Seduced By The Alphas Ch 03

This series is actually completed, it is 18 parts. They will all be uploaded as the moderators approve them. It came together faster than I thought it would. Enjoy.

One Master or Two?

This evening I so desire to leave a good impression. I was very curious and a little nervous to finally be meeting Master's big brother. He often spoke of him, and it appeared they are very close, even if he is much older than my Master is.

It felt most strange to greet my Master at the door fully dressed and standing. The unforgiving steel beneath my clothing, about my neck and wrists made me never forget what I really was to him. Master caught my eye with his own intense ones, and I could see the small knowing hint of a smile forming, as he saw my discomfort and took his delight in it.

His brother was every bit as handsome as Master, aged somewhere in his late thirties, with gray eyes the color of an encroaching storm, and the same full head of long hair. He had a neatly trimmed goatee and a few tattoos, unlike Master's skin which is clean, but other than that he was Master in every way, yet older. Unmistakably brothers for all the world to see.

I smiled and greeted him nervously with my stumbling words. I have always been painfully shy and much prefer to just stand back and not be noticed in any social encounter. He seemed pleasant enough, his English nowhere near as accomplished as my Master's was, and his accent heavy in his words. He was very hard to understand. Something about him bothered me. I cannot say what. Though I did realize they had both been drinking, not enough to be drunk, but enough to get them in a buoyant mood. Maybe that was all I was detecting?

Introductions over I served the meal. The two men obviously had much catching up to do, and they spoke animatedly in a mixture of English and Danish. I assume they only used English for the things they wished me to be privy to.

I did not have much to contribute in the company of these two handsome and charismatic men. Being owned property and in company I really was most unsure how I should behave. So I spent most of dinner avoiding their eyes and shifting on my chair to minimize the pain in my behind, and was only too happy to retreat to the solace of the kitchen to do the dishes.

Lost in the patterns the soap suds made floating on the water in the sink I jumped with a start to hear Master calling me. I had hoped I had been quite forgotten. I hurried to the lounge room to see what he wanted, I should have known, more drinks. I hurried back to the kitchen to get his favorite, unflavored schnapps. I returned swiftly.

"Put those down Lidia."

He indicated the coffee table, and I set down the tray, the shot glasses clattering into one another, loud in the quiet room.

"Now Lidia, show my dear Brother what you really are to me?"

I balked at his words, assuring myself I had misheard him. I stood motionless and silent, my heart thumping in my chest. He could do this to me so swiftly and I hated myself for it.

"Take your clothes off slave." He ordered, in his usual hard edged tone. I could all but taste the threat in it. The worse thing was his brother did not seem at all shocked, and I realized stupidly he must have been in on this the whole time. I quailed at his command.

Master looked at his elder brother apologetically. "She's a little slow, and way too shy."

At once leaving his place on the lounge to help me do as he commanded. He all but tore my top off pinching my nipples hard, as he did so sending shameful feelings to places deep inside. I felt so ashamed as my clothes lay crumpled on the threadbare carpet, along with my pride. My face flushed and red for all to witness. I hung my head and stared dumbly at the floor while the two men appraised me like I was some witless animal.

My mind flashing back to the group of Master's friends who had shared me in a similar fashion long years before in the river shack. Tonight here it was happening again. I wanted to die of my shame. The only positive was he saw fit to remove the belt.

"Drinks slave."

Master pushed me toward the coffee table with the back of his hand as he resumed his place. I wanted to run, I wanted to hide, he knew it, I knew it. In this dangerous game we played. Knowing any moment I might break and run to the police, condemning him to all hell, and he prepared at any point to do anything in his power to prevent me.

However my thoughts remained, just thoughts, I felt nothing but numb with the shame of the moment trying to concentrate on pouring the drinks. I assumed correctly, fortunately, to serve Master's brother first. I could not look directly at him though I could feel his eyes on me, his calloused hand touched mine as he took the glass, I jumped. Master laughed and I felt a new wave of heat flush my cheeks. I took the other glass to Master, but he did not take it and made me stand before him for long awkward moments.

