Rochester Mansion- The Complete Series

by Jason Hutchinson

  “This place is so cool.” She said, bringing his eyes back up. “Have you found any secret passages or anything?”

  Mike laughed. “This isn’t a movie, Aimee. It’s just an old house.”

  She turned, pausing on the top step to face him, her eyes lit with excitement. “No, there’s a LOT of history to this house, Mike. It’s one of the reasons its been boarded up so long. There were lots of rumors about the last guy that owned it.”

  Mike and Eliza had only lived in the area a year or so when they divorced, so what Aimee was saying came as news to him.

  “Interesting. I’ll have to look it up.”

  “Can we go this way?” Aimee asked, branching off to the hallway on the left that led to the master suite and bath. It was one of the rooms that needed the most work.

  “Yeah, just be careful. The floorboards are weak in some spots.”

  As Aimee headed off in that direction, Mike’s attention was dragged from the girl’s ass to a sound from the servant’s stairs. He veered off, poking his head into the darkened opening and tuning his ears.

  Nothing.

  “Wow!”

  Mike heard Aimee’s voice and started back towards the bedroom.

  “Looks like you’ve got at least one room finished.”

  Aimee’s voice was awed. Maybe she’s just digging the architecture, he thought, coming around the corner to the master bedroom’s doorway.

  The sight that met him was not at all what he was expecting.

  Chapter Two

  Aimee was standing there, facing him, surrounded by a master bedroom suite that was perfect and finished in every way. A fire burned in the central fireplace drawing his eye. As it wandered, he saw the four-poster bed, elegant wallpaper and antique furniture that would have cost a dozen times more than he had paid for the house itself.

  It wasn’t the most unexpected thing, though.

  The most unexpected thing was a bright flash of creamy-white skin as Aimee pulled her white t-shirt up over her head, dragging her long, red pony tail out last before discarding it on the floor.

  “Please allow me to submit myself to you, Master.”

  Mike stood dumbfounded in the doorway, trying to process the fact that Aimee’s hands had moved to the elastic of her sports bra; which seemed to be holding in a remarkable pair of breasts.

  “Aimee, what are you…”

  Mike’s rational mind tried to question the young woman’s odd actions but was quickly overruled by his libido. The two of them had seemed to be a little flirtatious here and there, though he had always read it as just a way to break the ice. Rebuffed, his rational mind moved to another subject; why the master bedroom that just this morning should have been condemned was opulent and fully decorated. His rational mind wasn’t getting very much processor time, though. That was being used up by his ego and libido, eagerly awaiting the imminent release of her breasts.

  “I give all that is me to you, for your service and your pleasure, Master.”

  The words were overshadowed by her breasts finally making an appearance. Her youth gave them as much perkiness as possible considering their magnificent size. Mike was dumfounded as she slowly dropped to her knees on what appeared to be a fur rug at the foot of the bed. She crossed her wrists behind her back, those incredible breasts jutting forward naturally.

  A thousand memories of I would do this and I’d grab her by went through Mike’s brain, fantasy conversations of old with no root in reality. In reality, he was speechless, as if totally paralyzed by what was going on around him.

  The girl knelt there, soft green eyes on his own, an unfamiliar look focusing them.

  “Aimee, I…”

  Those green eyes shifted to determination. “If you are unwilling to accept my submission without evidence that I can serve you, I am ready to give my all to convince you…”

  “Convince me?” Mike said. It was supposed to be a question, but from the look in Aimee’s eyes, it had been taken as a command. She lifted her ass off her heels and came forward to close the two-foot gap between them on her knees, a wicked smile forming on her pretty lips.

  “I could start by sucking your cock.” She whispered, staring up at him. “If that would be okay, Master.”

  Mike’s mind was still frozen and the thaw didn’t even start in earnest until Aimee’s nimble fingers were slipping under the waistband of his underwear and around the rapidly-growing circumference of his shaft. He could feel the tension in his muscles being amplified by the stream of thoughts crashing through his brain. This definitely should be something he put more consideration into, yet he was doing nothing to stop it. Any option of weighing the pros and cons of what was happening were taken off the table the moment her eyes met his, lips hovering near the head of his cock, her breath causing it to twitch slightly.

  “May I please show you, Mike?”

  A moment’s reflection had nothing to do with deciding whether to grant the young beauty’s odd request. Things had proceeded well beyond any proverbial tipping point. The pause was simply to allow his brain to capture the moment’s anticipation for perfect recall later.

  Puppy-dog eyes were still pleading with him as he felt his own movement; sluggish and distinct as if guided by someone else. Fingertips registered the heat of the base of Aimee’s neck as they shuttled across it, slowly pressing her gorgeous lips over the throbbing head of his cock as they migrated upward enough to circle the base of her fiery pony tail.

