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Chapter 3 - The Family Tradition
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Jordaine watched him casually from across the room as all the inevitable
thoughts went through his head. Mira would be pleased to train this one, as
would she, but then again Mira was 'always' pleased at the prospect of training
a new slave.
She'd told her once that it was the 'newness' of the experience. The new
expressions, the new sounds they would make, the new passions they brought with
them into the training.
Not 'all' their slaves were 'unwilling' victims as Dillon was, and Jarron had
been. Some of them came to them voluntarily, or were 'sent' by their present
Mistress for retraining.
Mira and herself had gained quite the reputation in 'certain' circles of being
'excellent' Mistresses. Calm and even, with a safety record that went 'well'
beyond anyone else's. They were both 'proud' to boast that neither of them had
ever caused any 'permanent' damage to a slave, unwilling or not.
For the most part, their training consisted of those skills that a man needed to
please a woman. Both domestically, physically, and sexually. They taught the men
under their care how to become consummate lovers, as well as house husbands.
Their business was 'very' tight lipped, as some would consider what they did as
evil, or sado-masochistic, but it was far from either. They both prided
themselves on their gentleness, or harshness when the need arose for it, but
neither of them caused pain just for the sake of causing pain.
The punishments they devised were suited to the crime at hand, and never
harmful. Humiliating, yes, decidedly that, but never harmful. Mentally or
physically. Meant to bend the will to their wishes, not crush it.
She watched now, as Dillon struggled with himself. His indecision clearly
written on his features. She could hear his stomach rumbling loudly, even from
across the wide room in the silence.
She rose gracefully, her long, leather clad legs moving her across the room in a
few steps. She squatted next to him then, staring into his pleading eyes for a
moment before speaking. "Hungry are we?" she asked softly, her smile gentle in
that moment, though it didn't reach her cool blue eyes.
Dillon nodded, his eyes uncontrollably going toward the bowl of stew on the
floor. "Your going to be quiet when I remove that gag." she stated softly,
reaching behind him to undo it, her tone brooking no argument as she did so.
When the ring was free of his mouth, Dillon popped his jaw back into place and
opened his mouth to speak. Before he could, she was dangling the ring before him
on a long finger, merely waiting. He thought better of what he'd been about to
say, and snapped his mouth shut tightly, afraid she'd put it back in anyway.
"Good boy." she said, rising slightly to undo the spiked collar as well. "You
may eat now." she added as the offensive steel popped free from around his neck.
Dillon lurched forward again and dove toward the bowl, his stomach rumbling
loudly as the first bits of the cooling stew hit his system moments later. He
felt degraded and humiliated, eating as he was, but the thought slipped from his
mind as he continued to do so out of need more than anything else.
His hair slipped forward and into the stew in the bowl, but he was uncaring in
that moment. He felt her gentle hands then, at his neck, pulling it out of the
bowl, and a moment later felt a gentle tug as she cleaned it as well.
It seemed like an eternity before he finished, but in reality it was only
minutes before he rolled heavily to his side and let out a manly like belch of
sound.
She tisked from above him, as he leered crudely at her from his position on the
floor. "That will never do. You will learn to control your bodily functions."
she stated as she removed his leash from it's ring in the wall, and gave it a
gentle tug for him to rise.
He struggled upward, finally finding his voice as he did so. "Look lady...I
don't know what your trip is, but release me now.....and I won't tell anyone
about this." he said, his anger rushing over him in waves again as he haltingly
got to his knees, jutting his chin out in defiance.
He never saw it coming, but the backhanded slap that landed across his jaw,
startled him more than it hurt. "You do not speak to me thus." she said, her
voice 'soft' despite the violence of her action the moment before.
She grabbed the back of his head and pulled it backwards, her hand intertwined
in his long hair. Pinching his nose again, she waited for him to breath, ring at
the ready. He held out a bit longer this time, knowing that as soon as he opened
his mouth to breath she would gag him in some way again. Finally, his lungs
craving air, his mouth burst open with a whoosh.
Sure enough, she shoved the heavy rubber ring back in his mouth, behind his
teeth and buckled it behind his neck in short order.
"MMMPPHHHTTTTTTT....." he growled, his eyes flashing darkly as he shook his head
from side to side to try and dislodge it once it was buckled.