"Stand straight." He ordered in a tone dripping velvet, his voice thick with arousal. "Don't spill any."

I could see he was clearly enjoying showing off his new acquisition. He pushed his fingers deep inside of me, it was all I could do to stop my knees caving under me. My body reacting on its own volition to his invasion, my eyes not on him but on the rim of the glass in my every effort not to spill a drop. I felt I stood there inert for the longest time, yet I know in reality it was only some seconds before he took the glass and I was forgotten at his feet on the floor.

The men resumed their conversation in Danish as though nothing out of the ordinary was happening, I used to so love to hear Master speak in his exotic tongue, but on this night it chilled me with unspeakable fear. I knew I was the subject of much it, and tried to blot it out, gazing at the television that lent its ambiance to the background, wishing I had the distraction of a kitten or a puppy.

The clock was way past midnight edging toward one before the men stirred, the alcohol bottle empty. I rose from the floor as I sensed Master wished to retire for the evening. His hand went to my arm, and before I knew it he pushed me toward his brother and left the room.

I felt as though the entire room had collapsed inward crushing me. I felt his brother's arm encircle me and guide me to the spare room. I knew better than to make a scene. I had traveled this road with Master before and could expect no quarter. In a fleeting thought I dwelt on the past and on the many conversations we had had on lack of choice. Tonight I was seeing the merit of the lesson driven home, yes lack of choice, the life of a real slave.

The spare room smelt of disuse like many such rooms do, and it was decidedly cool within. Life was becoming surreal. Here I was in the arms of a man who was to me a complete stranger, yet in the darkness possessed many of the familiarities of the man I knew all too well. That frightening man who pushed my boundaries, and could crush my world with just a glance. It was the weirdest thing.

I let him do as he pleased, he was not cruel, in fact he was most gentle. He did not talk nor did he belittle me in any fashion. He lingered over me a long time in the thin light that spilled through the window. I did not like the fact he kissed me deeply but again I did not fight him. Kissing to me is an act of sincere love only, and he cheapened this for me. After he had sated his desire he sent me from the warmth of his bed, back to my Master.

I lingered at the window pane in the lounge room tracing lines on the gelid glass, watching the street lights and those of the occasional passing car. It was well after three am, the city was quiet, and I felt like the only sleepless one in the world. I toyed with the prospect of throwing on a large overcoat and running into the street, and far away. However I knew I would not really do it. It was my mind unwilling to face new challenges, it was playing tricks on me. I had dreamed of this endlessly after all. He was my Master and he had not hurt me, he had only injured my pride.

I climbed into bed beside him, his brother's semen still sticky on my thighs, I felt soiled and cried into the pillow trying to be a silent as possible. Master was not asleep I realized with a start as he turned to face me and lick my tears from my face. He held me tightly to him and whispered in my ear nothing more than. "Brother's share." I knew this would not be the last.

*****

Saturday morning was most difficult. I was tired as I had lain awake most of the remainder of that night, my mind in such turmoil I could not find the solace of sleep. The men slept late, but I did not, rousing myself to prowl the small house and finally prepare breakfast when I was sure they would finally stir.

Master entered the kitchen kissing me, he was cheerful, as though nothing untoward had happened, and I believe in his mind it had not. I did my best to keep his good humor even if I did not feel it myself.

He sidled up to me and said hoarsely. "I'm glad you were a good girl Lidia. You gave my Brother a great gift, his wife died a few months back."

I shivered, the skin on the back of my neck prickling. He knew he was doing this to me, he never missed a thing when it came to my feelings. He fed on them, my fear, and discomfort.

"Perhaps if you continue to be good I might get you that kitten?"

I looked at him. Longing to have something living and warm to spend my long, lonely days with.

"You will?" I questioned tenuously.

"I just might." Was all he said.

Even in darkness I realized there could always be found a ray of light, and I clung to the thought.

*****

The time he spends at home on the weekends seems fleeting, even if at times it proves testing. As this last weekend had been. I was relieved to see his brother depart Saturday, but I just know that serving this man will not be an isolated event. Master and I did not speak of it, I wanted to but deep inside I did not really wish to hear his answers. Instinctively I knew them already, perhaps this is why women are gifted with intuition, it's a survival skill.

