago.
If only… If only Emilia knew what the secret of Crystal’s love life was!
Because Crystal had a special lover who lived with her.
A man who was truly hers; only for Crystal.
A man that she had purchased.
A man that she possessed.
An unwilling man.
Tonight he would be hers in the Green Room. A lover who was so attentive to his mistress’ orders and needs! She would play with him there and then later decide if the colour of his luck was red or white or just plain black.
There had been a time when Henry had been the most self-willed and difficult of all the legal problems that she had had. Now he was just a doll who submitted to her demands before they were even given voice. She had tricked him and bought him from her acquaintance, Valerie when they had both cheated him of his trust fund.
Crystal felt a surge of delicious dominance surge through her veins as she opened the small door to the cellar and descended the steps in a slow cadence of those little clicks as the heel touches the tile. She could feel a swelling in the lips of her pussy as she contemplated her menu for tonight.
Red before green?
Black or perhaps white last of all?
Each colour was a separate room in her little private hell. Each room had a different meaning. White, the colour of indoctrination, cleansing and mental anguish. Red the colour of pain, raw and deep. Green the colour of service and abasement. Black the hole where the slave waited without distraction. Immersed in his own fears.
Devoid of all stimulus.
As Crystal slid the wine rack aside she wondered how she had managed to put up with all that sexual molestation and unrequited passion in the days before she had met Valerie. Valueless husband, octopus handed boyfriends, leering men and self-willed males had all played their part in making the attractive Crystal allergic to sexual contact.
Then she had met Valerie. Rich and demanding. Bitch and owner.
The woman with a girlfriend who was not only unwilling, but a chattel. A woman who possessed people like others bought a car or a new television. She had promised Crystal nights of sensation, nights of gratification and a swelling thrill of owning another human being, fully, without compromise.
The metal door opened, a cell door, a prison door that led to a place where Crystal was a goddess, a queen, a mistress and a deity that administered pain and favour at her whim.
Slowly she walked down the tiled corridor.
As she went she could feel a sway come to her hips and a trickle of the juice of her passion trickle to her stocking tops. She faced the four doors and enjoyed their import…
Henry was behind Black.
Her slave was waiting in the dark. Surrounded by soft walls, chained to the ceiling, ready for her attention.
As always, when she released him from Black, he was grateful for the contact. The stimulus took the nightmare away and gave him a momentary contact that was almost treasured.
Tonight she looked so business-like. Heels, of course, but a long skirt that concealed thighs and knees. A jacket that covered a blouse that laced tight to hide those magic breasts. Hands covered in sparkling jewellery that had been bought from the trust fund that she had stolen from him.
He bowed his head and awaited the most important decision of the night!
Green or Red?
It was so rare that she pulled him from his slumber to go into the scratchy hell of White.
She led him to Red and his heart fell and the fear swelled in his breast. She was going to punish him, or rather torture him tonight. She always had her most violent climaxes when she made him suffer in Red. Green was more passionate and White was an almost detached orgasm that left her thighs trembling for hours.
Then her hand reached out and she led him to Green.
He breathed again, his mistress was in search of pleasure-pure tonight, and if he served as she willed he might get to sleep at the foot of, or even in her wide bed tonight. Or maybe in the tight cage at her feet…
The room was touched by romantic and boudoir atmosphere. Pictures of pre-Raphaelite women hung on the walls amidst lavish silken hangings. A huge bed, a field of sexual glory, filled the room and velvet concealed the cupboards where the toys that gave Crystal so much pleasure were housed. A dark green carpet so thick that toes sunk into its luxurious surface swept from one wall to the other. The only feature that was missing were any windows, the only indicator that the room was deep underground and was part of the prison in which Crystal kept her sexual slave.
Crystal turned to admire her creation, the man who served her lust unwillingly, the slave who cringed at her touch, but could not but serve her every debased and perverted need to dominate.
The collar that was the method, by which he was controlled, shone on his naked flesh, the cage that confined his prick. They were his only adornment. Crystal only allowed Henry to wear mechanisms of control and restriction.
“Wait,” she said.
The word hung in the quiet room like a symbol of her power as she decided what route she was going to take to find gratification tonight.
As Henry stood in anticipation and fear, Crystal noted that the dread that made her sex slut shake and tremble did not stop that prick of his straining in its cage. Despite the knowledge that he would be used he could not help but pant in hope that tonight she would allow him to garner some small pleasure.
The hood that she chose was black and tight. It covered his features with a shiny, creaseless surface that reduced him to a doll like anonymity. Satisfied that it looked perfect she admired the effect of the painted eyes that opened in startled shock and the red lips that now begged to be kissed, used or abused. Abused was best. As she chose more items from her collection she could feel the tension rise.
In many ways this was one of the times that she enjoyed the most. The preparation, the anticipation, the knowledge that it was she, Crystal who chose the pain to inflict and the pleasure to receive.
Tonight Henry would be fucking her; tonight he would be on the brink of a chasm as she fell into an abyss of gratification pure.
The dildo, hollow and covered with stipples and small holes allowed Henry to breathe as she fitted it over his gaping ruby red lips. It merged into the mask to become an obscene limb that poked from his smoothed features. As he breathed she could hear the breath whistle through those breathing holes, but she resisted the temptation to clasp her hand over them and make him suffer. Not yet. Not yet! Crystal even owned her slave’s breath!
That was to come, but it would not be her hand that would choke him, but the slick cunt that even now was yearning to be filled to the hilt. She led him to the bed, the field of play and pushed him to fall, face up. The man with two pricks lay and awaited his fate. One prick was caged and impotent the other sprang, lewd and permanently erect from his face.
Crystal sighed with lust and expectation.
Something was missing! A frisson of resistance from her slave. He was so passive, a tool for her use that had been broken and rendered less attractive by its very passivity.
As she mounted the man who had become nothing more than an object, she slipped aside her panties, slid up her skirt and lined up his black prick. Slowly she sucked it in and was gratified to hear him struggle for breath as she took her pleasure. The air shrilled through the holes as they were closed one by one by her flesh. His chest laboured and his other cock lost its struggle to become erect in its little cage.
As she felt the nubbin at the base of the dildo brush her clitoris she climaxed. Crystal slid up and down on Henry’s face enjoying the physical intrusion into her body. But, the mental joy of superiority over her sex toy was gone in a single moment of realisation.
The best had faded.
Henry was, at last fully destroyed. The last vestiges of independent thought had faded to be replaced by passive acceptance. Instinctively Crystal knew that by creating the perfect sexual pleasure slave she had defeated her own purpose and lost the excitement of all that fear that she had inspired in the young man that she had spent the last year victimising.
Crystal had discovered a truth…
That it was the fear and anguish, the pain and resistance, the agony and false hope that had given the high. Now, all that was left was a hollow shell of a slave.
Total compliance was no diversion for her.
Henry might as well have been made of plastic.
She needed fresh meat, a new start. Crystal went through the motions with passion. She sucked one climax after the other from her doll. But that’s all it was; going through the motions.
