REDD WHYTE BLEUChapter 2
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Jason held the door open and beckoned for his two charges to enter. Mario slid off his stool, hitched his tight continentals up to ease the strain on his heavy-headed organ which bounced freely in the open fly, and headed for the door with a smile on his face. It had been a long time, too long, since he had been involved with more than the daily routines of sex training.
He liked the special effects of Jason's cruelties. It always meant something different, something exciting, for him too for Jason inevitably worked his victims up to fever pitch and left them wanting and begging for help. Mario smiled as he went through the door. He would help them. He would feed their ravenous appetites. Tube feed them, like hungry helpless babes, until they cried enough... and a little more.
"We're waiting, Carolyn," Jason flicked the braided quirt against his pant leg. 'I do hope you will join us... willingly."
Carolyn knew she had no choice. She forced her reluctant legs to carry her across the room, past Jason's extended arm on the door, and into the secret room. Perhaps it wouldn't be... too bad. After all, she had known the dogs for two months, worked with them, known the feel of their tongues and their humps. 'Uncontrolled experiment' Jason had said. Uncontrolled? The word worried her. If Jason merely intended for her to take on the nine Danes one after the other to see her suffer, welll... she would be totally exhausted, probably raw and sore, but she could stand it. But he had said 'uncontrolled' and 'experiment' and she felt the chill of mortal fear at the sound of his voice mouthing the words. She heard the door swing shut behind her. Escape was gone.
"Well now," Jason began, "why don't we all get comfortable for the party, hmmm?" He began unbuttoning the top buttons of his expensive sport shirt and looked expectantly first at Mario and then at Carolyn.
"You can lay your things here," he indicated the line of velour covered theater-type seats which ran in a single circular row around the perimeter of the room. "You too, my dear."
Carolyn shivered. There was no use putting off the inevitable. If he found her obedience too slow, he would use the bite of the whip to speed her up. She had learned that lesson the hard way and had a few faint scars to remind her of his accuracy. She reached behind her and slid the long zipper down the back of her dress, let it slide off her shoulders, down her slim body and then carefully stepped out of it. It's fresh cherry color was sensually dramatic against the deep royal blue of the velour seats. Royal Benson blue, she thought ironically, what else? Jason had bent over and was fussing with a knotted shoe string. It gave Carolyn a minute to look around the secret room, 'the arena' Jason had called it.
It was an average size room, perhaps fifteen feet square, but there the normalcy ended. Theatre seats had been bolted to the floor in a perfect circle. There were twenty chairs in all, an opening the width of two additional seats left on each side of the room, one where the swinging doors had let them in and another on the opposite side of the room before a second doorway. Carolyn wondered where the doorway led. She had never been beyond the lab area. Mario cared for the show dogs, some of whom he had said were kenneled in the outer areas. Naive to the point of stupidity, she chided herself, she had never given a thought to what else lay beyond the door. Perhaps if she had known, she would not have decided to remain at Royal Benson Kennels for the sake of the money.
She pressed a speculative finger into the royal blue velour of the near seat. It was expensively padded and soft. It would be, she knew. Jason Benson could afford the best and it made him feel important to prove his worth to anyone... even to whomever shared the seats of this barbaric stage. That's what it was, she was certain. What else could it be? She looked about carefully. Perhaps there was a clue to its use. The walls were subtly toned in shades of blue. Well appointed light fixtures, shaded and pointed toward the ceiling, gave the room the faintly ethereal appearance of an old Grecian stage in the moonlight. Just within the entrance door hung a plate of silent switches which could, no doubt, heighten the lighting effects. Jason was effective... if immoral.
Subconsciously perhaps, Carolyn had avoided looking at the center stage but now her eyes could avoid it no longer. The blue patterned carpeting reached from the wall beneath the seats, then a circle of subtle gold about twelve inches wide encircled the raised dais of the stage. The stage itself was raised some six inches above the normal floor level and was carpeted in the same solid royal blue tone of the velour seats and decorations. She didn't bend to touch its texture but she knew that it would be thick and dense and luxuriously soft beneath her fingers. It was a lovely room... she wished she was not a part of its brutal entertainment.