Again it is Monday and I sit here at the computer, my solace and my dark secret in its gray case beneath the old desk. With my couple of hours to write, talk with others, and dream.

I called her Cleo, Master brought her home in a cat carrier, he said he had rescued her from a shelter. He commented she was a cat in a cage just like I was, and I guess he was right. She was a tiny cat, half grown, soft gray and white, with medium length fur that felt like the softest down. I loved her instantly and she loved me too. Looking up at me with her pretty gold, green eyes, trusting, loving, and promising me many hours of solace and companionship.

"Now remember." He warned. "It's not to ruin anything or it's is gone."

I nodded, holding the squirming, purring, bundle close. Sensing the finality in his voice. He did not seem the kind to have much patience for pets, come to think of it he never really showed any interest or affection toward his friend's dog either when we lived in Alabama.

I though had dearly wanted a pet, especially a kitten for my entire life, and it was all too easy for Cleo to become a large focus for me. I tended to her care diligently, mindful though her needs never got in the way of Master's. He was first and foremost, there could be no exception to this.

Understandably I was so happy that evening and stupidly I let my guard down. The question was simple in itself, and not meant to be threatening in any way. I did not expect the rather adverse reaction Master had over it though. All I asked was when were we going to see his parents? He grabbed me quick as a cat. I jumped dropping a coffee cup, it shattered in many pieces on the floor.

"Lidia." He growled.

I was confused, what I had done to make him suddenly so angry? His fingers were pressing hard into my upper arm. He dragged me to the kitchen chair which he sat in, pulling me on to his lap, holding my face in both hands so close to his own. I could not pull away and did not try though he was hurting, the strength in his hands was phenomenal. Behind me the tap dripped into the cold dishwater, and the television droned on in the other room to an empty audience. He took a deep breath, I sensed he was about to say something profound, something I did not wish to hear.

"You Lidia are a slave, you are NOT a lover, you are NOT my wife, you are NOT my friend."

The words were almost whispered, quietly powerful. My head reeled. I did not like where this was going.

"I intend..." He paused for a long time. I could barely breathe. I could tell he was trying to frame his words carefully, and not let his rash anger control what he really needed to say. "Remember the things we spoke about, about ownership, about being a slave?"

I nodded with the minimal movement he allowed me. I could feel his hardness as I sat on his lap through the rough fabric of his jeans. My betraying tears were already beginning to run, and again I could see though impassioned, he was enjoying this.

"You are a slave, you will not be meeting my family, only my Brother knows you are here, and he is not going to be telling anyone. You will not be leaving this house, or my world, you are here Lidia to exist only for ME."

"But you said..." I countered feebly.

He snarled at me like a rabid dog. "What I said back in the USA, and what I do now Lidia are completely different things." He sniggered, enjoying my defeat. I looked down at the space between our bodies at his navel, eyes clouded with tears.

"You're mine Lidia." He reiterated. "Now you have been a good girl." He went on. "That's why you still have free run of the house in my absence. But mark my words if I even suspect you trying to leave, or contacting anyone, I will lock you up."

He pulled my hair and made me look at him. I felt he could see the contents of my soul, I was wet with my fear and ashamed all at the same time.

"But so far so good." He said, seemingly satisfied, pushing me off him as he rose. "Now clean that up." With that he retreated to his chair and the news.

*****

It was the next day I realized the phone had been removed, the small side table bereft of its constant companion, only its dusty outline remained to assure me it had even existed. I sighed as a dark shadow fell over me realizing there would be no more calls from my Mother. I rushed to the computer, as always it seemed to take forever to turn on. I sat patiently staring at the start up screen, but no to my relief the internet had either been overlooked, or for reasons of his own Master did not see fit to remove this lifeline to the rest of the world.

I sat for long moments feeling like a participant in a game of Russian roulette, was it a trap, or merely he did not feel the presence of this service a threat? Finally my desire to talk to others won out, and I sat feeling like some front line journalist in a war torn country desperately trying to get my story through, in spite of the inherent dangers. Cleo purring on my lap oblivious to my mission.