‘You can have all the money you like, but it is the exercise of power and domination that truly turns me on,’ thought Crystal as she sat at her desk and flicked idly through one of the venture capital brochures that were sent by investment funds that sought to get her to choose them. ‘That only works if my victim and lover is compelled to serve!’
Henry was burned out, that was the problem!
She had put him back into the Black Room and left him there. There was no point in using the White Room because he was no longer influenced by anything that she could do.
He was beyond her reach!
Of course she could try to reawaken the fear, but she sensed that he had retreated to a place where her power over him would never penetrate. In one sense he had won the battle, in another sense, Crystal had overachieved her aims.
She was bored.
It had been a week now since the revelation in the Green Room. Crystal had fed and watered Henry, but she no longer wanted to use him. Now he was nothing but a burden, a weight on her mind, a doubt in her heart.
With a sigh she laid down the glossy brochure and stared at the cover pictures of vast houses in Hollywood that she had the opportunity to invest in.
‘I need a new project. A new slave. Something that is challenging, stimulating and requires planning and cunning…’ she thought as her mind wandered over various possibilities. ‘Excitement!’
It was clear now that she needed to dispose of Henry first. Then would come the next step. The capture and enjoyment of new blood. Now there was an interesting thought. ‘Was it a male or a female slave that she would own next?’
There was no way that Crystal was going to admit that she was addicted to sex and dominance like a junkie on crack. She was just going to go to get her next fix after throwing away the last needle used.
She reached for the speakerphone and had a word with Millicent:
“Take the rest of the day off! I have a private meeting to attend to in New York. I will be flying back the day after tomorrow. So consider the time paid, but you will be alone tomorrow so you will able to tidy up the office properly ready for my return on Wednesday.”
Millicent popped her head around the door for a moment.
“Thanks Mrs Veryon, have a good trip.”
Crystal looked up and smiled.
Millicent so attractive!
Millicent had her probation under her belt now and was proving to be a very efficient secretary and helper. Of course she was well paid. It would have been so beneath Crystal to have a cheap worker on the payroll!
As she drove home she wondered if tonight was the night to propose to Kenny that they get married? The job was stable, Kenny had beaten his meth addiction, the debts had been paid and the future looked rosy.
Crystal would have thought twice about giving Millicent the job had she known about the seedy private life of the beautiful young woman!
But, Millicent was very guarded and kept all her problems from her employer with great care. Never a word was allowed to slip about Kenny and his layabout friends. The debts that followed in the wake of an addict almost drowned Millicent, but the job from Crystal had saved her.
The car journey always took twenty five minutes and was a time when Millicent could relax and chill in the car. Then when she got home the small battles would begin with Kenny! Months ago it had been so much worse than now. Now, the arguments were over details; before, they had almost come to blows so often that Millicent had run away from Kenny.
As she pulled up at the small supermarket that they lived over, her heart fell to see the dilapidated pickup of Jimmy, one of Kenny’s old mates from years ago.
‘Shit, that’s all I need,’ she thought as she climbed the metal stairs to the apartment. ‘Fucking Jimmy in my flat!’
Sure enough Kenny and Jimmy were slouched on the sofa with the television blaring at full blast. Millicent took in the scene with disgust as she saw what was showing on the screen.
Of the very crudest kind.
A tattooed woman who was being fucked at both ends by a pair of older men who could barely maintain their hard-ons. She moaned in synthetic orgasm as a tumble of electronic music slurred from the television.
“See how a real slut fucks,” was Jimmy’s greeting as he lifted a hand in acknowledgement of her presence. “Skull fucking, always was my favourite, care to give it a try?”
“I wouldn’t touch you with her cunt,” said Millicent in clipped tones as she strode to the television and pulled the plug from the wall just as the ‘money shots’ commenced.
“I told you that Millie would get aggravated,” said Jimmy to Kenny. “Get rid of the slut for the night and we’ll go and fuck some real women!”
Kenny started to laugh at Jimmy’s comment as though it was the funniest thing he had heard.
“Millie is always angry and telling me what to do…” he said.
“You stupid cunt,” said Millicent in a high voice. “This wanker has got you all stoked up on vodka and meth; and you tell me where to get off? I have a good mind to leave you to rot here, you fucker!”
“So you don’t want a little fuck up the ass after all then?” said Jimmy.
Kenny was in tears of laughter.
“Millie does not fuck up the ass, she sucks and fucks, but I’m not allowed to go there!” said Kenny in between coughing and laughing. “Millie ‘makes love’ she never fucks…”
Millicent stood nonplussed. On the drive here she had been dreaming romantic dreams that now foundered on the rocks of reality. Kenny would never escape morons like Jimmy who would suck him in and spit him out like the fuckwad that he was. Vodka and angel dust…
She felt a single tear teeter in her eye before it broke free and trickled down her cheek.
Jimmy struggled to his feet and made as if to hug Millicent. She stepped back and pulled a face.
“The cute little bitch is crying, can I have her now?” he asked Kenny. “You promised that I could have the little ho tonight and now she is trying to escape!”
“Don’t you dare touch me Jimmy, I’d rather cut your cock off with a rusty knife than allow you to touch me!”
The phrase took far too long to say...
Kenny, high on meth, was behind her blocking her fast exit. His hand brushed her shoulder and then took a fist full of her thin dress.
Jimmy closed in and cupped her breasts in his palm as Kenny tore the dress off her back in one swift motion to leave her standing in bra and pants.
“Nice tits, fucking tasty cow with big udders,” said Jimmy. “Like!”
Kenny started to laugh again. Everything that Jimmy said was funny to him in the state that he was in. Suddenly he was Jimmy’s mate again. The world was set to rights and Millicent was available for both of them, whether she liked it or not.
He grabbed her wrists and pulled them up her back sharply allowing Jimmy to rip bra and panties off with no problem.
“The bitch is smooth as a bottle,” said Jimmy as he slid a hand between her waxed thighs. “But dry as a bone. Maybe she doesn’t like to be fucked by two real men?”
Millicent started to scream, but it was cut short as Jimmy punched her face brutally and then slapped her with the back of his other hand. It was like slow motion to Millicent.
She saw the erection that his jeans contained.
She saw him pull a flick knife from his pocket.
She felt her arms being pulled up her back by her boyfriend as he offered her to this beast.
A hand brutally opened her pussy while the other held the blade to her face as if he was going to carve her cheek with the razor sharp blade.
It took just a minute to stuff her mouth with her panties and bind her arms up to her neck so that she was ready to be fucked by the two drug filled fiends who were going to rape her.
Jimmy knocked her onto the sofa and kicked her in the ribs.
“Ken, d’you want ass or that cunt?”
“I’ve had the cunt before, I’ll go for the tight entrance.”
Jimmy took a swig of his beer and then poured the rest over the stricken Millicent.
“That’ll grease you up a bit, bitch!” he said as he poured the last of the foam over her slit. “I’ll fuck her and then you can have what’s left over, Ken.”
