This work is long, 38,000 words, a complete novella. It contains multiple scenes of hardcore explicit sex between men and women, men and men, women and women, and groups dealing primary in a MFM arrangement. Themes throughout center on domination. Comments / votes are welcomed by the author.
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A house divided cannot stand, or so someone once said. I myself was finding that it worked quite well. I kept my life in nice neat compartments, and there was no room for error. It made for a pretty prison.
On my own I had once lived comfortably in suburban Chicago, with a man who loved me, a career I struggled for and was proud of, but now I was trapped in much more complicated digs.
Since my lover left me, my father and brother had both decided to attach to my underbelly like sycophantic weevils, and live with me. So I scraped together all my savings and bought a house on Lake Shore Drive in the city.
Like my life the four stories and basement were fiercely divided; Bobby lived as he pleased in the front of the basement, my father and I occupied the floors above the public rooms.
Everyone separate, everyone happy.
Oh, I drank too much, Bobby left drugs in his rooms, and father, well, he’d been depressed since he lost his girlfriend and he wasn't doing too well making his own decisions.
His belligerence had always been bad but he'd gotten worse in the last year, ever since we’d moved in together. We’d been bound together as a family once more by a twist of fate, one that haunted us every minute of every hour.
We lived together without speaking, and the staff paid us no heed used to our strange ways. One cook, two maids, and a butler who was actually father’s babysitter. Each of us toed a line set down by my grandfather, a man of indomitable will who selected our jailers with great care and precision.
Bobby had failed every drug treatment program in America or Europe. Dad had amassed insurmountable gambling debts, all paid neatly with a note from my grandfather. Peter Hyde was driven by a deep need to possess everything to a degree that was unseemly, a desire that went mere possession.
Peter Hyde had lost his only daughter, his grandson was a drug addict, I was his last hope. He paid off my finance, he made me change my name, and when I moved his spies came along to work for me.
I made a decent living writing, more journalism than books, but enough of those to keep me going. Still, no matter what I did to earn my freedom, grandfather was always waiting in the wings, cruelly watching, waiting, my grandmother at his side taking note. He’d purchased the publisher of my three books, and if I angered him I was ruined.
That became my prison; be a good granddaughter and my father’s debts would be forgiven, my brother sheltered and protected from the public eye. Leave and my brother and father were cast out, I was ruined, and there was no way to support them.
“Miss?” A deep voice asked behind me.
“James,” I said without looking up from my laptop.
“Miss, Bobby has requested the use of your car.”
That made me turn. James, the butler, was young and quiet. He came from a long lie of men who knew how to fade into the woodwork and he was excellent at his job, very thorough. “Tell Bobby I’d neuter him first. He can take the damn Jag Hyde bought him for Christmas.”
He blinked, nodded, and left me. I sat back at stared out the window at lake Michigan. Not for the first time did I wonder what the staff thought of us.
The full time maid, Consuela, worked divided between my father and me. He occupied the third floor, I the fourth. Also on staff were James, a part time maid who cleaned up after my brother 3 times a week, and a cook.
My father had been a marine, a carpenter, a line worker at an auto plant. My brother was a high school drop- out with at least seven active addictions at any given time. I was too thin, tired looking, and miserably alone. I wondered again what they must have thought of us.
“Keelie, why the hell can’t I borrow the Mustang?” Bobby demanded.
I stood, knowing that in my heels I was six one to his six-two. “Because you love pretty things, and you love to kill them. Wrap the Jag around a pole.”
He looked dark and menacing in my office. To reflect the city and lake outside the colors were soft sueded grays and blue-greens. Bobby had long dark hair, bloodshot dark eyes, and wore all black. He worked out and was rail thin with ropy muscles and when he was high he was known to get violent. I heard James lingering outside.
“You’re not my fucking mother!” Bobby shouted and rolled up his sleeves revealing a row of fresh track marks.
It killed me to see him destroy himself and so I stalked to my bar and poured three fingers of Scotch, neat. “I know that more than anyone, big brother. And yet you live by my goodwill, you eat by my goodwill, you exist by my goodwill. Don’t test it.”
“Bitch!” He snarled and stalked off.
Without turning I downed the Scoth in one fiery smooth gulp. “James?”
“Miss?”
“If he goes for the Mustang, shoot him.”
“Very good, miss.”
When they left I locked the doors to the stairwell, ensconcing myself on the top floor. I had two guest suites, an office, and my own suite up here, and my privacy mattered. I was a terrible insomniac so the floor was soundproofed, the doors too, and everything locked up tightly.
The third floor housed my father’s three-room suite along with 2 larger servant’s quarters, one empty, one housing James, and three smaller suites, two of them used by the maid and the cook.
The second floor held two large general rooms for the servant’s use as lounges, and three lounges for family. One was a library, another a meeting room we used as an informal dining room, and the third a game room.
The first floor held the living room, two studies, the kitchen, formal dining room and an entertainment room with TVs and electronic toys in the back. There was a grand marble staircase and the opulence of it was befitting a Hyde. The entire townhouse was worthy of Peter Hyde.
Only the fourth floor truly reflected me. My suite entry was narrow, between closets, leading to a sitting room with a few chairs. To the left were my dressing room and grand bath, to the right my bedroom with the window seat and massive bed. My office connected to my dressing room and the hall directly, and that door I shut tightly.