*****

The close of another week arrives and as usual I have the day to myself. Cleo makes me so happy with her cute antics and her loving nature, she is already proving to be the light of my life. I do not feel nearly as lonely as I used to while Master is absent. I so treasure her. I get most of my duties done now quite swiftly as I am beginning to really settle in to Master's home. In my free time I attempt daily to learn all I can of his language via the internet. It seems I have a long road ahead, but I find with diligent study some words are beginning to stick.

The mail drops through the door and nothing has my name on it. It's very disembodying for me, not that I ever received an abundance of mail. However to get nothing, not a single thing, feels very odd, like I have been completely banished from existence. I guess in a way I have.

I was scouring the spare room for some reading when I came on some old photo albums. They were right at the bottom of the book shelf, dusty and forgotten. I took them over to the light of the window and sat on the corner of the bed. I spent a long time engrossed in their faded contents, there it was a complete encapsulation of my Master's often mysterious history. Photos of his childhood, his big brother, and his mother and father who I still hoped he would someday let me meet. I could see plainly Master got his size from his father but his handsomeness came from his mother. She had been very beautiful indeed.

As I flicked through the pages I watched him grow from the blonde cheeky boy, to the angular teenager, and into the man he was today. As he aged there were many unidentified people in the pictures, I wondered who they all were, knowing I would never directly ask him. My fertile imagination running wild.

There was one nameless person who captivated me and I burned to know just who she was? She was slim, dark and young, with full lips and a thick mane of dark burgundy hair. Her eyes haunted me in every photo, and to me she looked sad, somehow betrayed.

I closed the book, and got down on the floor to put them away, but they did not want to return to their tight place in the base of the book shelf. Cleo was not helping me either by constantly clamoring into the unoccupied space. I then realized there were some CD's that had fallen down, preventing them from doing so. I pulled them out, they had nothing written on them, perhaps they were music or something?

I replaced the albums and went to the computer to investigate. To my delight they were not music at all but some more modern photographs. I flicked through them stopping at some, skipping swiftly through others while I drank my tea. I was greatly enjoying my find and learning about Master's past. Until I opened the folder with the pictures of the sad girl that is. I stared at the disturbing images on the screen, my hand to my mouth in silent shock. I realized I was not the first.

My good sense told me not to delve further but the damage was done, the files were dated 2014. This was long before we had met,

who was she, where was she now? Of more importance to me was, did he still see her?

I felt ill in the pit of my stomach and a cold sweat crept over me, but I could not tear my eyes away from the photos of her naked flesh. The tattoo of the little sun on her lower belly in black, and her haunting eyes. She never looked anything but sad and vulnerable, and in some of the pictures she looked deathly afraid crouching on the floor smeared in what I presumed was her own blood.

If I wanted to doubt what I was looking at I could not, some of the pictures had been taken in this very house. I could not refute that. Master was clearly in some of the pictures as were other men; men I did not know. I found I had to look at them all in my morbid fascination, wondering if he would hurt me like that, who did she belong to, did she want what they had done? So many questions.

*****

The weekend was routine and the two of us spent it alone. I must confess I looked at him a lot differently than I had before. Perhaps he is a scary predator, the lion in the grass, and I the gazelle? I wondered incessantly about the girl?

Many nights I lie sleepless as I did this one past, twisting the slave steel about my neck. It rests heavy on my collar bone and my desires and fears rest heavy on my heart and mind. Life with Master is falling into a pattern, he uses me before he sleeps and even though sex helps sleep come to him easily, it seems to have to opposite effect on me.

I hate the nights, it's odd how the darkness and the quietude of night seem to enhance all human doubt. I look at his strong body asleep so peaceful next to mine, the immensity of his the brute power cannot be denied. I snuggle into his warm body marveling at how even though a man and a woman are seemingly poles apart, they appear to fit together side by side in their nakedness with perfection. Yes, the beauty of nature and the mystery of it.