When she began to kick he ran the blade of the knife across her breast bringing up a thin line of red from nipple to nipple.
“I’ll cut your udders off, ho, if you do that again,” he laughed as he struggled to get his jeans off revealing a fierce erection that sprang from his groin like a truncheon. “Open wide bitch, here I come!”
The prick approached and Millicent opened her legs. She could feel the beer in her pussy, the blood on her chest and the prick rammed home to the hilt.
Jimmy’s idea of a good fuck was a sudden plunge, a vigorous rhythm, a short sharp fuck that tore at her insides. Millicent tried to relax to make it easier, but all she could see was Kenny pulling off his trousers to reveal his half erect cock.
The invading prick withdrew just before Jimmy came so that he could spray her face with his cock. As she was flipped on the sofa to allow Kenny her ass, she felt the warm, sticky goo coursing over her face and invading her lips.
“Taste it and become addicted to my come!” laughed Jimmy as he slapped her and held her legs wide to reveal her ass hole, the target of Kenny’s hardening prick. “I should have gone for her ass, Ken, Maybe I’ll have it after you.”
Kenny started to laugh again; Jimmy was more than amusing he was a veritable fount of wisdom and clever comments. Overcome by the meth that was in his system and the alcohol swilling through his cerebellum he felt alert as never before to every subtlety of his experience.
He lined up his prick and took the plunge…
The next two hours were an abyss of agony and humiliation for Millicent as the two addicts took more meth and more beer on top of it. Jimmy led the brutality. Control, it was all about having godlike power over Kenny and Millicent. He was like a hyperactive film director that led his cast through the hoops of a complex script.
But, at last, the assault was over. For now…
The two men tied Millicent to the toilet bowl in the bathroom and slept on the sofas in sheer exhaustion. They had lived Jimmy’s dream for three hours, fucked Millicent every which way, filled every hole with their cocks and then Jimmy had beaten her for trying to resist.
Naked and vulnerable on the floor he had kicked her with Kenny’s encouragement, for not begging to be fucked again. The final humiliation was when he pissed over her bruises, directing the stream into her spluttering face to howls of laughter from Kenny.
They slept all night.
It was when Kenny staggered to the bathroom to see Millicent bound tight to the toilet that he started, in his hangover, to realise that the events of last night had not been a crazy dream.
He stood looking down at the girl who had supported him all of the last year. The woman who had hoped to marry him. The woman that had had romantic dreams that were now extinguished in a stream of piss.
He bent to undo the knots.
To release her.
At that moment Jimmy staggered into the bathroom. He slurred a few words and bent over Millicent to be violently sick into the toilet. Millicent pleaded to Kenny with her eyes; her mouth was gagged with a belt.
“Fucking great night,” laughed Jimmy as he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “Let’s get some more meth and we can do it all again. It’s always better second time around…”
Kenny stood and looked from Millicent to Jimmy.
This was the moment when he would make his choice and all three of the participants of the drama realised that the choice was Kenny’s. If he decided to release Millicent, Jimmy would not be able to stop him. If he decided for Jimmy then his former girlfriend was doomed to days of intense abuse.
Jimmy was a man who had no qualms leaving a body in the woods…
“What a hangover,” said Kenny. “Hair of the dog. Let’s get some more of that bitchin’ meth and a couple of bottles. It’s time that this slut here,” he looked down at the bruised body of Millicent, “got used to real hard fucking!”
Kenny had decided.
Millicent’s eyes filled with tears.
Jimmy smiled at this victory. Kenny was now his. He owned him.
“I know where we can get some money,” said Kenny as he slipped back completely into his feral self. “That fuckin’ bitch of a lawyer that our slut works for is sure to have loads of cash in her office or house!”
A parting slap and kick from Jimmy was all the goodbye that they gave their sex slave as they grabbed her keys and left the house laughing and arguing whether the office or the house was going to yield the most cash for their next binge.
Crystal arranged everything before she took the plane to New York.
A van picked up her useless slave, Henry, and at last, after years, he was out of her life. At first he had been the main correspondent for his Aunt Maisy’s trust fund. Gradually she had seen the money as hers and she had schemed to make him break the conditions that his aunt had laid on the fund.
But, Henry had resisted the temptations.
So Crystal had resorted to simply forcing Henry to sign a release and, to cover her tracks, she had enslaved him for her own pleasure and gratification. Now he was used up. Depleted and emptied of resistance. So she passed him on to Valerie, the woman who had helped her entrap him in the first place.
Who knew where he would go?
Perhaps he would find a caring owner, perhaps he would not. Crystal did not really care, that phase was over.
Now she needed to find a new victim.
One that would resist.
One that would try to engage in futile escape as she refined her pleasures and approach to having a slave. A slave that would cry and weep for her.
As she sat on the plane, idly flicking through the inflight magazine thought about the day that she had spent on Long Island! Once before she had been there to meet the women who offered a service that rendered men to chattels. Now she had returned and was flying home without having resolved her problem at all!
None of the slaves that they had had on offer had turned her on. As she looked out of the window at the distant checkerboard landscape below, she realised that she needed something special. Very special.
She needed a slave that was more than a bought man.
Crystal needed to know her slave.
Intimately and personally!
Crystal needed to know how far he or she had fallen. She wanted to use a former relationship to squeeze the pleasure out of the service. To make every little submission, every lick of her cunt, every painful interlude heightened by the contrast.
She wanted to look down and see a person that she knew bring her to climax in pain and servitude.
Like all of the problems in her life, Crystal considered her options.
Mentally she listed all those people that she knew and considered each in turn as a candidate for slavery. She considered the advantages and disadvantages of each with a small frisson of illicit pleasure.
There were her tennis friends and their husbands.
Mostly rich and successful, living in the lap of luxury and high society. They would fall so far when she brought them to her prison boudoir. Perhaps she should capture a couple. That would be so sweet as they watched her destroy their partners before their eyes!
The thought made her sex throb with lust. She could feel friction vanish as lubrication flowed and soaked the silk panties that cosseted her cunt. Just the thought of Jeanette and Wilbur as slaves made her nipples stand and her breathing become heavy.
Of course it would not be easy to add them to a coffle. The police tended to investigate the disappearance of the rich most thoroughly. Perhaps she should aim a little lower.
Her thoughts came to Millicent and Emilia!
Women as slave sluts!
Emilia, she dismissed with a shrug. She was not attractive enough for Crystal. What was the point of destroying a plain person? It was the breaking of something precious that brought the satisfaction of vandalising a person. Millicent on the other hand? She was attractive, quiet and a real diamond in the rough.
An ideal victim.
She would be ideal for Crystal to subjugate.
Perhaps it was time to taste a little Sapphic love? To crush the spirit of another woman. To penetrate and slowly distort her character until she became a bed toy.
‘It will be an interesting experience,’ she thought as she allowed her hand to stray to her lap. She was making up her mind. The fantasy was heading for reality.