She merely stood over him and smiled slowly as he struggled to raise his arms
and get it out of his mouth. "Don't struggle so." she commented as she gave his
leash a tug, forcing him down to all fours again. "Your training will be much
easier for you if you don't fight me." she added as she started across the room
again.
But he decided to fight anyway. Fighting was the only way he would free himself
from this nightmare. Resistance....his mind screamed out, as he stayed where he
was, jerking back on the collar wildly.
"Mmmmmphhhhtttttthhhhhh....." he cursed again around the ring, fighting with
wild abandon to get away from her in that moment.
But she merely sighed softly, dropping the lead and snapping her fingers. Two
shadows disengaged themselves and moved forward, the tell tale clink of chain
he'd heard before coming to his senses.
Two heavily muscled men appeared next to her and she nodded in his direction
silently. One of them, Dillon recognized belatedly as the guy from the night
before. They came to him, bent their knees slightly to get their bound hands
around his wooden arms, then rose, lifting him bodily off the floor and dragging
him in the direction of the shadows where his cell was.
He shook his head violently from side to side in that moment, fear clearly
present in his blue-green eyes as they dragged him along. He didn't want to go
back in the dark cell alone. He didn't want to be left again, and he kicked out
violently with his useless legs at his two captors.
Neither seemed mindful of his struggles and held him with ease, despite his
straightened arms. But instead of going to his cell again, they dragged him
further into the dark shadows of the room.
He didn't see the large, steel looking device until they were almost on top of
it. It looked like a medieval birthing chair of some sort. A soft light came on
then, set into the wall just above the steel contraption and he got a good look
at it just before they began to strap him too it.
It was a padded affair, and steel as he'd first surmised. Heavy duty steel from
the looks of it. It's seat reminded him of a work out machine now that he could
fully see it, with it's high, sloped back and padded bottom. Two metal pieces
shot out from the top of the bench, and two more came out of the area from
behind the seat itself.
His two captors moved him easily onto the seat, still holding his bound arms
aloft as they did so. They lifted the wooden planks on which his arms lay and he
saw 'her' come into his line of sight to begin buckling large straps around his
arms pulling them tightly to the rods and pressing him against the high back of
the seat.
She moved to his other arm and did the same, the male stepping out of her way
without being told too as she worked. It was then that both males bent and
maneuvered his leather clad legs over the steel rods at the seat area, in
between the wall and the rod. Each attached an ankle cuff to his leg, then moved
away slightly to allow her in.
She reached down and attached a length of chain to the ring in the ankle cuff on
each foot before rising and moving away again. He heard her moving around behind
him for a moment and tried to lift his head to see what she was about but failed
in his current position.
He felt the pull on his ankles, and heard the turn of a crank as his lower body
was pulled forward against the high back of the bench as she shortened the chain
holding his feet down. When she finished turning the crank, he was completely
immobile against the high, padded back and could do no more than lift his head
slightly from where his cheek was pressed into the padding.
But she solved that problem a moment later as he felt a wide strip of leather
being placed around the back of his head and buckled just to the side. This
piece caused him now to be completely immobile despite his desperate struggles
against it.
He could neither see her, nor move his head to do so unless she came into his
small line of vision, which she did a moment later. She still said not a word as
she loosened the leather on his leg and began to move it down his muscular thigh
much like pantyhose. She moved and he felt her doing the same to his other leg a
moment later, though he couldn't turn his head to see her.
Once the leather was pooled around his ankle she stepped into his line of sight
again. "I'm going to give you 5 lashes now for your defiance slave." she said
softly, "And maybe you'll learn not to do such things in the future."
She stepped out of his line of sight again and it seemed an eternity before the
first lash fell across his back. He 'jerked' in reaction, more out of
astonishment than anything else that she'd actually laid a whip to his skin.
He felt the welt rising almost immediately and it took a moment for the actual
'pain' of it to register in his mind. When it did, he screamed loudly against
the ring in his mouth, struggling against the bonds that held him to the bench.
The second lash fell and he screamed loudly again, pushing backwards in an
effort to move from the singing swish he knew would come now. Tears pooled in
his eyes and he whimpered just a scant second before the third raised a fire
across his skin.