Jason's eyes had been on the girl for some time, watching her expressions as she surveyed the opulence of the room, enjoying the controlled revulsion that flooded her eyes as she stared at the raised platform center. She knew, she thought she knew what lay ahead for her... but the subtle gnawing fear of not being sure gave her a helpless appeal. Jason's usually dormant desires were already warming with anticipation. He pressed his hands, palms flat, against his groin and held them there. He could feel the warmth of body heat and the small bulge that meant his penis was beginning to make ready beneath his pants. He undid the button and released the zipper lock.
"God, you two are slow!" came Mario's harsh impatient voice, "Let's get this show the hell on the road!"
"Patience, my boy, patience." Jason calmed Mario with a look of warning. He didn't intend to hurry these last subtle moments of waiting. Only the inexperienced gulped down the delights of love, and then were hungry again. The wise savored each exquisite flavor and committed each sensation to memory, to be relived in the privacy of one's thoughts time and time again in the lonely hours of the night. The agonizing anticipation was the gourmet sauce of any sexual appetite and he, Jason Benson, certainly intended to make the most of his opportunities.
"You must not keep your 'guests' waiting, dear girl," Jason tormented. "Do continue with your disrobing."
Carolyn reluctantly reached behind her back and released the hook which held the brassiere and let the large lacy cups give up their heavy burden. In the subtle light of the blue room, her full-pointed breasts took on the appearance of delicately carved marble. She hooked her fingers in the elastic band of the gossamer panties and slid them over the gentle curve of her hips. Carolyn felt suddenly alone and utterly helpless in the presence of insanity. In these awful moments before one of Jason's perverted sex sessions, she always felt the illusive quality of insanity. She too must be insane to have thought she could bear up under his madness for long. Money wasn't worth it.
What really bothered her, Carolyn knew, was not the loss of income should she find a means of escape... but the knowledge that she had come to need the violent inescapable uncontrollable sexual reactions. Her body craved the prolonged stimulations which always brought her to the brink of ecstasy where the morals of civilization no longer mattered, where nothing mattered except wild wonderful orgasms. There! She had finally admitted it. She was afraid of Jason Benson... but she was more afraid of doing without the sexual satisfaction the dogs gave her. There was a certain relief in admitting it to herself, Carolyn thought, but a psychologically unnerving thing to realize that a man couldn't satisfy her animal appetites.
My god! The realization hit her suddenly. I've become no more than an animal myself! She gripped the back of the seat where she had been absentmindedly laying her bra and panties, gripped until her fingers were white. I've got to get out of here... now... NOW! Or I'll go mad!
She turned suddenly and ran for the door, clawing at its flat closed surface like a trapped animal fleeing for its life. Dry sobs racked her naked body as she leaned against the cool metal surface, fingers searching for the hidden mechanism which released the electric lock. Loud sobs born deep within her tormented mind, sobs which shook her whole body and left her weak. Carolyn slowly sank to her knees before the door, hung her head and whimpered softly for a moment, then she was silent. Streams of tears ran down her face, across her bare breasts and made the final leap to her legs and to the floor. But sound had ceased. A soul dies silently. Only the body suffers audibly.
"Jesus H. Christ! What got into her?" Mario gasped.
Jason wore the icy smile of irony which marked his face in moments of stress to others. He'd wallow in the misery of others, bask in shadow of their suffering. And why shouldn't he, Jason thought as he watched Carolyn slumped before the locked door, why shouldn't he? Twenty years of sexual servitude to the old and the ugly, twenty years of culling through the dregs of unwanted womanhood to skim off a living... ahhhh but no more. Jason drew himself up to his full stature, somewhat less imposing in the nude than when he was expensively tailored, and became the Lord and Master of his desperate little world.
Lesley
- 25.12.2021
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