The man next to her slept on as Crystal slowly frigged herself to a quiet climax as she considered the idea of having a woman lapping her cunt. Cleaning her ass with her tongue. Pampering her body before suffering torment at her hands.
A woman could be remodelled. Decorated and gradually spoiled before finally being disposed of, for a new challenge.
‘Yes,’ she decided as she climaxed and then risked slipping her hand to push into the hungry maw that lay between her legs. The gash that would soon have a personal slave. The slit that might determine the fate of another woman.
The next challenge was Millicent!
The next orgasm followed…
The call to her mobile in the taxi as she returned from West Palm Beach Airport to her house in Fort Pierce. The delicious thoughts of a Millicent serving her body were still coursing through her mind as she took the call.
Those delicious thoughts stopped in their tracks as the policeman on the phone explained that there had been a break in at her office, and would she please come to the scene to meet the officer in charge of the case?
When she arrived the blue lights had stopped flashing, just one uniformed officer stood by the door and a small crowd stood, aimlessly chatting to the radio reporter who was hoping that she could find at least one person who knew what was going on.
Crystal stepped out of the taxi.
Her legs were not long, but the heels were.
The radio reporter tried to interview her but Crystal pushed past her insistent querulous questions and spoke to the uniformed policeman guarding the door.
Showing her driving licence as ID, Crystal was ushered upstairs to her ravaged office.
“I’m Detective Charmont,” said the man as he showed her his badge with a flourish. “We were called here an hour ago when a witness noticed that the door to the street was open. I’m afraid that your office has been burgled and we need to know what is missing…”
He paused to let her take in the scene of utter chaos that had been wrought on the carefully tended office. Crystal breathed in slowly as she saw that every picture on the walls had been smashed to the floor. That the drawers of her desk lay smashed and forced by all that broken glass.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Veryon, but they seem to have been interested in cash! Did you have a float or any large sums on the premises?”
Her eyes took in the mess, the shit smeared on the walls and her nose detected the smell of stale piss.
“I have a safe. Then there is the petty cash…” she said as she noticed the small tin box that lay broken on the floor. “Perhaps five hundred in the cash box there,” she said. “Mostly small bills.”
“Mostly important documents, client’s accounts, about ten thousand in cash and papers for the trust funds that I administer.”
Crystal went to a wall cabinet that had had the doors ripped off. She looked up at the officer and smiled with relief.
“Here,” she said as she slid the cabinet to the side to reveal the plain door of a safe set in the wall. “Looks untouched.”
“Would you mind confirming that for me?”
Crystal took a deep breath. The safe contained all the papers from Henry’s trust fund and evidence of her money transfers.
“Certainly, anything to cooperate.”
She dialled a code on the door of the safe and swung the door open to reveal the one place in the office that had not been touched by the thieves. A neat stack of papers, a single banded block of one hundred dollar bills and two small locked boxes that contained the evidence of her having robbed and enslaved a man. Robbed, enslaved and raped.
“Untouched?” he asked.
“Good. Then reseal the safe and we will take you home after a general question. The first of which is; who has the keys to your office, because the door was not forced?”
“No one,” she lied as she thought of Millicent. “I have a great number of sensitive documents here. At the moment I do not even have a secretary!”
Why had she lied? Crystal was not sure, but it was instinct. There was no way that she wanted Millicent involved in an investigation. Not when Crystal had so much planned for that luscious body!
“We will need you to come to the station house tomorrow and make a statement. What time would be suitable?”
“In the afternoon at three?”
“Fine, I’ll see you then. The crime scene will be secure until then as I am leaving an officer here so you cannot start the clean-up until forensics have passed through tomorrow.”
Refusing a ride from the police, Crystal called a taxi and started on the journey home. After about five minutes of driving she pulled out her phone and checked Millicent’s address.
There was a moment’s thought and she told the driver to take her there. Crystal had never been to Millicent’s house before, but now she had a sudden curious impulse. Just a few hours ago she had been pondering how she was going to capture Millicent for her own deviant use. Now she just wanted to see where she lived.
It was the raw start of her plan…
The taxi pulled up at a small row of shops and a supermarket. Crystal gave the driver a fifty to wait for her and went for a little explore. As she had suspected she found steps to the second floor in the car park at the back of the supermarket.
This was where her future slave slut lived!
Crystal pulled her fur coat around her shoulders against the cold and slowly ascended the stairs to be faced by a glass door. Obviously there was no one home, all the lights were off.
She pressed the buzzer and waited, but there was no answering approach from within. About to turn away, she tested the door handle to find that the flat was unlocked.
Curiosity drove her on.
Of course she had the excuse about the break-in if she was caught by Millicent. Crystal just wanted to see the house that Millicent lived in. There was much to find out about the style in which one lived.
She opened the door.
There was a smell of piss that brought her back to the scene of her office. Shaking her head she entered the apartment. Millicent seemed so tidy and fastidious, why would her flat smell so bad. A smell of stale cigarette smoke underlay the smell of festering urine.
Crystal entered the apartment.
It was untidy. Plates smeared with food. Cartons from takeaways, a sofa on its back and broken glass. Wandering from room to room, Crystal was shocked by the disorder. Not just disorder; the place was worse than a pigsty.
She opened the door to the bathroom door.
A naked woman, bruised, splashed with blood, tied to the bowl of the toilet. Millicent was gagged, savagely. A belt had been used to hold the panties in her gaping, but filled, mouth. Rough rope held her legs open and circled her large maltreated breasts. The head of a brush showed where the handle had been savagely pushed into her ass and needle marks punctuated her arm with blood.
Crystal stood a moment, in shock at the picture of degraded womanhood that lay at her feet. This was, in crude terms, what she had intended for Millicent, but to see it like this provoked outrage!
She bent and undid the belt.
A lump of cloth fell from Millicent’s open lips to the piss soaked floor. She looked up, one eye almost closed by a massive bruise, and tried to smile.
“Kenny,” she said.
"And his buddy, Jimmy…”
“Let’s get the fuck out of here!”
Using a kitchen knife, Crystal freed Millicent from the ropes and draped a dressing gown over her battered body and the two of them made their way to the taxi waiting outside.
Millicent sat bolt upright in the back seat, tears in her eyes, silent but wracked by sobs as the taxi took them to Crystal’s house on South Indian River Drive.
Crystal helped Millicent to the huge bathroom where, amidst steam and soft soap some of the past was washed off. Crystal made a coffee and poured two brandies before heading back to see how her abused secretary was managing.
The door was open, showing the figure of the naked woman just standing under the flood of hot water like a mature nymph in the pool of a waterfall. Crystal stripped off her clothes and joined the woman that she had intended to enslave.
Somehow, she had moved from that thought and felt genuine distress at Millicent’s treatment. She took a bar of soap and gently washed Millicent. Her fingertips coursed over the marks of beatings and the pricks of the needles. The palms of her hand soothed Millicent, contact healed some of the invisible wounds.