The fourth and the fifth followed in short order, and if he could have seen his
back, he would have been astonished at the perfect pattern she'd laid in red
there. Five equally long, and equally spaced welts rose in stark prominence to
his lightly tanned skin testifying to her expertise with the implement that
dangled loosely from her hand.
He heard her stride forward and she came into his blurred line of sight again.
"A slave must learn from his mistakes, and your open defiance brought this on.
Nothing more, nothing less." she stated reaching out to softly caress the top of
his head.
A moment later, she unbuckled the strap that held his head immobile and wiped
away his tears with a gentle touch that belied the beating she'd just given him.
His breathing came in ragged gulps for air through the ring and she bent toward
the floor, coming back up with a bottle of water he hadn't noticed before.
She opened it, lifted it to his lips and allowed him to drink, holding her hand
gently beneath his chin to tilt his head upwards and let the water run down his
throat through the ring. When he finished, she poured some on a white linen
scrap she'd picked up as well, and dabbed softly at the welts of fire on his
back.
Her gentle care of him surprised him through his haze of pain. She'd just beat
him, now she was caring for the marks, leaning close to inspect them and make
sure she hadn't broken the skin. She leaned up with a pleased smile after a
moment and continued to gently dab water on the welts for a bit, cooling the
fire somewhat.
"You will stay here for the rest of the night." she stated after she'd finished,
"And tomorrow we will discuss your situation." she added softly, reaching out
once more to stroke his head in a casual caress as her other hand reached up and
turned off the light above them plunging him once again into darkness.
___________________________________________________________
She turned and walked away from Dillon's immobile form on the bench, Jarron and
Selik following without command. Both had been in training long enough to know
what to do. Her thighs were wet from the beating she'd just given, brief as it
was, and she herself ached for relief, remembering Dillon's mewling whimpers as
she'd laid the whip to his bare back.
"Jarron. Off to bed." she stated softly, eyeing Selik up and down with a knowing
smile as they stepped into the circle of light cast by lamp beside the couch.
Jarron hung his head in shame as he moved away and Jordaine's own heart ached
for a moment as she watched him go.
It wasn't out of love, though, but his own sense of shame that he'd done
'something' to displease her, thinking she was Mira. She liked Jarron well
enough, he'd certainly done 'very' well in his year of training, adapting faster
than most once he'd accepted his fate at their hands, but he wasn't a favorite
for her.
It had been awhile since she'd trained a slave, preferring lately to stay above
stairs, running their more 'legitimate businesses. She knew that Mira favored
Jarron when she was training the others, allowing him more leeway than most
because in truth she was probably 'just' as much in love with him as well,
whether she'd admit it or not.
But he wasn't Jordaine's type. Slaves like Selik, with his long, flowing blond
hair, wide shoulders, trim waist and stoutly muscled legs....were. Slaves like
Dillon was 'going' to be with his youthful looks, expressive blue green eyes,
and well muscled limbs.
Jarron was however, just as heavily muscled as the others, but in a 'brutish'
sort of way. The term 'brick shithouse' came to mind with his rock hard abdomen,
tree trunk like legs, strong jaw and wide muscled chest and back.
He'd been a former 'bad boy' before being captured by them, and his long
defiance of the twins had been a pleasure for them both to bend to their will.
But it was Selik that folded himself gracefully at her feet as she lounged on
the couch in front of the entertainment center in the dungeon. Selik, with his
long golden hair, brightly intelligent hazel eyes, and easy smile would pleasure
her tonight. And it was Dillon that would pleasure her in the future, she mused
with a soft smile as she spread her legs wide for him, sighing in outright
pleasure as he dipped his head there without command.
Selik spent an hour or more pleasuring her with simple strokes of his nose as
she hadn't removed the ball gag from his mouth yet and she saw his hands
clenching and unclenching at his waist as he inhaled deeply of her intoxicating
juices. Juices that now flowed freely over his face at his insistent stroking.
She sat forward slightly, lifting his head and removing the ball gag from
between his lips.
"Thank you Mistress." he said softly before dipping his head again and
pleasuring her this time with his lips, tongue and teeth as he'd been taught.
And he'd learned well, she mused as a long time later she laid her sweat soaked
head against the back of the couch, panting heavily to catch her own breath.
