“Shit, what’s wrong with me?” Blaine said, stepping out of the way, his arm sweeping back toward the two women. “This is my wife Kathryn, and that misbehaving girl there is Erica.”
The kneeling woman’s head drooped, her face coloring. Blaine stepped close though, stroking the curls at her temple, as if to calm her, Erica’s head tilting into his touch.
Kathryn rose to her feet, smoothing her skirt down and setting the crop across the long thighs of the kneeling woman. The charcoal gray of the skirt set off the pleasing sweep of the blonde’s hips, her dark gray coat draped over her shoulders. The blue of her eyes sparkled as she took in each of the new arrivals in turn, seeming to assess each with merely a glance, the pleasing pale gloss of her lips curving into a gentle smile as she looked at Kirsten.
“You look beautiful, my dear.” Kathryn’s voice was smooth, cultured, seemingly at odds with the rough plain-spokenness of Blaine. “It’s nice to have some more estrogen around here. Erica and I can’t keep up with all the testosterone at this place.”
Kirsten looked down, trying to hide her smile. “I can relate to that.”
Striding forward with a hip-swaying confidence Kirsten instantly envied, Blaine’s wife shook hands with Keihl, giving Tom a quick, but warm, hug.
“Aw hell, you girls love it.” Blaine glanced back at Kirsten. “You try to hide it — but we know better.”
Jesus, that is a fine looking man.
She couldn’t help the image of Keihl, Blaine — and Tom — descending upon her like a pack of wolves. Taking, claiming.
Conquering.
Get it together, slut. What’s wrong with you?
Kirsten needed to change the subject. And the subject she wanted to ask about was the naked woman kneeling behind Blaine and Kathryn.
“So… do we get to say hello to Erica too?” Kirsten looked from Blaine to Kathryn, refusing to be intimidated.
Erica’s head twitched ever so slightly at the mention of her name.
Kathryn frowned a moment, then looked back at the kneeling woman.
“A minute is fine, Kathryn,” Blaine said, watching Erica as well. “I’m sure they’d like to get a look at her anyway.”
“Get up, girl,” Kathryn said, her voice suddenly cool. “Face our visitors and lace your fingers behind your head.”
Kirsten’s heart nearly stopped at that. “No, Kathryn, that’s—”
“Kirsten.” Keihl’s hand squeezed hers, a warning, and she shut her mouth, her blush heating her cheeks. Fortunately everyone was watching Erica at that moment.
Erica rose in a graceful motion that bespoke long hours of practice, the long muscles of her thighs flexing appealingly. Erica was taller than Kirsten expected, nearly six feet, she’d guess, despite being barefoot. She turned toward the group, her hands reluctantly moving up and behind her head. The thick collar prevented the girl from lowering her head, but she dropped her gaze immediately. She was young, certainly younger than either Kathryn or Blaine — perhaps early to mid-twenties. Her body was long and lithe, her breasts proportional but full, the bright rings pierced through the very hard nipples contrasting with the dark brown of the areolas. The line of her narrow waist flared to surprisingly wide hips for a girl of her athletic build. The thick shock of sable pubic hair between Erica’s thighs was a surprise — Kirsten didn’t think any females that girl’s age kept their pubic hair unshaved anymore.
“Love the growth,” Tom said, looking down at the very pussy Kirsten couldn’t help but gaze at.
“You wouldn’t believe the protests she made,” Kathryn said. “The girls these days — they seem to be allergic to hair down there. I think it’s quite attractive, actually.”
Keihl moved behind Kirsten, his hands coming around to cradle her belly in a way that made her sigh quietly. He pressed his hips against her, his erection jutting against her buttocks, letting her know the sight was arousing him.
There was a time such a thing would’ve pissed her off. But now? It was as if that time were in another galaxy, another universe. Now, all she had to remember was that she was his, that his arousal was something she didn’t need to fear. Instead, she reveled in it, though she wasn’t quite ready to admit to him that Erica’s bound, subservient form held an allure for her too that she’d never have expected.
You’re becoming a complete slut, Kirsten. And it’s not just hormones either.
So what if it was? She searched her feelings, for the truth of things. The truth was, she didn’t care. The truth was, she wasn’t ashamed anymore.
And the truth was, she wanted more. Always
more
.
“So,” Keihl said, his tone neutral. “Is Erica a… friend?”
His body tensed ever so slightly behind Kirsten.
Kathryn turned back to them, her hand on her hip, the white tips of her French manicured nails bright against the charcoal tone of her skirt. “Oh, she’s our slave.”
“Theoretically,” Blaine muttered, with a good-natured wink. “Kathryn keeps her mostly to herself.”
“Someone’s got to train her, Blaine.”
Blaine shot his blonde wife a glance, the gentle rebuke in his gaze just as clear as the heat Kirsten saw in the man’s dark eyes.
Kathryn’s face paled for just a moment, then she flashed him a quick smile. “I’m sorry. I get frustrated with how much training she needs — and how little time I have to give it to her.”