The soap was soft and the lather eased Crystal’s hands as she massaged and stroked Millicent. She touched those wracked breasts. Stroked those cut nipples. Her hands soothed an ass that had been belt whipped, it slid into the violated crease and soothed away some of the pain of anal rape.
Millicent just stood and soaked in the attentions of her boss. The woman who seemed so distant became a paradox to Millicent. The contrast of the assault of the two drug crazed men contrasted to the attentions of this mature woman who seemed to know that she could not speak, yet. That she could do no more than bathe in the steaming water, smooth lather and gentle hands of this woman who had saved her from a wet grave in the everglades.
The interview with the police consisted of filling in a number of forms and signing them. The inspector seemed distant and that attitude was confirmed when he told her that there was little chance of finding the thieves.
“Probably addicts needing money for their next fix,” he commented as he showed her out of the office. “When we know more I’ll contact you again, but there are three hundred unsolved such crimes on my desk and I expect to solve fifty and have perhaps another fifty solved by confessions. For the rest there is insurance!”
So Crystal headed home to her new hobby. The broken Millicent.
Forming in her head was a plan that went beyond making her secretary a slave. The idea was seeded by their contact in the shower. It flowered in her head as she supervised the cleaners and decorators who were to put her office to rights.
The idea matured as she headed for home.
What she really needed was a confederate. A sister who she could play her games with! Crystal needed a partner in crime and the vulnerable Millicent would be ideal. She was erotic when exposed; she was ready to be bent to her mistress’ will. She was in shock and she had lost the man who she had dedicated so much effort to winning.
Like a piece of wood in the steam cabinet, Crystal reckoned that she could bend Millicent to a new form, and that form would stay once the heat and steam faded.
Her idea was to create Millicent in her own twisted image.
A man hating, sexually motivated dominatrix.
A weapon in her mistress’ armoury.
A friend, a sister a lover.
A beholden bitch!
“Five times, or maybe only four,” said Millicent. “I couldn’t tell any more, it just hurt!”
Millicent was recounting the rape to Crystal. She had not asked why Crystal had not called the police. She had not asked why Crystal had appeared at her apartment. She had asked no questions, she just recounted the experience of the last two days to her new friend, her saviour, in a calm and bitter tone.
“It was the crystal meth,” she continued. “It has destroyed Kenny once, three years ago, now it will take him the rest of the way.”
“It’s not the drug,” said Crystal, “It’s in him. He is a delinquent, a thief and a rapist. We could tip off the police, since I’ll bet that it was Kenny and Jimmy that wrecked my office.”
“I know that it was.”
Where do you think that they are now?”
Millicent looked around as if expecting to see them appear any moment in Crystal’s front room.
“Jimmy said that they would rob your house and your office!”
“If they come around here then they are making a huge mistake,” said Crystal in a firm tone. “By now they will be far away off their faces on booze and meth.”
Millicent almost smiled.
Crystal could see that she was adjusting to the events of the past days. The time where she could begin Millicent on the path that she had determined was a window that was slowly closing.
“Come with me,” said Crystal gently. “I want to show you something.”
She took Millicent by the hand and led her up the broad stairs to the bedroom.
“I just want to tell you something that you need to know about me.”
Millicent stopped on the stairs and turned to face Crystal.
“I know about you, Crystal. You are the woman who saved me.”
It seemed so strange to call her boss by her first name in this intimate moment. Almost as though it was a forbidden word. ‘Crystal’. She held out a hand and touched Crystal’s cheek in affection.
Crystal turned her head slightly and kissed those fingers.
“I need you, Millie. It was coincidence that I came to your apartment yesterday, but I almost feel as though it was meant to be!”
Millicent did not withdraw her hand she allowed the lips to kiss her fingers and felt so grateful inside. Grateful and fondness. Maybe passion. One of her fingers slipped between those pink lips, it felt a tongue, it felt good.
“We should do what we feel the need for,” said Crystal as she put an arm around her new lover and guided her to the bedroom. “I so need to soothe you, heal all that hurt.”
“Is it for you as well as for me?
“Yes. For me. I need this so much. I get what I want, always!”
“I know that you do. Be gentle with me! I am so tender…”
Crystal Hard. (Pt 1.)
The man in the leather jacket stood casually, leaning on the corner of the wall, watching a doorway. Waiting for it to open. The fifth cigarette that he had smoked whilst on this watch burned low and then joined the others on the pavement.
Even though this was a dangerous neighbourhood, with whores, thieves and drug addicts trolling the streets during the daytime, he was not worried. Any fool that dared to challenge him with fists or knife would quickly find himself in trouble. Somehow this self-assurance communicated to those who normally did not allow others to trample their territory and he was left to smoke in peace.
The door opened and his frame stiffened slightly and then relaxed as he realised that his quarry was not the man who was leaving the building. Muttering about the way that criminals, lawyers and sluts always made a man wait, he lit another cigarette.
Two months ago he had taken the job from Mrs Veryon. It was not unusual, he was the man that she always turned to when she needed a little private investigation doing. The rates were pretty good. This time it had been a little harder.
Find Jimmy Scofield!
That was it. A name and no more except for a physical description that could have described any hood in the hood. He had started with his police contacts. He had read the file.
Finally! The effort had paid off and taken him to the green door.
He pulled the phone from his pocket and checked that the camera was ready to use. The door opened as if his premonition had triggered the real world to conform to his will.
Jimmy walked out of the door of the crack house and staggered up the street with the private detective coming up behind. Jimmy Scofield was being sought for three murders, a rape and a sheet of crimes that made him one of the most sought after petty criminals on the streets of Florida. Now he would meet his nemesis.
As he rounded a corner at the end of the block the detective called out his name.
Jimmy turned to look but did not see the man who had called and then ducked into a doorway. He shrugged and walked off whilst the detective congratulated himself at the quality of the photos as well as the fact that his quarry had answered to his name.
Of course. Why Mrs Veryon needed to know where Jimmy Scofield was and what she planned, the detective had no clue. Lawyers were always up to something!
Crystal Hard. (Pt 2.)
It was two months since the rape.
Two months since Jimmy and Kenny had disappeared and Crystal had put a detective on their trail.
“What happens when you find them?” asked Millicent. “The police?”
“No way,” came the reply. “We get our revenge, but I can’t think exactly what we are going to do.”
“Beating up Jimmy will do no good. He will brush off his jacket and come back with a knife.”
This was a subject that had been discussed a few times. It was clear that Millicent never wanted to see either Jimmy or Kenny again, but a hatred boiled just beneath the surface that Crystal could feel.
She warmed her hands on its heat every day.
Crystal led her lover down that path that she had determined. It was not as difficult as she had thought it would be. Once Crystal had become her lover she bathed in Crystal’s advice, guidance and instruction.
The bruises and cuts healed, but the inner loathing for men did not.
