Where was I going with this? Did I really know? I hadn’t faced my fears or my hopes properly yet. Everything had been too messed up. Too hurried. And so many surprises.
Jodie had turned into such a Domme with Steph.
I liked that. Kink was more fun when things were changing. But this wasn’t BDSM any more, was it? If it wasn’t completely consensual it wasn’t truly BDSM. I could make Steph enjoy it. I’d proved that. But the little looks she gave me, the ones I’d caught anyway, were half-fear, half-curiosity. How to convert her to full on acceptance? Because that was my aim, wasn’t it? Trust her, get her to trust me then let her go.
A seagull landed a few yards in front of me and gave me a once-over with one yellow eye before pattering off across the sand toward a dead fish. Even the seagulls suspected me of something bad today.
And yet, this was necessary for Jodie and I to stay here, free and able to enjoy our life. History had precedents. Grabbing Steph and making her our toy wasn’t exactly normal
now
, but go back to earlier societies and it would be. Society and its perception of what was wrong and what was right changed depending on what was best for it, for the people of the time.
If a Viking had someone take his woman and make her drunk so as to fuck her, like Leon had, like Stephanie had condoned, he would consider it his right to take revenge. People would die under his axe and that would be the correct justice.
Laws were made so the biggest group of people came out on top. Looked at that way, I was doing what was right for
my
people—for Jodie and me. Was that enough though? Was I happy, as Jodie had asked me? Fucked if I knew. Happiness came and happiness went. Life handed you shit and you either turned belly-up or you made something out of it that was far better than shit stew.
When I’d had our little captive this morning, I’d wanted to fuck her ass. I sucked in a hard breath, held it, thought. Yeah, I still did. My cock twitched at the idea even. If this wasn’t making the best of a bad situation, I didn’t know what was. Something about having Steph under my utter control pushed all my dials into overload. Very like when Jodie and I had tried out capture fantasy, only perhaps a shade darker.
I stood and brushed sand off the back of my pants then trudged up through the trees. From BDSM I’d learnt control, hadn’t I? This wasn’t just my baser desires taking me over, it was me doing what would give us the best outcome. I paused and shut my eyes. Getting to make a woman crawl before me, kiss my cock, and suck it into her mouth on command…sticking it into her little asshole and fucking her there and then…that was all just collateral damage slash side benefit. Wasn’t it?
I coughed to clear the obstruction my throat had acquired. My dick was awkwardly positioned and painfully erect. Figured. Maybe I should hold back and see where I could go with Steph without letting my dick have its way?
I crossed the road, barefoot, shoes in hand, feeling the warmth of the sun in the asphalt on the road. Maybe. Hold back, not touch our little slave, for a while. My dick was going to be unhappy.
That night I arrived home, opened the door, and there were both Steph and Jodie in position as requested by me. My subconscious had somehow forgotten to remind me to cancel this event. I blinked, walked forward, and did my obligatory inspection, running my hands over both of them, over the sumptuous rising mounds of their bottoms. The temptation was too much.
When I played and pulled the butt plug out by a half inch then let it pop back in, Steph whimpered.
“Use the next size up in two days.”
Jodie turned her head. “Yes, Sir.”
I had a last good look at the diamantes winking on the end of the plug then at the glistening line of her cleft drawn between her legs where her swollen labia met. Getting Jodie to wait like this always got her aroused and wet. Was this the sign of a submissive? I put my hand on her, draped one finger right down the middle on her moisture then let the length of my finger slip between her lips. Steph made a small noise. The muscles of her cunt moved in—the automatic response of a woman waiting for a man to fuck her.
God damn. I wanted to unzip myself and put my cock in her. But I took my hand away and resisted teasing her some more. Restraint was my own order to myself.
My fingers shone with her wetness.
Be good, man.
I stepped back.
“Nothing for you tonight either, gorgeous.” I pulled Jodie to her feet and kissed the top of her head. Nothing spoke of control more than wanting something and denying yourself.
Even if I wasn’t going to do anything to Steph, it would reinforce my authority to have them perform this welcome, so I left my order in place. Each day I’d just steel myself to be greeted this way. I smiled inside. Not exactly a chore. But I needed to get everything in my head lined up, one, two, three. No more going charging off like a maddened rhinoceros. I’d deal with the camera footage too, on the weekend, when I could be thorough.