Selik shifted upwards with his own, easy satisfied smile and laid against her
flat stomach awaiting her next command patiently and without a word.
She lifted his head from her stomach sometime later, and soft softly. "I think
I'm in need of a bath." she stated by way of soft command.
"Yes Mistress." he stated softly as he rose gracefully to hobble off in his
chains.
She watched him go with an appreciative eye and smiled. Rising herself, she
wiped the beads of sweat off her forehead and moved across the room to the bench
where she'd left Dillon some hours before.
Laying a gentle hand to his head in the dark she smiled as she felt him shaking
slightly. "Enjoyed that did you?" she queried softly.
~Gods help him......~ He had enjoyed listening to the other man bring outright
screams of pleasure from this woman's lips. This 'evil' woman that had kidnapped
him, tied him up, and was now gently caressing his head and shoulders with a
lover's touch.
He shuddered again in his bonds, but whether it was from her touch or from the
images that were still burned into his mind at what he'd just seen, he wasn't
sure. He'd watched, like some sick voyeur, and felt his own cock and balls,
though encased in the cold metal, respond. He'd been rock hard from the moment
the man had dipped his head between her thighs and he whimpered now in the
darkness, the sound pleading as he gulped loudly.
She sat slowly behind him on the bench, the tips of her breasts above the line
of the corset she wore grazing him just below the welts she'd created earlier.
Her hands snaked across his wide, stretched shoulders and around the front of
him to his wide chest.
She grazed her hands over his erect male nipples and laughed delightedly as he
tried to jerk away from her. She pinched the tiny buds between her fingers,
hard, and laughed again when he gasped at the unexpected reaction of his
erection. It jumped painfully within it's metal confines and he was 'sure' she
could hear it slam painfully against the metal itself.
She bit the back of his neck then, gently and again he shuddered in reaction to
the sweet torture she was now inflicting upon him. She laughed delightedly again
from behind him as he turned his head toward her to whimper in soft agony.
He'd never been 'this' hard in his life, he thought to himself, at least not for
this long he realized with a jerking start. He gulped again, dragging at the air
around him through the ring in his mouth and shifted forward slightly against
the padding of the bench to try and gain some relief from the sweet agony.
But none was forthcoming, he realized as he heard her rise from behind him.
~NO.....~ his mind screamed out. ~Please...don't go....~ he wanted to beg her.
~Don't leave me like this......not now.....~
He shifted again, trying to 'rut' himself against the padding of the bench to no
avail as he heard her walk away from him and across the room. A moment later,
the light by the couch was flipped off and he was again alone in the vast
darkness....alone and whimpering out to her as he struggled against the bonds
that held him tightly to the bench.
The last sound he heard before the shutting of a door was her soft chuckle. He
groaned as the door shut softly behind her departing laughter the sound ringing
in his ears for many hours later.
_________________________________________________________
Jarron had returned to his room alone, as she'd ordered, his massive heart
threatening to break with shame and despair. He'd seen the appreciative look
she'd given the newbie. The twinkle in her eyes in anticipation of his
punishment. The wetness of her thighs when she'd finished.
Something he'd done had displeased her, he realized as he sat on his cot waiting
for her to tuck him in again. His day had been long, filled with many chores
she'd set for him. He'd done her laundry, ironing her clothes lovingly with his
bound hands and folding them just the way she'd taught him.
He'd cleaned the dungeon until it practically 'shone' in it's cleanliness. He'd
vacuumed the open cells, taking extra time to make sure each was spotless. He'd
dusted each piece of play furniture to perfection, making extra sure to get into
the creases of the large variety of equipment where dust tended to harbor
itself.
He'd even cleaned the two bathrooms in the dungeon, a chore he 'detested', but
had done out of love anyway. He leaned back against the cold stone of his cell
now, letting out a dejected sigh around the ball in his mouth.
So why had she sent him away? he wondered with a puzzled frown. It was customary
after a punishment of one of the 'younger' slaves, or newbies, that 'he' was the
one to pleasure her. It had been that way for the past months now, and he was
heartbroken that she'd chosen Selik.
It had to do with his confession of the day before surely, he realized with a
sudden pang and a jerk of anger at his bound wrists. He never should have spoken
so. Not to her. Not about him. It wasn't a slave's place to say such things to
his Mistress he'd learned. Not freely leastwise. If questioned, certainly, but
he'd felt the need to speak his mind last night.