It festered until Millicent realised that she would never again make love to a man. To have Crystal’s hand inside her, to have a tongue at her clitoris was to be fucked by her lover. She gave it all back and Crystal realised that part of what she had been missing had been affection. Now that she had it she played her cards to appease her baser desires and wants.
Soon it would be Jimmy in her cellar.
He would never stop fighting.
He would suffer for ever.
“I have no intention of just beating him up or giving him to the police,” said Crystal. “What I want to do to him is what he did to you!”
The word still came hard to Millicent. Now it came firmly and there was an agate look in her eye that told Crystal that she was ready to find out what Crystal was about. The dark place which she lived in, the purpose that filled her heart and her sex.
“I would love to fuck him to death!”
“My plan is exactly that, darling,” said Crystal breathing heavily now that she realised the time was ripe. “I want to show you what I have prepared especially for Jimmy Scofield.”
She took Millicent by the hand and led her to the cellar. Red, Black, White and Green.
She opened the door to her private hell and revealed the need that was still inside her breast for the moment, but that would burst out fully grown when she had Jimmy Scofield in her power.
“We will fuck him until he is less than human. I will show you how to reduce a man to meat that melts on the palate. When we are finished with Jimmy Scofield we will give him to be fed to the pigs!”
Like Unto Crystal.
It was the dead of night. A pollen of neon dusted the road and the few people who were foolish enough to be out and about at this time of night and in this part of Fort Pierce.
Angel dust was no longer of interest to Jimmy Scofield. Now it was heroin, horse, crap and hard candy, the big H. It left him euphoric and then in deep depression. It made him violent when he got it and violent when he could not! It led him to abandon his contacts with his confederates, like that cunt Kenny that he so despised.
The crack house at the corner of fifteenth and seventh was his best source, all he had to do was get enough money to pay for it. A week before he had gone three days without his supply and he had robbed a gas station with a knife in broad daylight just to get his hands on his fix. Now the narcs were after him and his description was posted on every detective’s wall.
Still he had a fix in his pocket and another coursing through his veins.
Life was good!
A car pulled up. A red sedan. In it was a whore. Jimmy bent to look into the window and found himself staring into the chambers of a revolver that was showing all its chambers full.
“Fuck off bitch,” he yelled and reached for the woman with the gun.
For a moment Crystal was in shock. In her imagination Jimmy would get in the car and submit to being cuffed.
In her imagination.
He reached for the gun and did not notice the other woman in the back of the car who snapped a cuff onto his wrist and then onto the stanchion that supported the headrest.
Jimmy pulled at the cuffs and tried to pull his body out of the window as Crystal regained the initiative by pushing the barrel of the gun into his face and releasing the brake.
“In the fucking car, Jimmy, now!” she ordered as the car slid forward in automatic and dragged him with it. The cold metal of the gun slid over his teeth and entered his lips like a rapist’s hard cock.
The car stopped and he pulled himself in the window, into the passenger seat. One hand was still fixed, the other was free, but the barrel was now in his mouth and the hammer was back. Any violent move and he would be splattered, any violent move and the woman who held the gun would be splashed with his brains.
He saw a movement behind and tried to pull away as a hood covered his head and a racketing as something banding the neck of the hood pulled tight. His hand flailed to go for the gun. It was clear that he was going to die, why not at the hands of the bitch with the pistol?
“Jimmy, we just need to talk to you, if you come quietly you may survive this!”
Crystal tried to sound as though she was offering a business proposition as Millicent lined up the cuffs and cuffed his right wrist to the hand grip above the door.
“That’s better now, Jimmy, let’s go for a ride!”
Crystal could scarcely have said anything worse. Jimmy started to struggle like a madman. In his violent world, ‘going for a ride’ could only mean one thing.
A lift to the graveyard.
Crystal at last lost all self-control and pistol whipped him through the hood. “Sit and fucking behave you witless cunt,” she yelled.
The whole thing had lasted thirty seconds, but they had attracted the attention of the two men loafing on the other side of the street. Crystal passed the revolver to Millicent and put her foot down.
The feeling of movement seemed to calm their acquisition and he asked who they were.
“I’m your nemesis,” said Crystal.
“What the fuck’s that?”
“You’ll find out, Jimmy, you’ll find out!”
Jimmy cleaned up and dried out was almost a different Jimmy. Three days with his head in a hood while he went cold turkey. Four days of being hosed down and chained to a wall in a white cell that looked like a weird bathroom.
He was confused.
Revenge for Jimmy was a dish eaten hot and spicy.
Who was doing this to him? Whom had he upset? WTF?
At the end of a week the hood was lifted from his head and he found that he was back in the white room with two women. One of them, the big titted brunette, he recognised from somewhere, but the exact time that they had met baffled him.
The other looked like a whore, rich bitch and hooker all rolled into one. She was the one who had had the revolver in the car. Now she was dressed in a tight latex costume that belonged in one of the pornos that he had made some money as an actor a few years ago. The crop in her hand was long and ended in a curl of leather braid that looked more like a pretty toy than a whip that could flay a man in the right hands.
“So?” he asked insolently.
The whip curled and left a stripe across his thighs, neatly missing his cock and balls but wrapping into the tender skin between his legs.
“He doesn’t recognise you,” said the older woman with the whip.
“I’m not surprised, he saw a different part of me then,” said the large breasted woman as she started to slip her dress over her head.
Her body was smooth, like a bottle. Hairless and pale in complexion. The slit and lips of her sex were a subtle opening between her firm thighs, her breasts were heavy and hung like ripe fruit but her face. The face of Kenny’s girlfriend. The face of the fat bitch that he had raped again and again.
Suddenly Jimmy understood his peril. This was no criminal who wanted money. This was not a man that needed him alive to repay a debt. This was no dispute over the purity of drugs or who was going to go first in a gang rape. This was a woman that he had raped and fucked up the ass. This was a woman that he had pissed on and wanked over. This was a woman that he had beaten, gagged and kicked and now she was in a position to extract her revenge at leisure.
“I should cut your cock off, Jimmy,” she said.
He shook his head in fear, unable to speak for the dread that was filling his mind.
“Can I?” asked Crystal.
“Of course, whenever you like. But first I want Jimmy here to find out what two days of rape is like. But, it may well be a lifetime of rape.”
“Please,” he said in a pitiful voice.
“I’ve heard enough, Millicent, bag him!”
The bag closed over his head as the whip kissed his flesh again, this time above his prick. It kissed and like an evil woman’s manicure, it tore and it left a scratch that wept a few tears of blood.
Through the hood he could hear the two women talking.
“So I have to wait until you are finished before I can cut his balls off?” said the ‘rich bitch’ to the one with the big breasts.
“Honey, just because you have put on the latex does not mean that you can go first every time! You can cut off what you like when I have finished with the fucker…”
From inside the darkness of the hood, Jimmy tried to make his own contribution to the conversation: “Please, I will do what you want…”
It was the sharp retort of the whip that silenced the begging just as Jimmy was starting to get up steam. It cut across his prick like a line of liquid fire and made him cry out with the agony, it told him that these two bitches were really into this scene.