On Wednesday, the newspapers finally reported that a Miss Stephanie Parker was missing and presumed involved in the deaths at the Edante mansion. Police were again hoping for public help and would anyone with information please contact them. A relative of the missing woman, Thom Parker, was flying in from Switzerland.
I sat back in my office chair when I read that on the PC screen. Damn. She had family. Though it was to be expected, somehow this made her more of a person. More someone who should have my sympathy than someone I needed to manipulate until they did what I wanted them to.
Or someone I just fucked because I wanted to? I rubbed my temples where the hint of a headache was thumping in. I needed a distraction. Extreme exercise was the best solution. The adrenalin would wash away the crap in my head and let me think clearly.
So I volunteered Chris for another session—one of the great benefits of being the boss. Half an hour to fight. Twenty to dress and recover, tops. We skipped a proper lunch and worked through it most days anyway. This would get the cobwebs blown from both our stodgy accountants’ brains.
We retrieved our gear and made our way up to the park.
“Make this three days a week? Regular?” I faced Chris after a few obligatory stretches.
“Sure.” He grinned. “That’s if your old bones can take it.”
“Fuck you, you little upstart.” I smiled back.
Not that Chris was little. He topped me by an inch even if our musculature and fitness were similar. The man was more dedicated to his fighting than me though. Three disciplines? And he’d tried freestyle bouts for a while too. Those were nasty. You could get your spine kicked out of you, let alone your teeth.
“See if you can really show me what you can do today. Show me your worst.”
“My worst? You don’t want that, man.”
“Okay, enough to impress me then. I feel the need. Work is bugging me at the moment. Just remember I need to be able to type after.”
“Okay.” He nodded and settled into the lithe ready stance of a man looking for a fight to begin and ready to take advantage of whatever flaws showed in an opponent. “Let’s do this.”
We approached each other. My muscles, my awareness were hyped, prepared.
Prepared for anything except the raw violence he unleashed.
Within seconds, after a flurry of mock hits, of blows that never followed through, of dancing, we got into it and exchanged real hits. One of his fists thumped through my defense into my side, a second glanced off my jaw and then I was taken down to the ground and wrapped in a headlock with his fist drawn back and quivering. He glared down at me.
“One hit and your throat would be crushed and you’d be dead before anyone could do a thing.” The feral gleam in his gaze almost caressed me. “I’d do it too. If I had to.”
I’d never seen such utter honesty in such a moment before. If you could judge lethality in a man’s words and actions, Chris was a man who could kill.
Then he released me.
We scrambled to our feet and slapped each other’s hands. “That one’s yours,” I said wryly. From the sting and liquid cooling on my chin I was bleeding. I wiped at it, and yes, blood marked the back of my hand. “Damn. That’s going to impress the clients.”
As if a few seconds before he’d not been growling death threats, Chris nodded, chuckling. “You’ve got street fighting cred now.”
“And accountants need that? I guess I’m behind the times. Let’s go back to lessons. I’ll take you on again in a month.”
The rest of the training went quickly, though I could feel my lip swelling.
At the office afterward, we changed and showered then Chris rummaged in the staff freezer for our ice pack. “Bit late to do the most good. You might get a bruise from that.”
“I’ll live.” I wrapped a towel over the pack and applied it to my throbbing face. The small mirror on the wall showed some bruising all right. “Lucky you didn’t break my jaw.”
“No. I’m accurate. I wouldn’t have.” He perched his butt on the kitchen counter next to the sink. “Are you coming to the next play party with Jodie? Next weekend?”
I grimaced. Even if we just watched, somehow talking BDSM with people who followed the rules of safe, sane, and consensual did not seem wise. Not with what I had happening back at my house.
“No. Jodie and I have decided to stay away from get-togethers for the time being.”
“Yeah? Kat was only asking about you two today.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “She was? That’s Kat. For her, giving up is not an option. Maybe it’s best for her too if we stay away?”
