Chapter Three - A Kept Man
Mrs. Eggleston's basement was nice enough, but as a permanent home I wasn't too thrilled with it. There was a washroom, a small kitchen with a fridge, microwave, sink and bar, a bedroom with a large queen-sized bed and a walk-in closet, all bordering the main sitting room with its leather furniture and large screen TV. In my investigations I poked my head into the walk-in closet and was amazed at the amount of leather, chains, and shackles I saw. It looked like the underworld of Mr. Dressup's tickle trunk.
No windows, no cracks, not even a peephole to the outside world. My phone was somewhere outside, and Candy was definitely not hiding a phone under her skimpy bikini.
Candy was sitting wedged into one far corner of the big leather cough, her legs drawn up beneath her, staring at the TV which oddly wasn't on.
"Candy?" I asked. "You okay?" She looked at me - sort of through me - and then went back to her silent meditation.
I don't know how long it was, hours at least, but finally the basement door opened. I turned and looked as the long stiletto-heeled legs of Mrs. Eggleston descended the stairs. Each step was a steady, ominous click like the unstoppable pendulum of a death row clock. She was dressed in the same sheer white dress I remembered but my eyes stayed fixed on hers except to quickly glance past her and up the stairs to the door, which she had left open.
"Don't even think about it," Mrs. Eggleston said in a husky voice as a knowing smile curled one side of her mouth. She strode right up to me, stopping just inches from my face, filling my vision with her unending cleavage, her pale, creamy skin, and the burgeoning round edges of her chest which dramatically swept back into her narrow waist. Apple and peach perfume filled my nostrils and my heart started to thud faster.
She was imposing, especially so close to me, but panic was rising inside me and I knew there was no way I was going to stay still and meek while that door remained open at the top of the stairs. I had a sudden idea and quickly grabbed her in a bear hug, locking my left wrist into my right hand and pinning her arms at her sides.
"Candy!" I yelled, "Go for it! Run! Get help!"
Candy didn't move. What the fuck was wrong with her?
A stiletto heel pressed against the top of my foot. Mrs. Eggleston didn't stomp my bare foot, but she steadily increased the pressure until I felt the fragile bones on the top of my foot grind against her heel and bend alarmingly. My hands released automatically as the agony tore through my foot. I didn't see how she did it, but suddenly I was spinning - everything except my wrist which stayed firmly gripped in her hand. Then I was bending forward, my hand high up behind me, and excruciating pain was shooting down my arm.
Candy still didn't move. Mrs. Eggleston shoved me forward and I sprawled face-first onto the floor.
"You aren't leaving until I let you, Donovan, so stay the fuck put. Be a good boy and I'll let you go sooner."
I turned over and glared back at her as I rubbed my wrist. "How fucking long do you think you can keep me here? People ask questions, you know! I have friends who will come looking for me. The police will have to investigate when no one can find me."
She cocked her head sideways as she looked at me. "You don't understand yet, Donovan. I will let you go, but I won't be done with you. Neither will my friends." She turned her head to the stairs. "Girls! Come on down and see your present!"
Shadows blocked that little rectanglar beacon of freedom at the top of the stairs and then I heard several feet clambering down.
The first woman was commandingly sexy. Heavy leather boots covered her ankles and skin tight faded blue jeans slicked up over her calves and taut thighs. Several ragged splits showed tantalizing glimpses of the smooth skin of her legs. The jeans stopped at an enormous skull-shaped belt buckle that rested several inches below her bellybutton. Her tanned, wide hips, flat belly, and narrow waist were all completely uncovered. A thin black t-shirt coated her ribs and stretched taughtly over her D-cup tits. Long, wavy black hair cascaded down her shoulders and framed an oval-shaped face with deeply-defined cheekbones and startling pale grey eyes. She strode directly to me, fierceness in all her movements, and stopped suddenly right in front of me.
She reached up and grabbed my chin, turning my head side to side as she inspected me with her peircing eyes. I smelled her then, a wonderful scent of leather and gasoline that made my pants tight.
"I'm Beth," she said simply and then released my face, turned, and sauntered over to the couch.
The second woman was an absolute bombshell. Gleaming red high heels cradled her small and delicate feet. Sculpted calves and smooth, toned thighs were topped by a candy red miniskirt so short it served to invite more than to cover. The one-piece skirt sleeved over her body, as thin and revealing as paint as it burst out over her huge breasts, straining at the two hard nipples pointing through the cloth. Her platinum curls bobbed as she bounced over to me to kiss me on the cheek, her blue eyes glittering with the effervescence of the innately cheerful person. I smelled lavender.
"I'm Tiffani! I'm very pleased to meet you." Tiffani turned to Mrs. Eggleston.
"He's cute, Monica. A real good catch!" Tiffani wiggled over to the couch to sit beside Beth.
The last woman, who closed the door behind her, was a sculpted beauty. She wore slippers and as she padded down the stairs I saw that she wore a thin film of tight black yoga pants pressed over every dip and ridge of her muscular calves and quads. Her groin was perfectly displayed by the photographic material clinging to her nethers. Above her yoga pants I saw every abdominal muscle pressed between her ribs until her sports bra rudely covered her up. Her bra desperately tried to sedate the prodigous swelling of her chest but her cleavage still found an opening at the top. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a severe ponytail but she carried a genuine smile on her round face, a smile that also reflected in her huge brown eyes. She gave me a quick hug that included an experimental squeeze of my butt. As she leaned in close I smelled the sharp scent of her deodorant.
"Take a seat, Jen," Mrs. Eggleston commanded, "no sampling the goods until later!"
Jen pulled away, releasing my ass. She sucked her lower lip into a pout and then flitted her eyes up to meet mine, transforming the pout into a seductive invitation as she let the soft flesh of her juicy lip pop out from between her teeth. Giggling, she turned to walk to the couch and my eyes were glued to her ass. The tight fabric hugged her perfect ass as surely as if she were naked and I was fascinated by the swell of muscle clearly defined in each cheek as she moved.
Mrs. Eggleston walked over to the bar and settled on a bar stool, turning away from the bar, crossing her legs and stretching her arms out to either side as she leaned back against the bar.
"Now, girls, this is Donovan, your meat. Donovan, these girls are my directors and they handle day-to-day operations in our organization, which, well, you might someday come to see what we do. Consider this an interview!" Tiffani and Jen giggled. Beth just stared at me, her eyes filled with intent.
Mrs. Eggleston continued. "You will perform for these ladies, Donovan. If you arouse them, they may take off a little clothing to encourage you. How far it all goes depends on your abilities."
I looked at the couch with the four gorgeous ladies looking back at me. That didn't actually sound that bad, I thought.
A frown crossed Mrs. Eggleston's face. "Candy! What do you think you're doing on the couch?"
Candy curled her legs up even closer to herself. "Mistress, I thought I could - "
"Of course not!" Mrs. Eggleston growled. She stood up. "Get over here."
Candy slowly unfolded her legs and slinked over to Mrs. Eggleston, casting quick apologetic glances at the impassive women on the couch. There was a coldness in the room from all four women as they stared at Candy as she self conciously hiked up her tiny bikini bottom and stood before Mrs. Eggleston, avoiding her eyes.
Mrs. Eggleston leaned close. I was nearest and could here the menacing whisper.