That they were enjoying every moment.
That Jimmy had better come up with a means of escape or he would be in real trouble!
A hand stroked his cock, the finger tips running along he damage that the braided whip had done.
“He can’t get it up,” said the voice of Crystal.
“It’s all the angel dust! They always steal Viagra when they break into chemist shops because the meth kills their little willies!”
“That’s a shame because a hard prick is so much better to play with than a soft one.”
“Hey, don’t worry, he’ll recover in a couple of weeks and then he will be able to enjoy every moment of being fucked by us!” said Millicent as the two women left the room.
Just before the door closed Jimmy heard Crystal make one last comment:
“I have some other ideas too…”
The door closed and he was left to contemplate the part he was to play in their revenge.
The part of the helpless victim.
Jimmy never thought of himself as having been trained by two women. No! What he had developed was pragmatism that was waiting for the inevitable moment when he would overcome these two weak sluts and wreak his own revenge. He just had to await that opening, that moment of vulnerability when he would show them what real fucking meant.
For the moment he was biding his time!
Until then he was submitting…
Tonight was his three hundredth night of confinement. Almost a year of revenge had been taken, more would surely come. Tonight he was caged at the bottom of Crystal’s bed in the Green Room.
Waiting for his owners to arrive.
Millicent wandered into the Green Room and stood contemplating the man who had raped her. Arms and legs were bent and bound at wrists and knees. The whole was tightly ensconced in tight, clear latex, to leave him on elbows and knees.
To her eyes he looked like a contorted dog, a pet ready for her attentions. Soon he would be gone from their lives, the arrangements had been made. Soon her revenge would be passed into other hands…
He looked up at her with animosity in his eyes. She could almost feel the hatred emanating from him in waves. Fear and loathing. It was nothing compared to the distaste that she felt for him.
She smiled at him and bent to reach between the bars of the cage. Her hand ran from the top of his head, down the slick rubber on his back and caressed the wide stopper that nestled between the cheeks of his ass.
Every function of Jimmy’s body was controlled by his two mistresses.
Her fingertips slid to his balls and squeezed them. They were so ripe and ready to be milked. Then his erect shaft. There was no doubt that Jimmy was well endowed. This was the prick that had invaded her pussy and ass. This was the prick that had spurted on her lips. This was the prick that now belonged to her.
She slid her fist up and down the length of his stiff flesh and enjoyed the reaction. His hips betrayed him as they moved to get more traction and fuck the hand that gently brought him to his full size.
Millicent heard her lover enter the room and enjoyed the sight of Crystal in all her glory.
Her heels were high and spiked with bronze. A loose shift of lace allowed Millicent to admire every curve, every crease of that body, but the crop in her hand added a menacing touch to that alluring picture that bode ill for Jimmy.
“Tonight is our last night together,” said Crystal to the pleasure slave. “So we would like to make it special!”
“It’s almost a shame that we are to be parted,” said Millicent with an ironic tone. “Such sweet sorrow.”
Crystal stood behind her lover and allowed her hands to wander over that luscious body. A scar drew a line between her breasts, a reminder of those terrible two days.
“When he goes where we are sending him, he will still be available…”
“It won’t be the same when we watch the films rather than having the star actor with us, doing our bidding.”
“True,” said Crystal as she released the bolt on the cage. “But, I think that we should change our partners every now and again, after all variety is the spice of life! As it is I have an idea in mind that may be of interest to you…”
Jimmy was ushered out of the cage and struggled to get onto the soft surface of the bed. A light kick with the pointed toes of Crystal’s stilettoes made him jump up to where he waited for further abuse.
“Since it’s the last night that the three of us are together, I really think that we should fuck him thoroughly,” laughed Crystal as she touched his bobbing prick with her whip.
“Let’s play a little game of surprise sex with him, shall we?”
Crystal chuckled as she nodded agreement.
“I feel like dressing up this evening so let’s push the boat out!”
Taking a chain she hobbled their sex slave to the bed and went laughing into the adjoining dressing room. Jimmy could hear them laughing as they made their decisions about what fantasy to enact.
‘What had Crystal said about it being his last night here? Surely they were not going to dispose of him?’ he thought as he pulled a little at the chain to see if there was a way to get loose and find some implement to cut the bindings that kept him folded like a piece of human origami.
His eyes were uncovered and he surveyed the room for possibilities. His thoughts were fearful, but that just seemed to excite him. His prick was as stiff as a board and rubbed on the soft silk of the coverlet.
Jimmy knew the price of coming without permission.
The Red Room!
They had taken off the steel tube that normally imprisoned his cock for the first time today, there was no way that he was going to make the mistake of climaxing without express permission from his owners.
‘Owners!’ he thought.
Slowly he was bending to the rules of the terrible game of pain and service that they had built like a net around his conscious thoughts. His attempts to escape were feeble and without hope. Almost like a fish thrashing around on the deck of a ship.
‘That bitch Crystal was evil,’ he decided. ‘but, Millicent was worse.’
It had been Millicent that had taken out his teeth. She was the one that had cut the word ‘slut’ into his back with a knife. It was Millicent that did not just enjoy his service, she made every moment torture if she could.
It was not enough for him to be in the darkness of the Black Room. Millicent had smeared ginger oil over his body that stung and burned in waves of pain.
It was not enough that Crystal used the cane in the Red Room. Millicent had soaked the canes in water to make every blow twice the agony.
When Crystal punished him for real or imagined infractions, it was Millicent that frigged herself in time with the blows. Until she climaxed he was punished so that if she was leisurely in orgasming he was punished all the longer.
Jimmy never lamented the fucking that he had inflicted on Millicent. What he regretted was that he could not get free and strangle her while he fucked her tight ass hole.
He wondered what was taking the two cunts so long. He could feel a sweat that made the rubber coating slick on his skin. Nervous apprehension!
Then the door opened and he saw what had been so time consuming.
Crystal and Millicent had decided to dress as dominatrices of the most terrifying sort. Leather and laces was the theme.
Aggression and violation was the leitmotif.
Crystal still wore her heels and stockings and had added a basque that brought her waist to a waspish, slender neck above her wide naked hips. The slit of her smooth sex pouted, ready for attention, and her breasts swelled naked, cupped, to contrast with the black of the smooth matt leather. Elbow-long gloves smoothed her forearms and her whip dangled from her hand as the accessory for her belligerent costume. Black makeup and hair in a bun contrasted the sly smile on her face as she did a little turn for her victim.
“What do you think?” she asked the gagged slave rhetorically.
“Perfect,” said Millicent, as she emerged from the changing room.
Millicent had obviously decided that leather and defilement were the perfect dress code. Her thigh high boots with their elaborate lacing merged into a body covering, tight, costume. The dildo that sprang from her crotch like a black extension of her hate already had a condom pulled over it, ready for it to plunge into Jimmy’s body. The leather covering did not have a break in it. It covered her, leaving just an oval opening for her face. Her long hair streamed out of the metal ring at the back of head to drape a single plait that had been finished with a black bow.