Something had compelled him to do so, but he knew not what that something was.
It dawned on him then, it was her announcing her plans to sell him soon. It had
to have been. Nothing in the last days had given him any indication that she was
going to include him in the coming auction. One he'd help her prepare for in the
last weeks.
Mailing the invites, doing the background checks at her computer when he was
allowed, reserving the caterer for the affair, preparing the 'bio's' that went
along with each slave to be sold, along with a set of 'ownership' papers, and
the contracts for each of them. But never one for himself.
No indication that 'he' was to be 'on the block' this time. In his 'former'
life, he'd been a construction worker, not 'very' bright, but not completely
dumb either. He'd graduated high school, but never made it to college due to
alcohol. As with most in his field, he'd merely worked his way up the ranks. But
not very far, he mused to himself in that moment.
The alcohol and abuse had 'always' held him back. Always kept him at the
'bottom' of the food chain instead of rising to the 'top'. He sighed again his
lips pushing out around the gag in his mouth.
He didn't care much to remember the man he'd been, preferring to think on the
man he'd become instead. And become under 'her' careful, watchful eye and firm
hand.
His captivity had been outright torture at first, being as used as he was to the
outside world. But he'd adapted, slowly at first, then gaining speed until one
day she'd seemed to recognize his worth to her as a helper. She'd taught him how
to read better, how to work with numbers, and eventually how to communicate
better with people beyond just her.
And atop 'all' of that, was the pleasure. Both physical, when he was allowed it,
and her sexual pleasure. He groaned again at the thought of Selik pleasuring her
that night, but it wasn't out of jealousy, more out of pain that he'd
disappointed her.
He leaned back and slowly closed his eyes, trying to hold the tears at bay. He
failed. A year ago, if someone had told him that he'd been sitting in a cold,
dark cell, bound hand and foot with an enormous ball gag in his mouth and crying
like a baby, he'd have laughed at them a moment before punching them dead in the
face.
But not now.
He leaned to the side, burying his face against the cot blankets to wipe his
tears as his hands were useless at the moment, bound as they were to his waist.
He'd learned to do many things from this position, adapting to it almost
naturally despite it's initial discomforts. He'd come to realize that one didn't
'always' need ones hands to do things, and now used the majority of his massive
body to accomplish things when he needed too.
That was how she found him. Jordaine had caught up to her after her bath at
Selik's hands and updated her as to the nights events in the dungeon. It was one
of the 'safety' measures to ensure they didn't trip up each other, constantly
keeping each other appraised of the happenings below stairs so things didn't get
repeated in the course of a slave's training.
Both twins had been blessed with almost 'perfect' photographic memories which
came in handy when dealing with 10 different men at any given time below stairs,
each on a different level in their training.
She sighed as she leaned there for a moment, watching him in his depression as
he wiped away his tears once more with his face against the cot blankets.
"Jarron..." she whispered softly despite her steely resolve not to feel anything
for this slave.
She'd trained many in her work over the years, but none had ever 'affected' her.
They'd come and gone, sold and bought, each trained well to serve their new
Mistresses, or continue to serve their present ones. But 'none' had ever held a
place in her mind after they were gone.
Certainly she kept 'tabs' on her slaves, ensuring their safety 'well' after they
were sold away. One of the things the twins prided themselves on, was
responsibility and safety, and 'that' included a system of checks and balances
for each before they left.
At first with weekly updates, to ensure the slave was safe and happy. Then
bi-weekly, and eventually monthly for the first year after they'd been sold.
After that were bi-yearly calls, then finally yearly after the first three with
a new owner. If at 'any' point during the first five years, the slave expressed
unhappiness, they were immediately retrieved from their present owner, and a
partial refund was given. Allowing of course for substantial fees and fines
should that be the case.
Thus far, however, only a 'few' had had to be retrieved and sold away again
after some mental retraining. And only 'one' had been an extreme case, but
neither twin could have seen the woman's 'darker' tendencies as she'd covered
them 'well'.
"But", that one incident had been enough for them to 'up' their background
checks more extensively, delving more deeply into a potential Mistresses past
and present before they were even given an 'invite' to an auction, much less the
privilege to bid on a slave.
