Whatever the businessman's thoughts or intentions, he kept them to himself. Sheila spent the last few minutes of the flight feeling sick, disturbed by the dark thoughts that plagued her. Once off the plane, with her bags in hand, she begged off the invitations of her friends to the obvious "Welcome Back Home" celebration. She just wanted to go home and lock herself in her room. A sense of relief came over her once her cab pulled up to huge mansion she called home. Quickly paying the driver, she grabbed her luggage and hurried inside.
She walked into the entrance hall and dropped her bags on the floor, just inside the double doors. The loud thud they made echoed through the high-ceilinged room. One of the house staff, a young woman carrying an armful of linens, poked her head through a nearby door way to see what the noise was and Sheila fixed her with an icy stare.
"Tell Benjamin to take my bags up to my room immediately!" Sheila demanded of the young woman. "Oh, and tell him to bring me a bottle of champagne, too." She had turned away from the woman and was already walking up the curved staircase to her room, without a backward glance.
Once in her bedroom, she peeled off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor and took a long, hot shower. She almost felt normal when she emerged, toweling dry and then wrapping herself in a luxurious, pink robe. Laying back on her bed, she clicked on her TV, not really watching it and absentmindedly toying with one of her nipples. It stiffened in response and drew her attention to the lust that had been hovering in the background ever since her flight. Some commercial was on the screen, a beach scene with muscular, half-naked men and bikini clad women. Her heart beat quicker and she felt herself moisten, as she wondered which of her dildos she would use to masturbate with. She hadn't realized how entranced she was becoming until a sharp rap at her door broke the spell.
"What!" she yelled at the door, annoyed at the interruption.
A familiar voice came through the door. "It's just me with your bags, Miss Benson. Shall I leave them in the hall or would like them brought in?"
"Bring them in. What the fuck took you so long!" Sheila reluctantly stopped touching herself and pulled her robe tighter, remaining on the bed.
The door to her room opened and a man carrying her luggage and a bottle of Champaign walked in. Dressed impeccably, as usual, Benjamin placed the bags carefully at the base of one of her dressers and set the bottle on the top. He stood and turned to her. "How was your flight home, Miss Benson? I'm sure you must be exhausted. Will you be joining the family for dinner this evening?"
Sheila looked at him hungrily, seeing him with new eyes. In the past, she barely tolerated his presence. For one thing, he was old, at least 50 in her estimation. More importantly, however, he was the help, barely worth her time or notice. That was before she realized what a large man he was. Broad chested, wide shoulders straining the jacket of his suit. He wore his greying hair tightly cropped in a crew cut. This and his square jaw made her think he may have been some sort of military in the past. She suddenly realized she knew nothing about him.
"Are you feeling well, Miss?" Benjamin found himself unnerved by the strange way in which she was staring at him. His mind flashed on the image of some predatory animal and a chill went through him. He shook it off, realizing that more likely she was on some sort of hallucinogenic drug.
"Ah, no. I'm fine, Benjamin." Her skin cried out for his touch, to feel his large hands hold her down and tear her clothes off, helpless to stop him. Once again, the deep sensation of fear emerged from this sea of sudden lust and she clung to it to regain some level of composure.
"I'm just ... just tired is all. I'll just stay in my room. I might not be down." She quickly looked away, trying to subdue her thoughts. When she didn't hear him leave immediately, the thought occurred to her the she should open her robe and beg him to touch her. It was with effort that she snapped at him, "Just fucking leave, okay! I'm fine!"
He paused for a moment more, knowing that it was his job to keep the members of the Benson family safe, but then turned to leave. "Spoiled, little, rich brat.", he thought disgustedly, internally rolling his eyes and hoping he wouldn't have to take her to the hospital because of a drug overdose. Continuing about his duties for the day, he couldn't shake the undertone of annoyance he felt towards Sheila, having dealt with the indignity of having to tolerate her rude and selfish behavior for the 12 years he had worked for the family. "Things would have gone differently", he thought ruefully, "if they hadn't caught me. The dishonorable discharge has totally fucked my life. If only ..." A dark mood polluted the remainder of his day.
A wholly different mood had encompassed Sheila the moment Benjamin had left the room. Unable to contain herself, she had scrambled for the drawer of her dresser that contained her toys and grabbed the 9" glass phallus inside, thick shaft, translucent with a swirl of grey and green colors, ending in a bulbous head. There was no consideration of foreplay as she shoved the object deeply inside of her, pushing it against the ring of her cervix in short, sharp thrusts. The fingers of her other hand swirled around her clit in ever tightening circles, before simply just grinding it against her pubis in a staccato rhythm. Her orgasm felt like a dam bursting and she screamed into her pillow to spare herself the humiliation of broadcasting her release to the entire household.
Slowly drifting down from her post-orgasmic high, a fear gripped her once again, sending her thoughts racing. How long would this last? How could she ever leave her room, knowing that this terrible lust would control her? Now her fear had a companion, as despair took up residence deep in her gut. Leaving her toy on the bed, she went to her other drawer of distractions, the pharmaceutical kind. Pulling out one of several half-full plastic prescription bottles, she opened it and shook two green pills into her hand. Opening the Champaign, she took a swig straight from the bottle.
"I just need to rest." she thought desperately to herself, "Just some rest, and to stay away from people for now. After some sleep I can figure this out." With that, she swallowed the pills, washing them down with another hearty pull from the bottle. "Just some sleep and I'll be fine." Crawling into bed, she took one more swallow, nearly half finishing the bottle and slamming it down on the bed stand nearby. When the feeling of numbness began to wash over her, she welcomed it and the oblivion that shortly followed.
Late that night, Benjamin had just returned to his private residence, located on the Benson estate, behind the mansion. Stripping off his clothes to take a post-workout shower, he paused briefly to admire himself in the mirror. "Not bad.", he thought, "for a guy my age." His hard body was still there, the result of his dedication to his hours of exercise, but age had allowed some padding to accumulate around his midsection. He felt the grey in his hair looked distinguished, but the white in his pubic and chest hair clearly advertised his age. The wrinkles that had begun 10 years ago had progressed, but these he had made his peace with. His was still a body that many, even 10 years younger, would be envious of. These were his thoughts as he entered the shower.
Drying off, still in his bathroom, he thought he heard his front door open. Living on the estate, he had ceased locking his door, but the sound of someone in his house now made him regret that. He tensed up and his military training kicked in as he looked for something he could use as a weapon. Seeing few suitable options, he wrapped a towel around himself and walked out of the bathroom into his adjoining bedroom. What ever he had been expecting, it certainly was not Sheila, his boss' teenage daughter reclining on his bed.
