I sat behind the wheel of my car, a feeling of complete numbness taking over. I watched her walk across the train platform, the rain beating down on her, the wind blowing her hair. The train started to pull in; she began to turn; I quickly faced forward. I had to stay stoic; I had to be strong; I couldn't show she had gotten to me.
I turned once more, by now Ginny was on the train, the doors were closed, and the engines were pulling it out of the station. I looked in my rearview mirror, my eyes showing the swelling of someone who was crying.
The drive back to Turner House was long. It felt longer without the beautiful woman beside me. The one who's language had made me giggle, who's accent made me weak, and who's personality as a whole had taken me completely by storm.
The rain was still coming down, the wind at full force as I drove up the gravel driveway. I pulled up as close to the house as possible, sat for a moment, took a deep breath, and counted to five. On five, I opened the car door, jumped out, slamming it behind me, and ran to the door.
"Fuck I thought," realizing the keys were still in the car. I ran back, knowing I only had seconds before the auto-lock would lock them inside.
I was too late. "Damn it," I thought to myself. I saw the front door open. He had been watching.
"You're all wet," he said in his posh private school accent.
I walked to the door. "You can't come in clothed like that," he said laughing, "girls normally have to get naked. And looking at how much you've cried I'd be asking you to hand in your man card."
"Get stuffed you piece of shit," I said, pushing him out of the way.
My brother Chris was three years my junior. He too had been homeschooled, but for one year had gone to Eton for 'Cultural Growth.' That's what my parents called it; in truth, it was more that he was an insufferable prick and they just wanted him gone for a bit.
"So the shrill-voiced little cunt has left the building has she?" he asked.
"You have such an amazing way with words for someone who sounds like a member of the royal family," I responded, ignoring the question.
"I told you," he said, "let her blow you or ride you, give her your tiny load, then retake control."
We walked down to the end of the house we both occupied. Ginny had been staying in the guest's end, where we always let the girls stay when they came. It was a reasonable distance away from Chris's 'Play Zone.'
"You need to take more control, Jon," Chris said, talking down to me like a father would.
"I'm not you."
"You wish you were me, I know how to keep women," he said, walking into his room. I followed.
I looked at the scene in front of me, no longer really shocked, mostly appalled.
"You know Karen and Keighleigh I believe," he said gesturing to the two women. Karen, a brunette from Liverpool in her twenties, was naked and hogtied on the floor. She was blindfolded, a ballgag filling her mouth, noise-canceling headphones over her ears. She was squirming, a telltale sign of some vibrating toy, or more than one, stuffed inside her and whirring away. The headphones probably had the sounds of a woman moaning, an old ploy of Chris's.
"Jesus fuck Chris," I said as I saw Keighleigh. She was tied to a chair, a massaging wand strapped to her thigh and the ball head pushed up against her vagina. What worried me was the electrodes attached to her nipples. "I've told you not to play with electricity over their chests, it's dangerous.
"Oh, she's fine you wet blanket," he said. I watched him take a remote from his pocket and point it at her. Her back arched as the electricity went through her nipples, a scream coming from behind the oversized ball gag in her mouth.
"Turn it off," I said in a demanding tone. Chris looked at me, feigning sorrow as he turned it off. I detached the electrodes from the girl's breasts. I gently stroked my fingers around them, Keighleigh looking up at me, pleadingly.
"Go on," I heard Chris say, "Fuck her, you know she wants it, and you want it.
I looked across at him, venom in my eyes.
"Oh yes that's right," he said, "Keighleigh, Chris here is pretty much a fucking eunuch, an emotional cripple, unable to fuck, unable to give his dick to anyone."
"You're a shit," I said to him, squaring up.
"You ain't got the balls to hit me you weak piece of shit," Chris said, looking back.
"You're not worth it."
"See, if it were me, that little Scottish tart would still be here. I'd have her tied up tight, blindfolded, an 18-inch dildo up her arse, and 12 inches of my cock down her throat."
"Yeah," I responded, "where are you going to get the other 11 inches."
Chris looked at me incredulously; I heard Keighleigh laugh a little behind her gag.
"You fucking bitch, laugh at that shit will you," Chris snarled as he moved towards Keighleigh, her eyes full of fear. I grabbed him, pulling him back.
"No little brother, I think you need some time away from the girls tonight."
"Fuck you," he said, his posh accent now replaced with his more traditional west country one.
I ungagged Keighleigh; I heard her take a deep breath and watched as she stretched her jaw.
"The electrodes were set way too high," she said, looking at me, "he loses control."
Chris sat sulking in the corner; he wasn't paying attention.
I untied Keighleigh and then untied Karen. Both women stood naked either side of me. They were stunning; there was no mistaking that. Keighleigh was the smaller framed of the two, but everything was in proportion. Minimal fat, toned, a woman who looked after herself. Her large blue eyes sparkled, although right now, the dark rings from crying in pain surrounded them.
Karen was curvier, slightly shorter. Her bum was a work of art and had a face that could melt a man's heart.
"What are you going to do with them limp dicklet?" Chris said, using his most disgusting of nicknames for me.
"I'm going to take them down to the guest end of the house," I responded, "they can get some rest and then decide if they still want to hang out with you tomorrow."
I led the girls from the room and walked them down the corridors. I heard their bare feet pad along the wooden floor.
"I'm assuming you both arrived with clothes?" I asked.
"Yes," Karen said, laughing a little, "they are in the guest room he had us in."
"Which room was it?" I asked.
Keighleigh smiled as she walked past me, "Follow me," she said in her most sultry voice, wiggling her bum suggestively as she walked.
"She is so bad," Karen said.
