Cabot Ross crossed the line.
From the second he stepped over the threshold into Roselyn Albright's 8.1-million-dollar mountain top home he felt out of his league. Raised middle class in Wildwood to always work hard for your future, a trait instilled by loving parents, he always kept a level head. Even when he tried suckering Margo Needy just to tap her hot ass when her son Elliot went to France. At first devious but as time went on, he grew to love Margo to the point of guardian angel. Here and now, he had stepped back into old habits just to help secure Margo's dream of financing a Bed & Breakfast to save her late husband's legacy.
While Margo might not necessarily approve of his deception here on Albright Mountain her own psyche needed the help. She would find a way to make amends when she too played border patrol. It wasn't like Roselyn was struggling financially like Margo was. This mission for Cabot was from the heart and he told himself he too would make Roselyn feel his dedication. Earlier seeing her in a nightie and sucking his cock so energetically he had a moment of inspiration. He might just rebuild this woman, diminish her physical flaws, treat her well, and if he did have to walk away, he would leave her thanking him.
"Beautiful home for a beautiful woman." He looked about the well-lit foyer, a massive open concept living room, kitchen, dining area, she even had a pool table and aquariums built into the wall. "No pets?" Fish didn't count.
She lingered behind him her hormones screaming for attention. Wearing this dog collar, she dared to admit. "Only koi fish. I guess I'm my own pet now that I wear this."
"No, you're MY PET! Get used to being treated as such Roselyn." He stepped in further, snapping his fingers at his side to coax her along, "You wanted me, you courted me, I'm here until you disappoint me."
"I will try my best not to Cabot. I've been alone a very long time. Yes, I've had many men up here, but they all demand the same of me. Sex, money, and more money. I will not give away my own future so easily."
"Sexually only! I made that clear. I can leave if you think otherwise." You go, Badass!
"I would like to know you better. I will serve you sexually, any and all things pertaining to. I must be protective of all other areas of my life."
"Understood! Like I said, spoil me as you see fit. The day I walk away I'll give it all back. When I can afford to spoil you in some fashion I will. Let's get to know one another, Rosie. Any beer in this castle?"
"In the downstairs fridge by the bar. I often watch movies in our, my theater and get drunk by myself. I bring men up here on rare occasions but most times until I feel them honest, I go for hotel rooms. I hope my inviting you here gives you hope that I'm putting faith into you."
"Because I gave away your thousand-dollar tip?"
"That was very admirable. You were the first to ever do such a thing."
"Take that nightie off, leave the stockings and garter." He told her without even looking, his curiosity exploring the artwork on the wall. While she removed her blue sheer nightie she toyed with her areolas. "These don't look professional."
"Good eye! I paint to relax. All mine!"
"You must paint a lot." He counts eight oil paintings within sight.
"Some were when my husband was alive. He would go off on business trips and leave me here to my imagination."
"My imagination from here on. When I leave you, I'll always find something constructive for you to do while I'm away."
"Sexually? If I'm nothing else... how would that work exactly?" She observed him strolling from painting to painting, hands held behind him at the wrist for a professional almost art critic look. He didn't want his hands in his pockets or folded arms to look uneducated. He had seen enough movies to copycat the actors. James Bond mostly!
"This painting. What were you trying to say while constructing it?"
"The pond? The row boat! Serenity I suppose."
"Point A to point B. OAR... you're lost. This oar is backwards compared to the other one. You can't make up your mind which way to travel. Unhappy marriage... correct?"
"We had our moments. He was a good man. I know he loved me. He... satisfied my needs even if he couldn't always do it himself."
"Such as inviting Darryl Needy to fuck the shit out of you?"
"Margo... my husband. With me as well. I have a chill; might we sit by the fire?" Fireplace well-lit but requiring stoked. No gas in the main living room, all wood. Nodding once more without looking back at her he turned toward the fireplace and took it upon himself to snatch up a fire poker to adjust the wood, throwing one more cord of cherry tree on to keep things toasty. In such a big room it was necessary to adjourn closer to feel the heat. Oddly enough she kept a bearskin rug in front of the hearth.
Once the fire danced wildly, a tribute to Wildwood itself, he stood up placing the poker in its upright position amid numerous other irons. He was used to stoking coals after last night's bonfire. "Panties off! Naked! Garters and all now." She complied with a sheepish effort wanting him to watch her undress. The bearskin rug reminded him of the first time he and Margo had sex in her basement. Just like this! Utilizing that day as inspiration he had a focus as to where this was all going. Eyes ignoring direct contact with hers, or even in her disrobing, Cabot instead stared up at the painting above the fireplace.
"No paintings of your husband?"
"He would never sit still for me. Are you really truly that fascinated by my artistic abilities?"
"Does this old building exist"
"Yes! It's the entrance to an old coal mine dug here back in the 1920's. The building is crumbling, barely standing now, but I captured it when we first moved up here in June of 2001. It was right after he and I married. I don't believe it's been in use since the 1950's."
"MINE! ALL MINE!" He recited turning to face her finally. Pointing at the rug he continued with, "Crumble before me. Your imagination is captured." Always use someone else's words to your advantage. Con Artist 101!
Trembling she dropped down to sit on the soft fur. "Well, at least my cave hasn't been out of use since the 1950's."
"None of that! You weren't even born in the 50's. It makes you sound as if you think of yourself as old."
"43! 44 next month."
"Young at heart! I'd be here even if you were 50. I am 19! Robbing the cradle they say." He grinned for once. "Lay back! Watch the flames, not me. Finger that pussy until I say differently. I'm going to find a beer and I had better hear you screaming over the acoustics in this place. Do you want a beer?"
"Just a bear." She giggled caressing the fur beneath her. "Hurry back Cabot."
"Lure me back! Loud and proud Momma Bear!"
"You so take my breath away."
"Oh, you're going to be gasping by dawn. Now get the fuck busy."
"Yes! For you, my Master." She immediately tormented her clit, watching the flames flicker wildly. Fingers relocating within her she plunged into her troubled waters. With Cabot stepping away she did defy him if only to look at her lake painting. The juices within her cunt the lake, her body the boat, the oars her mixed emotions. "Cabot is quite insightful." If not in sight himself. "Please lord? Let me keep this one. He... collared me like a dog."
Shivering at the prospect of actual ownership again after Wardell had departed, leaving her leash dangling at his bedside, she recalled how Cabot voluntarily offered to go exercise with her. The goals of pulling off these last 25 pounds on her wish list compelled her to give him a chance. "We shall see." The pet concept degrading but erotic just the same. Of course, she had been down this road before in serving her husband. "Please make him tell me to roll over." Moans echo! She would have to steam clean the bear. With no maid service she was on her own.
Finding of all things an elevator going from the main floor to either the second story or the basement Cabot puckered, "Fancy! Why not?" He pressed a button and waited until the door opened. Stepping inside he found the floor panel. Eyes flaring, he noted five levels. "No way! What the heck could possibly be three floors down?" Holding the door open he made certain he could hear Roselyn crying out. She sure was enjoying herself that's for certain. Nodding he pushed floor five just out of curiosity. Door sliding shut the elevator lowered quickly coming to a halt just as fast. Hissing open, with a dull thud he was greeted by darkness.
"Heated down here so it has to be... whoa!" Taking three steps from the elevator, sensor lights came on, illuminating a massive room with an underground pool. "Who would have thought they would have an indoor pool and an outdoor one. Nice! A sauna and massage room. Home theater even. Wonder what this room is?" He rounded the Olympic size pool and explored the side rooms, a sliding barn door revealing an open bar complete with dance floor. The decor spoke ballroom dancing. "I might have to take Rosie dancing down here." No beer at the bar. One more room was locked but through a porthole like window that looked like a big collar he could see dungeon aspects within, electronic fuck machines and the like. "Nice!"
The next room over was a wine cellar and a meat locker. "Hell let me remodel one of these bedroom's down here and I'll move in." He no more than said that he retraced his thoughts, "Nope! I like it at Margo's. Sad thing is now that I mentioned the pool job to Heath he's going to try to steal Rosie and abuse her finances for himself. Honestly, what red blooded American male wouldn't. She's too smart for that though. Bathroom? Good deal!" He hovered over a toilet and took a piss. Flushing, washing his hands and taking his leave he ventured back to the elevator. Fourth floor pitstop. This floor had a multitude of large bedrooms, like a few down below by the pool. Each housing a different theme from cave dwelling, to British Victorian, and even a Vegas casino feel which was one by the pool downstairs. His last stop on that floor found a huge surprise.
"I just knew there was another bondage dungeon in here like the one downstairs. Her hubby must have liked going from floor to floor. Damn! Both of these places put Darryl's attic to shame. Big cage hanging from the ceiling, sex swings in every corner, shackle mounts on cross beams to hang women on, or men I guess, if it's Rosie's fun." Losing track of time, he went up one more floor and found a fridge near a pool table and another bar. "With her husband gone I'm surprised she keeps the fridge stocked. I hope this beer isn't like three years old." Twisting the top off of a Bud he took a sip, "Tastes fresh! Makes me wonder if she entertains more than she admits. Is she playing me as much as I'm playing her?" Time would tell.
Heading back up to the main level, he heard her crying out still. "At least she kept her end of the bargain." Shuffling in he took a seat on the sofa across from her outstretched bear hug. "Big place you have here Rosie. I took the elevator all the way down. Seems to me this could almost be a Bed & Breakfast too."
"My husband liked to entertain. This was in a sense a swinger's resort. I'm surprised Margo didn't tell you about my home."
"Hands and knees, ass facing me. Fuck yourself sniffing Yogi."
"Yes, Master Cabot."
"We need a simpler approach to that. Let's start calling me... something regal, but not Sir nor Master. Maybe...?" He looked up at the painting over the fireplace, "Palette! I believe I like the canvas before me."
"Are you for real?" She sighed heavily, "Are you certain you're not just painting me into a corner?"
"Not many people know this... but I used to paint with my grandmother. For the longest time, then I discovered sports and... girls. That just gave me an idea. My grandmother's in a nursing home. Maybe I'll go buy a canvas and paint with her. Good bonding moment, right?"
"Really? I believe she might like that."
"I can't see up your cunt. Spread those lips." He was having fun trying to persuade her there was more to him than a simple waiter and wannabe chef. "I also discovered cooking. I may be a waiter right now but I intend to go to culinary school once I save up." Grow up as well!
