"It gets dark so quickly at this time of year," she said, sadly. Meggie was going out to do some shopping, and I did not know that was the last time I would see her while either of us was a free person.
I continued to write the letter I had begun to my editor, and I was getting angrier with him and the situation as I wrote, when there came a knock on our front door, which no one ever uses in this town. Setting my letter aside under my blotter, I got up rather grumpily and went to see what stranger was trying to come in that odd way.
"Yes . . . ma'am?" I asked, looking a bit ga-ga, I'm afraid, as I regarded the apparition which had appeared on our doorstep. This woman was probably about thirty or less, but sophisticated-looking, at least. She was smartly dressed in a dark blue pantsuit, with a bright red vest peeking over her low-cut jacket, which she filled very admirably, too. Despite the quick once-over I gave her form, and much as I wished to peruse it once more, I could not take my gaze away from her, once we made eye-contact. For several minutes, it seemed to me—she told me later that it was less than fifteen seconds—I fell into the depths of her odd-colored irises and then surfaced as she said in as dulcet a tone as I've ever heard,
"My dear fellow, you're my slave. You will do exactly what I tell you to the very best of your capabilities, understand?"
"Yes, I do," I answered, a little amazed that I felt no differently from before, save that the memory of her eyes remained with me . . . forever.
"Good! And your name?" I was startled for a second that she did not already know it, but then said, cheerfully,
"Why, ma'am, it's Jake Garfill."
"And do you live alone here? Is this your home?"
"No, ma'am, not alone, I have a . . .uh ..."
"Girlfriend—wife—lover?"
"Uh . . . ‘significant other,' might be the best term, ma'am, as she's almost my wife. We're going to be married if and when I sell a major story."
"Ah . . . you're a writer?"
"Well . . . yes, sort of. I've sold to a few minor magazines, but I'm trying to break into the big time. . ."
She held up a hand and my mouth snapped shut.
"You'll write about this experience, keep a diary if you wish . . . is this your girl, coming up the path, now?"
Actually it was my sister, but I nodded, she was (had been) my "girl" for some years. I found I could not perpetuate the lie, though.
"That's my sister, Eloise," I blurted.
"She usually comes around?"
"Oh, yes, nothing unusual about her stopping by."
"Does she live here, or where?" This woman was cautious and canny.
"She lives all alone since our father died last year. She lives in that big old house at the end of town, back in the woods." I wish I knew why I had volunteered that information.
"Hello, Eloise," the woman greeted my sister, who started back in surprise. She did not recoil sufficiently to avoid the woman's mesmerizing gaze, though.
"Have a seat, Eloise. Jake and I were just discussing moving his family to your house."
I asked myself, but said nothing for she had silently told me to be quiet. She had quite a mind, did the Mistress.
"Oh, this woman coming now must be Jake's wife-to-be, eh, Eloise?"
"Well, yes, that's Meggie. Jake, I didn't know you and she..." Mistress's silent command cut her off sharply.
"Eloise, behind the door. Hold her arms when she enters the room. Jake, you move as though to kiss her, and I shall take her into the fold."
That was how it worked, and Meggie (Margaret) suffered no physical ill-effect whatever. She smiled at the Mistress.
"Why, hello, Jennifer, what have you done to me?"
"Taken you ‘under my wing,' love. You know me, don't you?"
"Sure, from those silly hypnosis courses we took together at—gee, where was it, ‘The Mind Institute,' wasn't it?"
"Good memory, Margaret. But you no longer remember me, or where we met, do you? I am the Mistress, nothing else."
"You are the Mistress," replied Meggie, quite cheerfully.
"Tha-at's right, my girl. Now, let's have supper, it's going to be . . . what?"
Well, Meggie and I had planned toasted cheese sandwiches, but the Mistress had other ideas, and we wound up with crisp bacon, crumbled on the toasted cheese, which she instructed Meggie and Eloise to make as rare-bit, Worcester Sauce, stale beer, and all. Tasted pretty good, as a matter of fact.
Whatever we did for the rest of the night, except go to bed and sleep soundly, I don't remember, but the Mistress told me ("for the record," as she put it) that it was a normal evening. Later, which I am permitted to tell you about, a great deal happened, very interesting things.
v v v v v v
The day after the Mistress arrived was a Saturday, and I usually "took Saturday off," that is, I did no writing that day. I had claimed that I needed to "rest my weary mind," and I pretended that I had done a week's work every Saturday. Most Saturdays, too, Meggie and I made slow-evolving, eventually truly passionate love to each other, save those Saturdays when she was "hors de combat." This had always been of the "passionate talk but conservative action" type when we finally had each other so hot we could no longer confine our caresses to touches.
This Saturday, when we awoke, Mistress was already in the room with us, and she smiled brightly as she told us to attend to our usual morning ablutions, brush our teeth "very carefully," and return, naked, to the bedroom.
When we did so, Eloise was awaiting us, also naked. I had not seen my sister's body since pre-teen days, and I was astonished at how much she had grown! I grew something to match.
"Quite attractive, is she not, Jake?"
"Yes, indeed, Mistress, very pretty."
"You and she will make love to each other—understand, Eloise?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"Be very interesting, or I shall have to instruct you in various ways of pleasing each other. You may not have coitus until I tell you—understand?"
We said, in chorus, "Yes, Mistress."
I turned to Eloise, who was moving toward me. I had an erection already, an erection on which she placed, and then around which she wrapped, her hand. I shuddered with the intensity of my feeling, and my penis burgeoned and lengthened as she slowly and gently massaged it, moving the foreskin back from the glans. I reached carefully but urgently for her breasts, which were larger and firmer than I had thought the previous night. I caressed them lightly as they hardened, then bent and suckled her nipples, one after the other, back and forth, my tongue playing with them as they stiffened and grew fat and erect, like my throbbing prick.
I put one hand down onto Eloise's small bush—I could feel that it was trimmed for wearing a bikini—and felt the moisture already oozing from her nether lips. This excited me even further, and I rubbed my belly slowly back and forth against hers, making it difficult but far from impossible for her to manipulate my prick, now urgently seeking those same lips from underneath my fingers, already within her.
I probed as Eloise rubbed against me, finally relinquishing her soft grip on my prick to wrap her arms about my upper body, under my arms. She pulled me to her without a word, but we both knew that we had but one course of action, since we were forbidden the ultimate pleasure of an immediate fucking release.
