Wall Of Hands

"And by all means, make yourself at home." That was the last thing Josh said to Brooke as he got into the limo to take him to the airport. That was three days ago, and Brooke still finds that line very funny.

Brooke had just finished college. She was twenty five years old, and got a late start to college. Being an art major with hopes of working in a larger gallery in the country she often found herself with little to no money. When she saw an ad in the local paper that a caretaker was needed for a small, reclusive estate a few miles outside of town she immediately called the number and asked about the job.

She was told by an older woman's voice that the job would require her to live in the house for one month and to be the caretaker. The owner of the house would be away on extended business. The woman explained to her that an outside caretaker would be needed because the month they had to stay at the estate would be in the middle of the summer, and that is when all of the regular staff would be on vacation. The owner of the estate gave his employees at the estate a few months off during the summer and they went on their way.

To Brooke, this sounded like a dream job. The pay was incredible, didn't sound like there was much to do, and she would get to crash at a small estate that was probably much better than any place that she had ever stayed. Being a smart woman she knew there had to be some sort of catch. She figured a million people would probably apply for this job. The woman on the phone offered Brooke an interview with the owner in a few days. Brooke asked the woman on the phone what the catch was, and the old woman paused and then told Brooke that any questions she had the owner would answer. She did tell Brooke that the owner was very picky about who he selected as a caretaker though.

So in a few days time Brooke found herself in a regular looking office building dressed up in her interview suit and was waiting for her interview. Before he walked into the room Josh, the owner of the estate, looked through the doorway and saw Brooke sitting on the chair, waiting to come in. She was short, about 5'3" or so, and had short, blondish reddish hair. Very smooth skin and bright green eyes. Her build was very thin but athletic. Josh found himself admiring her for a moment or two before he walked in. Unless the words out of her mouth were completely dreadful, she already had the job.

When Josh walked in and introduced himself, Brooke stood up quickly and shook his hand. Josh was a man in his mid to late forties, but looked much younger than his age. The only give away were the gray strands of hair that ran through his raven dark hair. Josh refused to dye his hair, as he felt it was very unnatural and unmanly. He was about six feet tall and thanks to working out regularly kept in good shape. He was deep tan with piercing blue eyes, and Brooke felt as if those eyes were looking right through her when they first met.

The interview went very well. So well, in fact, that Brooke didn't even realize that she was being interviewed. Josh had asked her about herself and her art and they chatted about pretty much everything for the next hour. Everything, that is, except about the job. Finally Brooke took a deep breath and asked about the estate. Josh laughed and told her that he would be honored to have her watch the house for him. She immediately smiled and was very excited, but that voice deep inside her head, the dark skeptic within her, reminded her to ask about what the catch would be. She asked Josh about this and he stood up, frowned, and turned away from her. She became suddenly concerned and he took a deep breath.

"Well," he said "I knew this would come up sooner or later, and it may as well be sooner. I guess you are wondering why there have not been many interviews?" Brooke nodded, feeling her heart beat a bit faster. Josh suddenly looked very serious and sighed.

"Truth is, that estate is my getaway, my shelter. I like to go there when I need to be alone, and to shut myself off from the world. Because of that, the house lacks certain...amenities that most people are quite accustomed to."

"Amenities?" Brooke asked, not realizing that she was going to ask that. Josh shook his head slowly and looked guilty.

"Yes, amenities." He replied. "The house has running water, and very minimal electricity. Only to run the lights and the kitchen wares. Other than that, no electricity at all. That means no TV, no cable, nothing. I have a grand library of books, and a great pool out back, but that's it." Josh turned away from Brooke as if he had just announced that he had stolen money out of a charity's donation fund.

Brooke suddenly realized that she was being teased and she stood up and hit Josh in the arm. Not light either, mind you. Josh turned back and Brooke could see that he had been trying not to laugh the hold time.

"Bastard!" She hissed, and then suddenly realized she should not have said that to her new employer. Josh merely continued to laugh and he pulled out a portfolio from his desk. He opened it and she saw pictures of the estate before her. It was rustic, quaint, and absolutely gorgeous. She quickly forgot she was mad and could only stare at the images.

"So what do you think?" Josh asked while she flipped through the pages. Without looking away from the pictures Brooke replied.

"It's amazing."

The first week or so Brooke was at the house she enjoyed herself immensely. To say that the estate was secluded doesn't quite describe it correctly. She was in a car for over an hour driving through the countryside to get to the estate. It was located in the middle of a deep forest. Because it was summertime all the plants and trees were in bloom, and it was almost too perfect. Brooke spent the first week getting herself situated and exploring the grounds. The pool out back was in the shape of a natural lake and she made sure to make use of it quite often. It was so amazingly quiet and peaceful at the estate she just could not get over it.

And, as Josh had warned her, the electricity was minimal so the lighting wasn't that great. She used candles now and then to get around. Her tasks were very easy and she found that she had most of the days free to herself. There was a large library she discovered, holding mostly classical books and books on business. There were a few tomes she found in some out of the way shelves written in a funky language in real ink that kinda creeped her out, so she left those alone.

