Seasons Universe Recurring Character Outline
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Season Of Darkness free porn video
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Season of Darkness
By Rose Too
Clouds darkened the afternoon sky as the long, black
limousine idled in front of the boutique. Darla sat in the
driver seat awaiting the arrival of Jane Thompson. She was
dressed in her chauffeur's uniform with her cap sitting on
top of her long blonde hair. The sharply-tailored uniform
on her very female shaped figure was eye catching in the
extreme. Jane Thompson emerged from the boutique, and was
helped into the limousine by the store's doorman. Inside,
she barely took notice of her newest toy boy/girl, who
knelt on the Lincoln's floor, her face lowered. Once seated
and her packages loaded, she curtly ordered Darla to take
her home. Now finished shopping for her latest accessories,
the Mistress of Seasons House was ready to return to her
home for more fun and games.
Darla carefully maneuvered into the covered drive of the
Victorian castle-like mansion near the shores of
Narragansett Bay - a place that she had once called home.
Inside the foyer, Jane stripped off the floor-length mink
she'd worn for her shopping trip, revealing the black
leather governess dress that her slave toy and Darla had so
carefully laced about her that morning. At the base of the
stairs waited Jane's partner-in-crime, Sheila Roberts.
Sheila's own gown of ebony latex held her surgically
enhanced body in a firm grip. Beside the older woman, her
slave, Caitlyn, wearing a French maid's uniform, knelt and
offered a tray with a large brandy up to Jane.
"Jane dear, welcome home." Sheila purred in a wickedly
sweet voice.
Jane accepted the offering and sipped, enjoying the smooth
burn of the expensive, aged liqueur... "Darla, take my new
toys down to the training room," she ordered, handing her
'daughter' the leash her slave was wearing, "I want some
exercise. Oh, Sheila? Look at this."
Sheila took the flogger Jane held and read the tag out
loud, "Safe, sane and con... consensual?" Sheila and Jane
burst into laughter as they started down the stairs towards
the slave pens in the basement.
Both the stairs and the slave pens were dark-lit by
flickering red lights that cast eerie, almost frightening
shadows against the black-painted chamber walls. There was
an 'ambiance' about the place that successfully put even
the newest slaves in what the two slave-mistresses
considered to be the 'right frame of mind'.
Jane's experienced eyes swept the cages, taking in every
nuance, every small change since her last visit. In Sheila
and Jane's world, a knowledgeable observer could easily
determine the progress of each slave - from those just
arrived - still in dirty ragged clothes and still looking
like boys caged at the far end of the dungeon - to the
feminine slaves garbed in fine, if trampy silks and satins,
housed closest to the base of the stairs. They were the
sluts who were in all ways ready for their new owners to
whom they would soon be sold.
At Jane's snapped command, all of the new slaves were
herded from their cages. They did not pose any threat to
the two women for they had not been fed in the three days
since the men that drove the black van had grabbed them off
the street. Ordered to strip away their filthy rags, they
were all shoved into the communal shower area. A gurgle
could be heard and then a spray of soapy water rained down
and out from the ceiling and walls to clean the dirt and
other waste from their bodies. One tried to escape but
Sheila was quick and vicious with her whip, and he was back
in line, but with a bleeding cut across his thigh dripping
down his leg.
"You all failed miserably in life as males, you should be
grateful to us that we are willing to let you have a second
chance - this time to live as females under our gentle
tutelage," Jane sternly addressed the shivering mass of
young boys. Jane took back the leash from Darla and
caressed her slave's arm. "We will be kind to those who
learn their lessons well but at the same time, very harsh
indeed to those who resist us," she promised in silky
tones.
Sheila pushed a lever and a hidden partition moved aside,
revealing a figure standing upright, arms and legs akimbo,
chained to the far wall. "Now if you choose to fight your
lessons, we know how to deal with bad children, don't we,
darling?"
Kendra slowly painfully raised her head, the make-up on her
face would make the trashiest street walker look classy,
her face a mask of misery and despair. Although as yet
lacking in experience in such things, the staring boys knew
without being told that the corset around her waist nearly
cutting her in half.
Suddenly, the front doors imploded into the house in a
maelstrom of light and sound. In rushed a charge led by
Barbara Anne Braithwaite, followed by Marie, Sandy, Carol
and Betty Franson. At the rearguard of this force of angry
women were Edith White riding on a tank with Her Majesty
Queen Elizabeth, Nancy Reagan, Mother Theresa and Mary
Poppins. Following the tank was Judge Ruth flanked by Diana
and Art.
In the confusion of that moment, Jane's slave toy jerked
her leash from Jane's hand and looked up at the older
woman, rage, fear and a myriad of other dark emotions
coloring her youthful features. Jane Thompson looked down
at the face of Adrienne Braithwaite.
As the commotion continued around them, Sheila suddenly
appeared at Jane's side, and grabbed her hand.
Determinedly, the rubber-clad woman tried to drag her
partner towards another set of downward stairs that
miraculously appeared at the end of the dungeon.
That was the moment that Jane noticed the bloody hole in
Sheila's breast. "What is going on here?" Jane demanded,
now fighting against the steady pull on her arm.
Sheila smiled - a dark, humorless and malevolent smile "I'm
dead, Janey, remember? I'm taking you to Hell with me, like
you deserve."