  The odd sensation of a wave rushing through him and into the house returned as his body was overwhelmed at the unexpected encounter. Aimee herself was still in control as her lips engulfed his shaft in the heat of her mouth. Mike’s hand was just following as the beauty’s eyes struggled to keep contact with his own until the last moment. His cock throbbed in her mouth, immobilized by the tight connection, leaving no room to discern where the touch of her lips left off and the touch of her tongue commenced. It was a dream-like bliss; the continuity only broken when the head of his shaft touched the back of her throat, triggering a gentle spasm.

  Mike gently eased Aimee’s head back, noting that her hands had never moved from their submissive position, even as he had gagged her. She gasped softly for air as his cock emerged from between her glossy lips. The look of disappointment in her eyes chilled him, setting his mind back to racing. This shouldn’t be happening.

  “Please. I can do better.” Aimee whispered.

  This time, her lips began their previous journey all over again without his guidance.

  We’ve flirted, Mike thought. This has actually been building for a while, hasn’t it? The only thing that made his mind reject that assessment was the room itself. Even though his eyes were still on Aimee’s as she made a second pass at his cock, his mind’s eye was examining what he had seen before becoming so sorely distracted. The gutted-out room from this morning was gone, replaced by a showpiece from a magazine.

  All of Mike’s other trains of thought were derailed when Aimee’s gag reflex triggered again. In response this time, Mike found himself exerting a little pressure on the base of her pony tail, forcing the tip of his cock into the somewhat tighter passage of her throat.

  “Christ.” Mike groaned. It slipped out involuntarily and he followed it with something he considered way more in character. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

  Nothing seemed to be too much. Mike watched the action below his waist as if it were a point-of-view camera shot. He was flooded with the sensation of it, but it still didn’t seem real. A moment after feeling Aimee’s gorgeous lips nestle themselves in his pubic hair, he was fucking that tight throat with long, deliberate strokes, catching the light of pleasure in her beautiful eyes with each piston-like motion.

  Chapter Three

  Dawn came through the stained-glass window like a kaleidoscope, drawing intricate and vividly-colored shapes that distracted him for a moment from where he was.

  Mike’s eyes finally adjusted as his body finished processing its own
senses. The bed was soft and warm, which was a sharp contrast from how he had been waking up in the mornings, frigid in his sleeping bag down in the main foyer. His half-blurry eyes panned across the room, announcing that he hadn’t been dreaming or hallucinating its miraculous transformation.

  A grunt and a snuffle of hot air on his chest brought the whole thing back into perspective. If the room was decorated and gorgeous, there was a nineteen-year-old redhead pressed against his side, her leg wrapped around his like a python. Images flashed in his eyes like a movie trailer, spoiling all the highlights of the previous night that couldn’t have ended more than a few hours ago. A sheen of sweat could still be felt along the borderline of their bare flesh; the contact hot and electric. What had initially felt like roleplay had continued on thematically throughout the time they had been together. Her submissiveness wasn’t just a game, it was deep and sincere to the point where he had to limit her attempts to please him.

  As odd and unexpected as it seemed, Mike knew that he had no intention of letting her go. Fuck Eliza and fuck Larry. Aimee hadn’t exactly been a cheerleader for either of them and especially not Eliza. In fact, reflection was bringing back countless memories of Aimee opening up to him, sharing her heart. Had he just not noticed, or had his own wish to tamp down his attraction to her clouded his own feelings and desires?

  Mike spent the morning enjoying the heat between them, both physically and in his own emotions. Each small movement and sound endeared her to him even more. The only niggling thought to mar the experience was the thought of how she would react when she awoke. Had this just been the impulsivity of youth, or was it something that was going to last?

  “Thank you, Master.”

  The whisper was so low he had to replay it in his head for it to become clear.

  “You’re awake.” He sighed.

  “Yes, Master.” Aimee breathed, shifting her head and bringing those gorgeous eyes to bear against his again.

  Mike smiled. “I’m not sure if I can take the Master thing all the time.”

  Aimee’s eyes flashed and it disturbed him a bit. “I’m sorry…M…”

  Aimee’s words choked off as if she were lost.

  “How about Mike?”

  She smiled. “That’s fair…Mike.”

  Mike laughed, but it was short-lived. His time-honed thoughts slipped out. “Look, if you don’t want to stay, I completely understand. I…”

  Aimee pressed two fingers gently against his lips. “Why wouldn’t I want to stay?” She asked, the look in her eyes nothing but genuine. “That was the most incredible night of my life.”

  Mike felt the wash of pleasure flood over him as Aimee shifted her weight, bringing the sheet up off his body as she rose to her knees. “Could I…” She whispered, with a surprising degree of shyness, considering the events of the previous evening.

  “I’m not sure if…yeah.” Mike said, one hand following the muscle of her thigh as she threw it over his legs. Any fears that he had about being able to perform were quickly dispelled as she towered beautifully above him, the sheet sliding down her perfect back, unveiling the magnificent sculpture that was her body.

  Chapter Four

  Whatever had happened to the master bedroom had extended to the upstairs bath as well. After Aimee’s kiss-filled departure, he had wanted to focus on that particular mystery; having deliberately avoided it in conversation with her. All he knew for sure; it was supernatural. There was no other explanation. He had always been annoyed in the past at shows where the main character is completely dismissive of anything out of their scope of understanding, despite overwhelming evidence. Someone came in secretly and finished the bedroom? When, and more importantly, why would anyone do that? The same went for the bathroom. He had a vague memory of going in there some time in the middle of the night and more distinctly that he had remembered the plumbing wasn’t functional and had resolved to hold it.

  He spent about three hours going from room to room in the house, starting in the basement, but nothing out of the ordinary extended beyond those two rooms upstairs. The basement was as damp and musty as it had always been and the draft in the kitchen could have been measured with an anemometer. He was so deep in thought, staring at the paneling of the main stairs that it took him a minute to recognize the chirp of his phone.

  Dragging it out of his back pocket, he read a text from Aimee.

  So much fun last night. Would it be creepy if I came back by later?

  Creepy wasn’t the word that immediately came to Mike’s mind. Grateful? Ecstatic? Much better choices. He unlocked the screen and brought up his messaging app, showing that he hadn’t read the complete message.

  A friend of mine really wants to see the place too. Just for a few, though; then we can be alone.

  The emojis following her words reminded him of her age but he didn’t care. His response was the same, even with the additional information.

  I’d like that a lot.

  Mike considered typing more but couldn’t wrap his head around what he wanted to say. It’ll be fine at that, he thought.

  More emojis followed in Aimee’s response, leaving Mike with a smile on his face as he went on with his inspection of the house. The stairs themselves really needed work. If he was going to take advantage of whatever had happened upstairs and use the bedroom, he figured it behooved him to make sure the stairway was a little more secure than it had been. I did manage to lay my finger open on it yesterday, he thought.

  As he came around the front side of the stairs his eyes went from the finial to his own fingertip, where the flesh was completely unharmed.

  “Weird shit.” He whispered. A sudden thought bugged him. Are hallucinations a side-effect of radon or something? It was fleeting enough that he didn’t bother to look it up as he was normally wont to do. “Get over it, Mike.”

  The conversation continued in his head because it seemed too odd echoing in the mostly empty house.

  You’re dating Aimee.

  Well, ‘dating’ is yet to be seen.

  Okay, then you’re fucking Aimee.

  The house, though.

  You’re fucking Aimee.

  The rooms somehow mysteriously…Yeah, fucking Aimee. I get it.

  Mike’s palm rested on the top of the finial and he crouched down a bit, lining his view up the slope of the bannister to get an estimate of how much it was bowing outward. It was significant, but that wasn’t the key take-away of the glance. The thing that struck him the most was the odd crease about eight feet up the rail. He climbed the rickety steps to where it was. Less of a crease than a chipped spot, he thought, prepared to dismiss it.

  The more he looked at it, though, the less it looked like normal wear. It looked as if the two separate pieces of rail had been grinding against each other, over and over again. Normally the seam between two boards would be hidden well with stain and varnish, never to move again after mounting.

  Mike stepped over to the other side of the stairs, finding a less damaged, yet very similar crease on the other railing.

  “The fuck?” He whispered.

  The next few hours were a frustrating exercise in futility.

  Chapter Five

  “But just for a few minutes, right?” Aimee asked, turning to her friend. The car was pulling out of the university parking lot, the blonde behind the wheel glancing over her shoulder between the seats as she reversed.

  “Like, totally.” She said, flashing blue eyes in Aimee’s direction.

  Aimee had seen a million looks from Tiff before and she knew this one. Mischief. They had been close friends since middle school, if she was honest with herself, not as close as they had once been.

  Boys.

  Boys were the cause of that, but definitely not something she was going to give up. Well, maybe, she thought, thinking of Mike. Men are an entirely different story. There had been some struggle between the two of them with regards to the opposite sex, though nothing that had ever been spoken aloud. The blonde was
definitely the more traditionally beautiful of the two, at least in Aimee’s opinion.

  “I just want to see the inside of it.” Tiff said, craning her neck to check the oncoming traffic before pulling out into the street. “So, are you and this guy…you know?”

  Aimee felt the blush as it reddened her face. “Yeah, kinda.”

  “Kinda doesn’t sound very solid.”

  “It’s complicated.” Aimee said.

  “Well, spill it. We’ve got twenty minutes. Give me all the dirty details and I promise I’ll only stay a few minutes before I get an ‘emergency’ call and have to ditch you there.”