At night she would sleep in a wonderfully soft bed alone. The first few nights she was a bit shy and wore a nightie, but by the fourth night she realized that was silly and slept in the nude. The silk sheets danced across her naked flesh, and she found that the air in the countryside did wonders for her libido. To be blunt, at nights she found herself usually quite horny. She had packed a few of her toys and found herself using them quite often before she could sleep.

The second week Brooke broke out her art supplies and began to work on some of her paintings. She figured she would knock some rust off and paint the landscape around her. Not usually her bag, but she figured she would give it a whirl. She would sit by the pool with her easel and work for a few hours. She would get a snack, take a dip, and then paint some more. She found it so amazingly relaxing and her hands were flying over the canvas, as if she was not really controlling them. It was pretty rare when she got in the zone, but when she did there were times it was better than sex. Well, most sex that is.

After a long day of painting Brooke found herself yawning. The light was fading behind the trees and she knew she would have to make her rounds and get ready for bed soon. She found herself turning in early each night (though she really had no idea what time it was. No clocks in the house and the battery in her watch died the day she got there.) She was going to put a tarp over the canvas to protect it, and then noticed the sky was full of bright stars so she decided against it and went inside. One last snack before she bathed and hit those blissful sheets. Once inside the kitchen she placed the only modern convenience she had (a cell phone Josh gave to her to use in case of an emergency) onto the table and made her snack. As she was fixing her snack she could feel her inner thighs getting warm, and the warmth began to spread across her stomach to her chest. She sighed softly and then began to think about which toy to use later on.

The next morning Brooke made her rounds and saw her painting by the side of the pool. She went over to study it and saw that she had done a fairly good job. She had painted the side of the estate as it was blended into the forest and it looked really cool. A growl in her stomach reminded her that she had not eaten breakfast, and she was famished. She really wore herself out last night.

As she turned away to go inside her eye caught something unusual in the painting. It was not very obvious at first, but from years of studying art her eyes were very used to picking out parts of a painting that were unusual or did not belong. She turned back towards the painting and squinted at the lower left hand of the house in the painting. Sure enough, there was a slight discoloration, and she focused in she saw a very small set of stairs going down and a very small doorway going into the house. Almost looked like a set of steps going into a basement, of some sort. Now Brooke was very confused. She knew from exploring the house that it had no basement. And, to further complicate things, she was looking at the real house in the spot where the stairs were in the painting and there were no stairs. She moved from the painting to the spot of the house.

Vines and weeds were growing up exactly where the door in the painting should have been. Feeling silly she realized that she must be imagining things. Then she also realized that she didn't remember painting a door or steps at all. She quickly ran back to the painting and the steps and door were still there. She looked around nervously, as if someone else had snuck onto the estate grounds and painted those steps and stairs on the painting as an act of vandalism. Then she felt foolish again and went in to get breakfast. Perhaps her mind added that piece to the house to give it more flair. Yeah, that was the answer. Her own personal touch from her subconscious. She hoped.

By the end of the third week, Brooke finally realized why there were not many applicants for this job. She was bored out of her freakin' mind. She had read as many books as she cared to see, she found that she didn't want to paint a damn thing, and for the past few days she wanted nothing to do with her toys. She would lay out, try to tan, but found that she was always restless. The final week of her stay was going to take forever, at least that's how she felt.

The fifth night of her third week the air around the estate had gotten a chill to it. A bit odd, considering it was late July, but nonetheless it was a bit chilly out. Brooke woke up from her naked slumber and was shivering. She quickly put her nightie on with some panties and went back to sleep. While she was falling asleep she sensed a warmth around her and she fell asleep.

When Brooke woke up again, not long after that, she was completely in shock. Moonlight, almost as bright as the day, was pouring through her window and right onto her face. She sat up in bed, completely awake, and a bit annoyed that the moonlight would dare to wake her. Grumbling she got out of bed and went to the window to close the curtains. When she got to the window she saw the pool area completely lit up with the moonlight and she paused. It really was quite beautiful to see the water of the pool dancing and shimmering with the soft caress of the moon's kiss, and the light made the trees behind the pool seem so very far away. Her painting was still standing by the pool and it had a soft glow about it. Suddenly Brooke realized she must still be asleep and still dreaming, as paintings do not just glow in the moonlight.

Very curious and finding that she probably could not go back to sleep, Brooke grabbed the cell phone from the night stand, tucked into the elastic of her panties, and went out to the pool area and found herself bathed in the moonlight now as well. Her skin took on an odd color and her colorful clothes became gray. Had she had time to really thing about how strange all this was she might have gone back inside. Instead she found herself being drawn to the painting. When she looked at it the colors on the painting were also faded, except for the door in the lower left hand corner. It was softly glowing a light blue. In her mind she pieced it all together and she walked over to where the door should be at the real house. She moved aside some thick weeds and touched her hand to the cool wooden planks behind. The area she touched began to glow a soft blue and she heard a "click", like a door was being unlocked. She pushed on the planks and they gave way, revealing steps going down. The steps were illuminated by the moonlight so there was no darkness to be seen.