Nowadays, each Mistress that bid on their property were insured to be safe and
sane, of sound mind, and could well afford the exorbitant price these slaves
fetched. And she could admit with pride that her slaves fetched a 'very' high
price once they'd been fully trained as such and came with certification papers
to that affect.
She stepped forward now, her private musing interrupted by Jarron's soft sobbing
again. She'd changed her clothing before coming to him, gone were the tailored
slacks and blouse she'd had on earlier for a business meeting in town. In it's
place was the typical garb she wore when dealing with her slaves. Her fitted
bodice held to her body firmly, rustling softly as she stepped forward on bare
feet. She hadn't felt like wearing the boots as normal and adopted instead a
pair of silken and lace 'boxer' looking shorts to compliment the satiny bodice.
Jarron raised his head then, staring at her silouhetted in the doorway and his
eyes brightened through his tears. He pushed himself upwards with ease, re
adjusting his position as he'd been taught to wait for her, head bowed awaiting
her command.
She stepped forward and squatted between his massive thighs, pushing them gently
outwards as she did so. Lifting his head, she wiped away his tears with the pads
of her thumbs as she held his cheeks gently. "Why do you cry?" she asked softly.
He groaned in the darkness, his hands clenching involuntarily at her soft
question. Jutting his chin forward twice then waited for her to remove the gag.
When she had, he dropped his eyes, asking for permission to speak in his soft,
rumbling timber. She gave her consent, and he raised his eyes again to hers,
locking there, her outline fuzzy from fresh tears.
"I.....I cry because I shamed you yesterday.....Mistress...." he whispered
chokingly.
Mira smiled softly, wiping away the tears that coursed over his smooth cheeks.
"Shhhhhh....." she whispered, rising from the squat in front of him to wrap her
arms around his head and shoulders. "It's alright. You merely spoke your mind as
you'd been taught." she admonished softly.
Jarron sighed against the silken material next to his cheek. She'd never held
him this way before, her arms wrapped around him gently, stroking his head like
a lover. He jerked once at the bonds at his waist, feeling an overwhelming need
to return the gentle embrace.
He lifted his head from her flat stomach, his eyes glittering softly with his
unshead tears. "Please Mistress......" he begged. "Let me love you?" he added
softly as his eyes roamed over her face. "Let me touch you......"
Something inside Mira broke at his soft entreaty and she nodded once, the action
a mere soft movement of her head before she stepped away from him. She would let
him love her this night....this once.......
Reaching between their bodies she released the padlock at his waist, then ducked
under his massive arms and into his embrace. Jarron groaned like a dying man as
her silken bodice rubbed over his wide, muscular, shaven chest. He'd never felt
something so wonderful in all his years, he thought as she leaned her head
toward his ever so slowly.
He jerked with a start as their lips touched for the first time since he'd been
brought to her, then sighed out into her mouth as she parted his with her
tongue.
He groaned again, returning the kiss with everything in his being. She roamed
softly along his, pushing her tongue into his mouth like he'd done to her nether
regions so many times over the last year. He'd never felt something so glorious
as that simple contact and his heart pounded so hard in his chest he was sure it
was going to burst.
Finally he pulled away, needing air, and buried his face in the crook of her
neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. He couldn't believe she was here
now, in his arms, touching him as he'd dreamed of for so long.
She was perfect, he thought to himself, as he worked his bound hands back around
to the front of her body to softly grasp each globe of her breasts. The short
length of chain between his wrists set his hands in the perfect position to lift
each to his questing lips, and he spent the next several minutes paying them due
homage with his tongue, teeth and lips.
She sat astride his lap, rocking slowly back and forth with her own questing
need, and for just the briefest of moments, she 'forgot' that she was the
Mistress. The cold, calm, leader and remembered to be 'all' woman as he suckled
and nipped gently at her well endowed breasts.
She arched against his hands, smiling in the dimly lit room with pure joy, her
own hands roaming over his wide chest and shoulders in response to his sensual
caress of her chest. She'd never been 'loved' like this before, and she knew
after this night, she never would be again.
Her long hair tickled the tops of his thighs as she leaned her head back with a
loud growling moan of pleasure and her hips arched forward against the metal of
his chastity belt. ~That will never do.....~ she mused through the haze of
passion he was creating.