“Maybe. I’ve got a question for you about kink if it’s not too off base.” I nodded and he continued. “I’ve heard what you said about you and Jodie acting out that capture fantasy for months and, you know, I wish I had a lady who wanted to try that out. Any hints?”
Where was this going? “Normally you’d have to ease into a D/s relationship first. We already knew each other, but Jodie is a bit unique. Her idea was, let’s say, startling to me.” I smiled.
“Startling? Yeah, for sure.”
“Keep looking. You need someone who’s more than a casual partner at a play party, though.”
“Yes. I was just curious. You’re a lucky man. Sounds like a really intense experience.”
The dark steadiness in his gaze said more than merely curious to me. Though I couldn’t pin it down, it resembled whatever had shone from them in that crystalline moment when he’d held me down and declared death had arrived. I guess Chris was another accountant with hidden depths.
“Yes, it was intense. More than you can imagine.”
“I can imagine a lot, Klaus.” He tapped his head. “I like using my head to think through situations well before they happen. That helps with work too. I believe it makes me a better accountant. Anyway, keep that pack on your face for ten minutes. I’ll tell Marjorie to hold the fort while I go buy you some analgesics.”
The rest of the week went past slowly. Painfully slowly. Going celibate was not something I did often. Thank god.
I told Steph about her stepbrother arriving on the day he got off the plane and she looked both sad and regretful. Tough. I couldn’t afford to let it bother me.
But it did. The more I thought about it, the more it did. This was a real person we had kidnapped. A real woman with friends out there and a family. With hopes for her future.
So I ignored her as best I could while keeping her in our bed each night and supervising how Jodie handled her. If anything, I was growing more distant from Stephanie emotionally. Not good. Also not good was Jodie’s puzzlement that I wouldn’t make love to her, or allow her and Steph to.
Jodie domming Steph was fascinating, but only if I was in the equation. Messy perhaps? Confusing? I had to sort my head out. The weekend loomed. I needed time to think and Saturday would be it. Crunch time. Get the data sorted and set in place a true plan. Before had been a rush job. Facts, facts, and more facts. None of this random jerk-of-the-knee crap.
I set out on Friday night what I’d go through and at eight o’clock, Saturday morning, I began work in the study. I let Jodie go out for a jog while Steph was locked up downstairs in the room.
First, the news reports. The most up to date I could find would never tell me precisely what the police were doing, but it was the best I could do.
Some reporter had leaked laboratory reports on the post mortems. Leon’s new drug was GHB. It had been detected in both his body and Melissa’s. Well then. I sat back in my chair. Nothing new there. What a loser. I did some research into it and found that some people used it recreationally to get a high, as well as it being a date rape drug.
The cops were livid about the info leak. To be expected. I moved on. Nothing else was amazing or new on that front, except a picture of Stephanie. It was being displayed on most news sites. She was pretty, even innocent looking. The articles were discussing what she might have done. Most thought she’d murdered them somehow then run away.
Of us, there was no mention, of course. If there was suspicion we’d have cops hammering on our door.
I ran through what I’d found out about passports and escaping the country illegally. A friend of a friend had done some digging. It was doable. No matter what, I would set that in motion. Ecuador seemed a possible destination to end up. But it was a dangerous place—a last resort.
Main option. Us. Staying here. Not running. I tapped my fingers on my desk, thinking. We still couldn’t just let her loose. And really, if we did, it would have to be somewhere else. Maybe even outside the country. Her picture was out there now. I’d need to set her up somewhere else. Doable. Just expensive. And no way was I going to hand over money without being sure of her loyalty.
Then there was the question of her smartness. That was something I had to doubt considering her history. She’d wandered about from job to job like a lobotomized ant. Being loyal to us wouldn’t do us much good if she bloopered and said something stupid that gave away who she was. We’d be taking such a chance with our lives that my heart was in my mouth just thinking about doing that—setting her loose.
I wondered, was there anywhere overseas we could place her that would keep her happily and yet never let her go? I propped elbow on desk and leaned on my palm. A young Caucasian woman, given to someone overseas? Slave meat for sure. She’d be a whore servicing a hundred men a day after she arrived. A stupid idea…but still, it wouldn’t hurt to keep it in mind. There might be somewhere safe. I wrote it down on my
possibles
list.