Brooke walked down the steps carefully while her mind was racing. Where was she going? How could she not see the door before? Was she still dreaming? While her mind asked many more questions her eyes saw that as she went down the steps, there were small mirrors placed at intervals along the steps. Her first thought was curious they were, then she realized that the mirrors were reflecting the moonlight into the room below. The artist part of her realized how very clever that was, though the rational part of her could not figure out why someone would do that.

She stepped off the last step into a small room. The wall ahead of her was all white, and on side of a room (to her left) was a large mirror. On the other side of a room (to her right) was a wall that had been painted black as midnight. The moonlight was filling the room and was being held there by the large mirror to her left. She turned to face the mirror and saw herself reflected in it. The room was now well lit, though with a very soft glow. Not too bright, but still light enough to see herself well. She waved at herself to make sure she was actually there, and her reflection waved back. While she was standing there, trying to figure the room out her eye caught movement. She was turning back to look at the black wall when something in the mirror had moved.

She quickly turned back to the mirror and saw her own reflection looking back at her. The reflection had a concerned and confused look on its face, so she realized that she did as well. She laughed slightly and felt silly. Her mind loved to play tricks on her.

Just then, as she stood there, her reflection waved to her, even though she had not moved a muscle.

Brooke's natural reaction was to gasp and back up. She did not realize how small the room really was and she back up right against the black wall. She expected the wall to be cold and clammy, like most walls were, but this wall felt...different. It was warm and soft, almost like she had backed up into another person.

The reflection in the mirror was now mimicking exactly what she did, so her mind told her that either she imagined it, or that it was messing with her. Brooke decided to move forward to investigate, but the wall behind her had other ideas.

Before she knew what was happening, hands and arms shot out of the wall all over and grabbed her. Strong, powerful hands grabbed her ankles and other hands grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms above her head. It all happened so quickly she had no idea what was going on at first. She saw the arms and hands come out of the wall in the mirror and she saw them grab her. Her mind, initially paralyzed with confusion snapped out of it and ordered her mouth to scream. She opened her mouth only to find that a large hand was now placed over her mouth, preventing her from screaming. She screamed as loud as should could into the hand, and no sound was heard at all. She begin to try to kick and pull herself free, but after a few minutes of pure terror and adrenalin coursing through her she realized that she was not going anywhere. The hands holding her were like steel, and she found herself sweating and panting with her efforts.

The hands, though strong as steel, were not hurting her. They had her in their grasp and they now slowly lifted her off the floor. Brooke could only watch herself in the mirror being lifted a few feet off the ground. Her arms were still above her head and her legs were slowly being spread apart. She thought about trying to keep them together, then decided it was best not to fight at this point. One would have better luck trying to bend steel bars with your teeth.

Once she was a few feet off the ground something unusual happened. She felt other hands come from the wall and begin to touch her lightly. They were smaller, softer hands, and they began to play with her hair, rub her shoulders, and massage her legs. Their touch sent chills up and down her spine. The hands were not cold and wall-like at all, they felt like actual, human hands. In the mirror Brooke could see that they were black hands that had come from the wall. She found herself feeling much more relaxed, and she took a soft breath and exhaled.

When she did that, the hand covering her mouth pulled away and sank back into the wall. Her mind was now somewhat numb as to what was going on so she just let her body enjoy the many hands caressing her. She could not stop them if she tried, so why even bother to fight them?

Soon the hands became more playful, and some hands began to rub her butt cheeks over her nightie, and other hands played up and down her legs. Still others began to caress her neck in the spot that drove her crazy. A few seconds of that and another pair reached around in front of her and softly, ever so softly, began to rub her now very hard nipples.

Brooke felt that warmth build up from her inner thighs and begin to work up over her tummy and breasts again. She felt her breath getting shorter and she could watch the whole thing in the mirror in front of her. The hands on her chest were cupping them and massaging them while black fingers would pinch and tease the nipples. She felt sweat slowly dripping down her back and over her backside.

The hands then hooked their fingers over her panties and pulled them down slowly. Other hands unhooked her nightie and let it fall softly to the floor. She was now naked and being held firm against a wall of hands that were exploring all over her body. In her mind she realized that she had never been so turned on in all her life.

While her breasts were still being teased a set of fingers worked their way up her legs to where the heat in her body was growing. She moaned softly and bit her lip as light fingers traced their way around her aching lips and softly rubbed the bit of hair she had. She arched her back slightly and felt her hips moving back and forth. The fingers now began to stroke her lips, and she felt her clit throbbing, begging to be played with.

Her whole body was now on fire, and she could hear herself moaning over and over again. The fingers on her lips found her clit and began to twirl around it, driving her absolutely wild. The blood ran from her head and she could feel an orgasm building quickly within her and before she knew it she exploded. She cried out in pure pleasure and her entire body was quaking.

Before the orgasm's ripples could subside she felt another hand join the hand between her legs. The first hand kept rubbing her clit and the second hand begin to slide its fingers deep inside her. The fingers were very careful and deliberate, and because she was so wet they were able to penetrate her with ease and no pain at all. Brooke gasped as three fingers filled her up and stretched her out, and it felt wonderful.