She leaned forward, freeing him fully with a simple twist of the locks at his
waist, a safety feature they had decided on long ago and had all their locks
specially made with this in mind. Should one of their slaves need to be freed
quickly because of some danger, a certain twist this way, a tug, and a twist
that way and the padlock would disengage itself automatically.
It was a secret only the twins knew, but it was coming in handy now, she thought
with a soft chuckle as his manhood sprang free of the inner pocket. He lifted
his hips without being told and she slid the metal away from him, letting it
drop gently to the floor behind her.
She lifted his head from her breasts then, kissing him again with all the
passion he had awakened in the moments before. Sighing deeply, she pushed at his
shoulders, guiding him gently back to the cot beneath.
He lay willingly, his eyes glimmering up at her with unspoken need, and love, as
she broke the kiss and settled back onto his long shaft. And he 'did' have a
long shaft, she'd noted more than once in the year he'd been under her care. A
long, gloriously 'rock hard' shaft. He groaned softly, tossing his head back,
as he slid home deep inside her.
Her own groan joined his a moment later as he dropped his hands to her cliortis
and began to gently rub the bud with the pads of his thumbs. Parting the folds
of her womanhood softly, he found the one spot he knew to drive her mad with
pleasure, quickly sending her over the edge of her first orgasm.
Her scream echoed off the room around them moments later and she bent forward
placing both hands to the cot on either side of his head. Her long hair slid
forward, creating a cacoon of intimacy the likes of which he'd never known,
making him feel in that moment that they were the only two people in the world.
He wasn't a slave......she wasn't a Mistress....they were simply two people that
had come together this night to share in the oldest dance known to man or woman.
That of love........
___________________________________________________
It was some time later, long after their lovemaking had ceased that they lay
with one another. She was curled atop his chest, her hand lazily stroking it's
muscled plane. His bound hands lay at her waist, his fingers slowly stroking
tiny circles against her hip.
Neither had said a word in the hours previous and it was now that Jarron spoke
softly in the darkness around them, trying one more time to gain her acceptance
of him.
"Please Mistress......" he begged, not needing to say more, as he lifted his
head to rub his cheek against the top of hers.
She raised her head and her eyes glittered at him from the shadows. She rose
slowly, almost regretfully, from the circle of his arms, and once again began to
strap him to the cot for the rest of the night.
The action returned with shocking clarity his position to the forefront of his
mind and he groaned softly against the ball gag she'd replaced, great tears
pooling in his eyes.
She rose then, standing bedside the bed to stare at him for a long moment before
turning away to the door. His eyes begged her as she walked away. Begged her to
let him stay forever...to let him love her as she deserved to be loved, but she
didn't see and he grunted behind the hard rubber in his mouth to gain her
attention.
Without turning, she pulled the door shut on him, leaving him alone with a soft
click of metal finality. She stood for a long time on the otherside, waiting for
something but not knowing what. Finally, she raised a single hand, palm flat to
the door and whispered five soft words. "I love you too Jarron......"
_________________________________________________________
Several Months Later.......
"Well...that's the last of the bunch...." came a familiar voice from behind her.
Mira nodded slowly, not turning from her position on the wide balcony as she
stared off into the night watching the departing taillights of a vehicle drive
away from the mansion in the darkness. "How'd it go?" she finally asked softly.
"Good. We should net about $500,000 for this bunch." returned her own voice from
behind her. Jordaine stepped forward slowly, coming to stand beside her twin at
the rail of the balcony. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly, though she
already knew in her heart, as twins were prone to do, sharing a deep connection
even 'they' didn't understand.
"I'm good. A bit tired tonight." Mira whispered softly, stretching the arch of
her back slowly with a loud pop.
"How are they?" Jordaine asked softly, her blue orbs dropping in indication to
Mira's 'very' large, protruding stomach.
Her hand dropped instinctively to her wide waist and she smiled lovingly before
she answered. "The twins are fine Auntie." she teased softly, rubbing her
fingers along the skin beneath her long maternity dress.
One of the pair kicked viciously and Mira smiled in remembrance of their own
childhood before she spoke softly again. "Looks like family traditions will
continue....." she said turning to go back inside and away from the rapidly
chilling night air.