And the only sound amid the chaos was Sheila's evil, eerily
demonic laugh
---
Art was jerked from a peaceful sleep as Jane thrashed
violently in their bed. The nightmare that held Jane in its
thrall looked like it was worse than those he had gone
through since his return from Bosnia. Fear for his spouse
clogged his throat as Art grabbed her by the arms and shook
her to break the hold this nightmare had on her. "Jane!
Janey! C'mon, wake up, - it's not real! Wake up! Come back
to me!" Art urged calmly, but forcefully.
Jane's eyes flew open, still fighting the demon who was
pulling her toward the pit, when she realized that it was
Art and not Sheila who held her. Relief burned through her
as she threw her arms around her lover, while Art simply
held on all the while murmuring words of love and
reassurance. Finally, Jane calmed down, and then she pushed
her way free.
Jane said nothing as she ran to the bathroom. Following,
Art was frustrated at finding the door locked. As Art was
about to pound on the door to find out what was bothering
his wife, the door opened. Jane emerged looking pale and
shaken.
"What happened in that nightmare? I've never seen you so
frightened." asked Art while pouring a small brandy for
Jane.
It took every scrap of courage and discipline she'd
developed in all her years of working with troubled
children, but Jane accepted the brandy and began to
describe the terror of the night she had experienced.
Art said nothing during his wife's recital, letting her
tell the story as she would, even though her tears cut him
to his soul. When he was sure she'd finished, he took her
hand and kissed it. "Yes I can see, being dragged to Hell
can be frightening."
"Oh it was not that." Jane interrupted, batting away the
fresh spate of tears with her free hand... "It was what I
had done - what I had become - that scared me so badly. I
had joined with Sheila, had become LIKE Sheila," Jane said
the energy visibly draining from her.
"I guess that Ruth's description of Sheila's activities and
then her murder affected you more than we thought."
Jane rose and put on her robe. "I need to get some fresh
air," she stated as she left the bedroom.
Art knew his woman well enough to let her go alone. She'd
be safe enough on her own property, and a short passage of
solitude would help her begin to put things back in
perspective.
Quietly exiting the house, Jane at first wandered aimlessly
about the moon-shadowed grounds. After a time, she found
herself at the entrance to the stables. She peeked inside
but saw that Teddie and Garters were soundly sleeping. "You
two have better sense than I do," she murmured lovingly.
She left as quietly as she'd entered, and resumed her walk,
this time with a definite destination in mind. In short
order, she was surrounded by the familiar perfume of her
beloved rose garden. Tired physically, mentally and
spiritually, Jane seated herself on a bench to collect her
thoughts.
"I thought I would find you here," Jane started at the
sound of Diane's voice. "As I recall you telling me, this
is where you had that long talk with Old Tom after your big
show down with Sheila for Kenneth's soul," said Diane
taking a seat on a bench next to Jane.
"Showdown?" Jane asked, a touch of humor coming back into
her voice. "You sound like Darryl, although he actually
said I acted like Gary Cooper."
"ACTUALLY," Diana teased, "Darryl said you were like John
Wayne, and I heard the recordings he made of your little
speech to that malicious bitch. I agree with Darryl - you
sounded just like the Duke in his movie McClintock." Jane
had another small laugh at the memory. "Now that is a sound
I love to hear from you, love-of-my-life. Now why don't you
tell Auntie Di what is keeping you from our bed?"
For several long moments, Jane was silent. Then, she took a
shaky breath, and squeezed hard on the hand that somehow
had taken hers. "I am afraid," she rasped out on a harsh
whisper, "Afraid I could become like Sheila. What if Anne
Braithwaite is right about me?" Jane asked, and then began
to shiver again. "Just yesterday, I complained to Marie
that MY Kendra was a blonde, not a brunette when I should
be happy just to have Kenneth open back up to that side of
himself again, and our boy, Jesse is upstairs right now
sleeping in a silk nightgown!"
Diana gave a short, surprisingly girlish giggle, and laid
her head momentarily on Jane's shoulder. "Would you feel
more comfortable if it was flannel?"
"Don't you dare joke!" she snarled, and then her eyes went
wide as if she were seeing the figure beside her for the
first time. "And why did you come here as Diana?
"So you could see that you do not force any of us to dress
this way," was the gentle reply. "Darryl, Michael, Jesse
and even Kenneth do this by choice - because you taught
them the good that comes of it for both them and for your
other boys. You could not become like Sheila because that
woman had no conscience, no soul. You do! Moreover, you
understand and FEAR the darkness we all have inside us -
you KNOW it's there. For that reason alone, you will never
give into it. Not only that, but you surround yourself with
those you trust to stop you if you ever did so much as
think about crossing that line.
Jane found herself wrapped in a warm and loving hug. "Now
let's leave this chilled night air and snuggle in our warm
bed. Silk is great for making a statement, but it's chilly
out tonight."
He... or rather SHE was right, Jane mused. How could she
ever think her family would let her face the darkness
alone? "My dear, you have the most wonderful ideas," Jane
commented as they rose together, and started back to the
house.
Once snuggled together in bed, sleep came quickly as they
rested, safe, protected and loved in each others arms.
---
A much improved story with the help of Tigger.
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