“I think that we should get our little Jimmy into the mood for you,” said Crystal as she hefted the whip and tapped him on the back. “He needs relaxing!”
She pulled the stopper free from his ass with a soft sound and waved it before his face.
“Now that you are the little girl you can put into practice all that we have taught you.”
The closure of his gag was also pulled free by Crystal who made sure that the ring held his mouth open wide.
“I think that you will thank us for all the work that we have put in when you go on to your next home,” she said as her gloved hand grasped his erection and pulled him rigid.
Millicent laughed as he bucked at the handling that Crystal was meeting out to him. Alternately slapping his hanging balls and roughly pulling at him.
Jimmy tried so hard not to cry out as her open hand slapped at him. He knew that a scream or cry would result in just more punishment. He could not help himself. The squeeze and pull of her hand after a vicious slap made him yelp.
“Please, please,” he shouted as tears began to stream from his eyes. “I will do anything!”
“I know you will,” said Millicent as she came onto the bed to kneel behind him. “You will come for me like a fucking whore and then beg for more…”
She lined up the dildo and placed it on the rear entrance to his body ready to fuck him, to rape him, whilst Crystal laid a blow of her whip on his back as a punishment for speaking out of turn.
The women ignored the slight squeal of pain as the braid lashed at his ass.
“I think that Jimmy is ready for you now,” said Crystal as she enjoyed the way that his prick nodded with his unwelcome excitement.
Millicent rocked her hips and pushed the intruder into his body. She could feel him try to resist, but the smooth shaft entered with ease and paused an inch into him as the bulge at the tip forced him open.
“More, bitch?” she said to her unwilling mate. “Beg for it!”
Jimmy’s breath came in a whistle over the ring gag as he accommodated the vast interloper in his ass. This was so much larger than anything that the two women had used on their slave before. It stretched him wide threatening to ruin his ass, it was at the very limit of his capacity.
“Please, Miss, please fuck me,” he gasped.
Once the head of the object was past his stretched ass the rest would be easier. He prayed that she would be gentle and slow.
“That’s better, Jimmy. Maybe you can please me too? I would not want to be left out?”
Crystal climbed onto the bed and lay under the sweating male slut. Parting her legs slightly, she allowed him to gaze at her streaming cunt. This was what she had wanted, a partner and an unwilling slave. Her hands came and pulled his face into her flesh as the spikes of her shoes grazed the length of his prick as her legs stretched below his quivering belly.
Millicent pushed and Jimmy felt a little relief as the head pushed inside to allow the knobbed shaft to ream him. His tongue worked at Crystal as she moved him to find her clitoris.
The hardness of the shoes pressed against him and Jimmy started to feel the excitement of being raped by Crystal and Millicent. His prick rubbed against sole and then spike alternately as he worked to give Crystal her first climax.
Then he heard a hissing noise from Millicent.
In horror he realised that the intruder in his rear was swelling as it pushed into him. It recognised no resistance as Millicent pressed it home. It pushed deeper and deeper, swelling all the while until Jimmy was caught between the rock of the intense bliss of the savage shoes and the hard place of being painfully raped.
He was at his limit. His cock was a slave to her sharp heels.
“Are you going to allow him to come?” asked Millicent as the leather of her costume pushed into the cheeks of his ass.
Crystal gasped and wriggled to allow his tongue to slip into the depths of her ass. Her head nodded in answer to her lover’s question as she pulled the braided whip handle through her cunt.
She could feel Jimmy’s unwilling lips on her ass; she could feel his flesh under her heels. She gouged at him and felt a shiver run through his pinned body.
Jimmy came with a rush. His cock pumped over the shoes that had brought him to climax. The massive dildo still fucked him. It reamed him, it unmanned him. It filled him beyond capacity.
It fucked him.
The shoes that had brought him to climax withdrew slowly and the smiling Crystal offered them to his face.
“Lick!” she ordered.
Jimmy lapped up his come as he was raped from behind. The thrusts of Millicent rocked his body as the base of the dildo pressed against her cunt
Millicent climaxed with a rush as she realised that at last she had reversed the roles of that night nearly a year ago. She was the rapist and he was the tart with come on his face.
He had become the fuck slut. Meat on the end of her rubber prick.
Millicent’s hands went to her exposed nipples to add just that little bit of spice. A final push over the edge of gratification. She felt an overwhelming feeling. Like a release, a sudden flight of imagination.
Crystal had set her free.
She looked down at the wreck of a man who lay beneath her. The dildo slowly retreated and pulled free. The hole of his ass closed slowly as though kissing its tormenter goodbye.
Light headed and happy, she looked at Crystal.
The woman who loved her.
The bitch that she loved.
Crystal lay back on the bed and toyed with the remote.
“You know that we have not thought about getting another slave yet!” she said with a wink. “It’s great with just us, but I sort of miss Jimmy.”
“As you like,” she murmured. “You know that you can have whatever you want, so just do it!”
“My private detective has found Kenny!”
“Is that what you are asking? My permission to make him pay us a visit?”
Crystal laughed and stroked her lover’s hair. “Of course I need your permission, not just because it’s Kenny, but because I love you!”
Millicent responded with a kiss that lingered on Crystal’s lips and then drifted to her breasts. For a moment she teased the nipples with her tongue and then she looked up into Crystal’s eyes.
“You are naughty, Crystal. You have been training me as well!”
“I admit it, you delectable slut, but you have to admit that you have responded well to instruction.”
“OK. I’ll give you that. I have a bit of a taste for more servile male flesh. But, let’s not bother with Kenny just yet. I fancy that an older man would be interesting to train. Maybe a couple, fresh and vulnerable!”
Crystal did not answer, she flicked at the remote control in her hand and the television sprang to life.
“I thought that you might be interested in some of Jimmy’s latest doings,” she said.
The television blazed with crude film titles and then the picture darkened to reveal a man in a hood being staked out on a crude wooden frame. All around were other men who watched whilst the hood was removed to reveal Jimmy.
“This is his first film,” said Crystal. “It’s called ‘Anal Violation’ and I have been informed that it might be the start of a series. Personally I think that he may not last beyond part five, but who knows?”
The two women watched the men take their turn at using Jimmy at both ends in silence. Millicent could feel a twinge of pleasure at seeing the end of Jimmy. When they had finished with him there would be no marker over the grave. Jimmy struggled and fought but the ten men who were using him just slapped him and used him.
Again and again.
“What did you get for Jimmy?”
“Just five thou’,” said Crystal as she planted a kiss on Millicent’s forehead.
“I always wanted a fur coat!”
“I can’t think of a better way to spend the money!”
Copyright © Miss Irene Clearmont 2012(Feb)
More of Miss Irene Clearmont’s WWW writing can be found at:
contact me at:
Most E Mails get a reply.
Read 3327 times | Rated 50 (6 votes)
Vote list (Close) :
Please rate this text: