Sarah finished the chapter, and closed the book, staring blankly at the cover of the naked girl, collared and caged. It had been a year since Thomas had procured the trophy from Shawny, and although Thomas and Jeremy appeared in no hurry for another experience, Sarah was slightly bored with the confining routine of the house.
At first, it had surprised her that no one seemed to notice her new method of addressing the twins. She was further bewildered as first the housekeeper, then the cook, and eventually all the remaining help, began to address the young men as Master. The day Dorothy told her she thought it was a quaint tradition the boys were reestablishing, Sarah almost laughed at their misinterpretation of the secret. The twins, on the other hand, seemed to stand taller, relishing the unbidden tribute.
As time passed, her responsibilities still continued in their bedroom, but more demands were being issued on the exercise side of the dungeon. “Your ass is beginning to sag, Sarah. I want ten more leg lifts with an added five pounds.”
“Yes, Master Thomas.” Sarah’s legs were screaming, and Thomas had steadily increased the number of lifts… and more weight… every week. While Thomas was busy adding painful limits to her exercise program, Jeremy was now making new demands in the bedroom.
His latest fetish concerned her bottom, a previously unexplored access for the boys. After an uncomfortable initiation, he tended to sidetrack her several times a day, pulling her into a closet or empty room and lifting the hem of her uniform, beneath which she had been ordered not to wear undergarments, and thrusting his little organ into the tight entrance.
Thomas demanded she exercise naked, stating it was the only way he could make sure he was stressing the aging, sagging areas in need. Within a few weeks he caught her, bent over the padded waist high beam and curling twenty-pound weights to firm up her breasts. She had been concentrating on finishing the last thirty lifts, and she jumped when she felt Thomas’ hard shaft, bounce on the globes of her ass. He stroked her wet folds, making her concentrated efforts with the weights more difficult to accomplish, and she hissed when he stuck his finger passed her tight ring.
As uncomfortable as Jeremy’s small member made her, she was truly frightened at the thought of Thomas’ large shaft, and she tried to pull herself to a stand. She felt his strong arm push her forward, while he kicked her feet slightly apart. “You still have twenty-seven more lifts, Sarah.”
“Yes, Master Thomas.” Her eyes filled as a second finger squeezed into her hole, and she trembled, “Master Thomas…”
“Count the remaining lifts, Sarah.” As her mouth tried to form twenty-six, she felt the bulbous head of his cock pushed against her ring, and she expelled a low sob while he spread her cheeks with his hands. “Count, Sarah,” he demanded.
“Twenty-six, Master Thomas,” she gushed, and her strained arms lifted the weights. “Twenty… aahh,” he pushed persistently into her, tearing past the tight entrance while her hands froze with the weights at her shoulders.
“Count,” he gritted a clenched jaw demand.
“Twenty-five, Master Thomas,” she wailed. “Please, Master Thomas, it hurts…”
“I did not ask you to speak, other than to count, Sarah. You share yourself with Jeremy… you know you will share yourself with me. Now count or I will keep pounding into you.”
“Yes, Master Thomas.” Her arms shook as she lowered and lifted the weights, causing her stretched channel to tighten around his invading cock. “Twenty-four, Master Thomas.”
Thomas settled into a slow rhythm, enjoying the new experience of the restrictive passage. When Jeremy had first shared the paragraph, the previously unconsidered act had fixed in his mind. Of course, Jeremy would have the enjoyment of her tunnel first, because after Thomas had used it, they both acknowledged, she would never tighten as well for the smaller brother again.
The help had guessed at the tryst, gossiping in disgust that Sarah would use her connection as their nanny to seduce the orphaned youths, assuring herself a fine life of luxury. Thomas and Jeremy stood silently by the back stairs, listening to one such exchange between Dorothy and the maid. They gazed at each other and nodded, and a week later the help were presented with contracts to sign, stating that if any business within the Plantation were discussed in town, they all would lose their severance pay and the generous presumed funds for their retirement.
The passing years began to roll together, and the household help that had left was not replaced, with the exception of a weekly gardening service for the lawns. Dorothy had been the last to retire six months ago, after working for various owners of the Plantation for over fifty years. Now, Sarah was kept naked and accessible as she cleaned and cooked while servicing her boys’ voracious sexual appetites.
As expected, the townsfolk pried when the help vacated their service to the young men, and they were surprised by the vehement denials that anything strange occurred behind the oak doors. Sarah and Thomas merely devoted themselves to a frail Jeremy, sacrificing their own freedom for his well-being. The stories grew of the normal lives of the recluses, as the help stressed there was nothing out of the ordinary transpiring at the house. The gardener, cook and maids, were petrified gossip would reach the lawyers or occupants of the house and cost them their long earned reward.
The boys celebrated their twenty-fifth birthdays with the long awaited collaring ceremony, as they gifted each other with the slave. Sarah was forty-two, still tight figured with Thomas’ demands, and well used to following their orders. As uncomfortable as some of their requests made her, she never denied them or considered leaving the Plantation. She had not been to town in the seven years since their parents had died, and she was unaware of the murmurs and gossip surrounding their unusual relationship.
Jeremy’s artistic flair was used to design the collar, and they gazed at the leather cuff lovingly, perversely understanding a deep connection with the restraint. The wide portion that would lock around her throat was for Thomas, and the thin leather braid that inlaid and wound through the surface like a snake, forming four sturdy loops on each side, were for Jeremy. Thomas was surely the one who orchestrated her tortures, while Jeremy arranged the devious torments that compromised her mind… for as much as Sarah fantasized about Thomas’ handsome strength, it was Jeremy’s frailty that had conditioned her to remain at the Plantation for a quarter of a century.
Sarah was told to recite the passage from ‘Dominant Submission’, and once more her eyes dropped to the girl on the cover. This time, she found herself envying the wide-eyed slave, with her future with her Master decided. When the boys held out the collar, Sarah lifted her hair, the strands shot with more silver than brown. Her eyes filled with tears of joy as it was locked into place, and she felt safe and loved. “Thank you, Masters,” she managed to choke out.
As the boys delved into deeper studies, matching cuffs for her wrists and ankles were provided, and they began to finally practice with Sarah on the unique furnishings of the dungeon. Some of the devices produced screams and wails, but the restraints were not loosened until she described for Thomas precisely what she was feeling, what body parts were affected, and Jeremy scribbled notes and drew sketches.
Her skin had thin etchings of scars from Thomas’ early practice with the whip. Sarah memorized each loving mark, as he had become so proficient she was now merely left with a welt or a bruise. Their thirtieth birthday was a week away, and as Sarah finished licking Thomas’ cock clean after clenching him to completion in her walls, he ordered her finished and she lay back on the pillows between them.
Jeremy reached over to the nightstand and handed her the almost forgotten novel from more than a decade past. “Read to us, Sarah, from the chapter I have marked.”
CHAPTER IV
He was quietly standing at the glass counter, as he patiently waited for his turn to claim his watch. Although not expensive, the old wind up timepiece had been left to him by his grandfather and a spring had broken a week ago.
Just as the clerk w
as ready to approach him, a woman shoved her way beside him, clicking her sculpted nails on the glass. “Are my rings ready yet? I dropped them off this morning to be cleaned, and I need them for tonight.”
The clerk gave a conciliatory glance at him, and walked towards the back of the store to retrieve the young woman’s rings. He stared at the woman, willing himself to speak up and assert the injustice, but in the end he merely sighed, and resumed his patient, waiting stance.
The woman was familiar, and he remembered reading her offenses. She had received her trust fund when she had turned twenty-one, and had promptly quit college to become the spoiled, pampered bitch he now saw standing beside him.
It was a little more work devising his plan, but not because her home was less accessible. The sprawling one level house formed a ‘U’ around the pool, surrounded by a convenient thick forest. The problem was, the slut was never alone, and it was impossible to construct a pattern of her activities. It took two weeks for him to discover a repeat lover, a married physician who needed to leave before midnight.
He would just have to be ready, hiding in the woods, and waiting for the adulterer’s car to appear. The couple lounged by the pool after completing their deed, and he heard her thank the doctor for the prescription to help her sleep. A giddy expression passed over his face, as he watched her slap two pills into her mouth, and chase it with her watered down drink.
An hour later, he stood inside the glass doors of her bedroom, watching her sway her head in whatever drug fogged nightmare was chasing her. Binding the silver tape over her eyes and mouth was almost too easy, as she did not try to fight until both her wrists were secured together and being tied over her head.
Even her weak attempts at kicking out with her legs, was a dismal reminder that she may not be coherent enough to appreciate his attentions. In the morning she would, and although he would not be there to witness her reaction, he could well imagine her response.
He slipped her rings off her finger, three thin bands set with precious stones, and he cut them apart and spread them open. A strange instinct to hum while he worked was squelched down, as he listened to her finally coming to her senses and whimpering behind the cheap gag.
He removed the heavy, curved upholstery needle from the small bottle of alcohol, and pulled and pinched her nipple to firmness. She shrieked when he pierced her tip, sawing the width until he was certain the ring would slide through. Pliers forced the circle to close, and he turned the ring so the jewel sparkled in the small beam of his flashlight.
The piercing of her second nipple had resulted in the same hearty scream, muffled so it could not be heard beyond the room. The true pleasure that thickened his cock, were the pitiful wails when he stroked her pussy. He had become more than adept at coaxing an orgasm, and her clit stood swollen and slick with her cream. He vowed to never forget the agony in her gagged shrieks, as she thrashed her head wildly and bucked in pain. The diamond looked good against her dark, groomed curls.
He found her expensive watch on the nightstand, polished gold and encrusted with gems. Two of his fingers scraped it inside her, and it drooled the last of her passionate release when he pulled his trophy of remembrance from her channel. He scanned the bedspread to make sure he had pocketed his tools, and slipped out into the moonlight. - Crucial Needs
Sarah cramped with arousal at the agony the young woman must have suffered, blindfolded and bound in terror. How Thomas would accomplish this complicated task, and which woman would benefit from his attentions, occupied her thoughts. She felt a flash of jealousy, while she stroked the men’s cocks until they softly snored on either side of her.
The next afternoon, she was dusting the foyer when Thomas passed by. “Sarah, I need to pierce you, to make sure that I am prepared for the resistance of the flesh and the struggle. Please wait on the table.”
“Yes, Master Thomas.” Sarah fairly flew to the wooden bench in the dungeon, raising her arms and spreading her legs, waiting to be secured.
Jeremy walked in with his sketchpad, and Thomas followed shortly with a small pouch. The rings were gold… real gold… and Sarah thought they were beautiful.
At thirty, Thomas was a dashing example of what Sarah decided a powerfully strong Master should look like, while Jeremy held an equally sadistic appearance, though restrained in his captivating gaze. She stared into his eyes while he secured her wrists, and looked down at Thomas when he chuckled as he locked her ankles.
“Such a treasure, you are, Sarah.” He swiped a finger through her moistness, teasing her clit for a moment until she wriggled. “You are positively dripping for us.”
“Yes, Master Thomas,” Sarah gushed. “May I see the rings?” she pleaded.
Thomas held a ring close to her face. “The pliers and cutters I bought are pneumatic, with tiny cartridges in the handles, making it easy to prepare the rings.” He laid it back down on top of the velvet pouch. “Now, I want you to lie still while Jeremy pierces you, so he can appreciate the taped experience later. When I attach the other two, I want you to struggle as much as you can. We’ll only get one chance to practice, and it’s up to you to make sure I am ready to expect my prey’s abilities.”
“Yes, Master Thomas,” Sarah smiled nervously. Trying to lie still for Jeremy would be more difficult. Jeremy was shaking as he stood over her, and Thomas patiently showed him how to use the tools. There was a small pop as the ring separated, and Jeremy smiled at his brother in triumph.
If not for the strange situation, the concentration on his thin face was almost endearing as his trembling hand approached her aroused peak. Thomas’ expression became concerned for his brother and, though scared, Sarah decided to offer encouragement. “Master Jeremy, that ring will be special, because no other woman will be pierced by you. I’ll always know the ring on my left side, over my heart and on the side that you sleep, is yours.”
Jeremy set his jaw in determination, and Sarah glanced at Thomas’ appreciative expression. Two thin fingers stretched her tight nub, and he slid the sharp needle through her tip. Despite herself, she jerked and gasped at the pain, but bit her bottom lip so as not to distract him until he finished. The threading of the ring was very painful, and she was relieved when the pressure of the pliers sealing the ring had ended. She looked down at the shining metal while Jeremy gazed at it, and stroked it lightly with his finger. “Thank you, Thomas,” he murmured.
Jeremy began to sketch and take notes when Thomas approached her. Remembering his instructions, Sarah began to squirm and pull at her bindings. She panicked briefly as she thought of Thomas, alone in the dark, with an inappreciative, uncontrollable woman fighting him. She renewed her efforts, and bucked and thrashed her way through the piercing, shrieking true screams after he brought her to climax and slid the needle through her sensitive, engorged bead.
The jewelry was placed and she lay meekly staring at Thomas’ sweating form while the brothers communicated in silence. Finally, Thomas turned back to her. “That was excellent, Sarah. The time we spend exercising has made you strong enough to match any woman I may have to contend with.”
Sarah fairly preened with the praise, even as her nipples and pussy throbbed around her new rings. “Thank you, Master Thomas.”
Their birthday passed, and then Sarah’s own forty-seventh had arrived. For the first time in many years, she gazed into the hall mirror while she polished it. The face looking back at her was sagging around her once firm jaw, and deep wrinkles etched through the skin at the sides of her eyes. Underneath, her fingers pushed slightly blue pouches, and she looked at her long, gray hair.
Jeremy stood quietly watching her, and within moments Thomas appeared at his side. They watched the woman who had been their caretaker, their first lover, their first slave… as her world melted around her, fading with her looks. Their dark eyes met with matched alarm at her depression. She should know that no one could replace their dear Sarah.
Thomas had begun weekly trips to town, meeting with the lawyers
and accountants for updates, and visiting an old Mr. McFarland at the newspaper. He was widowed now, and saddled with a neurotic college dropout daughter who fidgeted around the paper, trying to complete simple tasks. Shawny had the strung out look of a worn woman, and baggy pants and sweaters had replaced her seductive, short skirts. Her days of taunting and teasing were well in the past.
A woman approached him as he unlocked the car, and she leaned across the fender and smiled at him. Thomas was positive she had been one of the debutants flaunted before him twelve years ago. She held out a bejeweled hand, and his eyes widened briefly at the rings on every finger… even her thumb.
“You’re Thomas Kinsey, aren’t you? It’s been a few years, and from what I’ve gathered, you’re not a frequent visitor to town. I’m Lisa Morgan. We met about a dozen years ago, after your parents died.”
“Lisa,” he smiled, and he watched her cat-like stare as she planned her trap to ensnare him. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you. Of course, we only met that one time, and I had been away at school for years before the accident. Sarah and I are kept busy caring for my brother, but I try to make it to town when I can.”
Her pasted on smile, faltered. “Oh yes, Sarah. Wasn’t she your nanny, or something? My god, she must be ancient.”
Thomas managed to maintain his pleasant countenance as he envisioned grabbing her dark waves and smashing her face into the hood of the car. How dare she insult Sarah? The stupid cunt could not hold a candle to her. “Sarah’s doing well, and she’s certainly not old. She was quite young when she came to work for my parents.”
Lisa was well aware of the gossip in town, and decided to improve her position against the woman who had kept the rich men sequestered to herself all these years. “That’s right. She came from Bridgeville, on the other side of the tracks. It’s so nice to hear that one of those unfortunate people managed to escape their poverty and do well as a servant. I understand her father was a terrible drinker, and abused the children mercilessly. It’s curious that Sarah was not more marked by him.”
Six Masters Island - Perverse Intentions Page 4