Blaine nodded. “Unfortunately, my wife here travels more than a goddamned stewardess. You flying out again tomorrow?”
Kathryn sighed. “The Three Lakes project in the Permian basin — it’s getting held up by the county again. NIMBY bullshit.”
“Thank God she enjoys project management,” Blaine said. “Makes my eyes glaze over most of the time.”
“He’s exaggerating,” Kathryn said with a shake of her head. “I just close the deals and fight the fires.
He
has to make them pan out.”
Blaine grinned, extending an arm toward the couch. “Have a seat, you guys. Tom says you’ve got questions. I’ve got answers — I hope.”
Kirsten sat down on the firm couch, grateful to be ensconced between Keihl on her right and Tom on her left. Their close proximity allowed her the courage to watch, to wonder… and maybe to wish.
Kathryn took the far end of the couch once more, a few feet separating her from Keihl. Erica sank to her knees once more, and at a snap of Kathryn’s fingers, the girl scurried forward on all fours, wrapping her arms around the blonde woman’s leg. Kathryn’s fingers stroked through Erica’s hair, the girl’s forehead laid against the woman’s knee.
Blaine remained standing though, warming himself by the fire, leaning an elbow on the carved wood of the oak mantle above the flames. The light from the fire cast flickering shadows across his handsome face as he talked.
“I’m assuming Tom’s told you a lot already, so hit me with whatever you think you want to know.”
Whatever we think we want to know?
Keihl cleared his throat. “Why me? Why did Stan invite me here? The guy all but threatened me — and he’s my client.”
Blaine and Tom exchanged a quick look, and Blaine looked down a moment before continuing.
“Stan… leaves much to be desired in the manners department. I’m sorry about that. But he’s a Prime — and I trust him. We all do. If he invited you here, then you’re the kind of guy we might be interested in.”
Kirsten could hear the growing irritation in Keihl’s voice. “And that is…”
“Membership in the Trust, of course.”
“Oh” Keihl took a deep breath, looking at Tom.
The doctor held up a hand. “Hear him out.”
Kirsten snuggled close to her husband, trying not to look over at the kneeling Erica, at the way she seemed to crave the touch of the cool, imperious blonde above her.
“Stan’s been watching,” Blaine continued. “The Coal Creek Development is a total cunt — and he knew it would be before he hired you. But you’re good, and he had a hunch you might be interested in working with us again — or maybe even more.”
“I’ve never seen anyone go to the lengths Stan did to hide the Trust’s involvement.” Keihl stroked Kirsten’s thigh, his touch comforting and possessive. “Why?”
“Stan’s got his reasons.” Blaine shrugged, giving Keihl a rueful quirk of an eyebrow. “I think he’s a little paranoid myself, but don’t tell Stan I said that.”
Keihl smiled, shaking his head. “I won’t argue with that.”
“Now, it’s time for me to ask a question,” Blaine said, his expression sobering.
Keihl looked down at Kirsten. “You okay?”
“Yes… sir.”
He gave her a quick peck on the forehead before giving Blaine a nod.
“Why are you here?” Blaine shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, leaning a shoulder against the mantelpiece. “I mean, other than the obvious.” Blaine shot a pointed look at Kirsten. “With her around I’m sure you’re not here to ogle the Terms walking about.”
“Terms?” Keihl glanced at Tom then back at Blaine.
“Terms of Service.” Blaine hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “You know those gorgeous girls from upstairs? Those are usually women serving Terms of Service. Typically wives, daughters, or nieces of members.”
Kirsten’s mouth went dry, though other parts of her body did quite the opposite.
“Why? I mean… what are they doing?” Keihl shook his head. “I don’t understand any of this.”
Blaine’s expression sobered, the light of the fire now a hard glint in his dark eyes.
“They do whatever they’re told. That’s the point. They serve.” Blaine held a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat. “My grandfather — he was one of the men who founded this whole crazy endeavor — he knew something about the rich, about the powerful. He knew they all had weaknesses, and no matter how much the wealthy and the powerful want the rest of us to think otherwise, they’re all, when you get right down to it, just like you and me. They’re human. They’ve got weaknesses, vices, and drives. My grandfather — Hayden Forster, in case you hear that name sometime — he used that, made it the glue that keeps this together. And it’s been more successful that he’d ever imagined.”
“Sweetie, we’ve… we need to excuse ourselves.” Kathryn stood, her hand stroking Erica’s head, the tall woman still kneeling at Kathryn’s feet.
Kirsten couldn’t help but hold a hand to her mouth as Kathryn bent over slightly, taking hold of one of the rings that pierced Erica’s nipple, and drawing the gasping girl to her feet with it.
“Of course,” Blaine said. “I’ll join you in few, Kathryn.”
Blaine’s wife turned to the rest of them, dipping her head in the slightest bow. “Was so nice to meet you two. I know we’ll meet again soon.” Kathryn’s eyes met Kirsten’s, the animal heat she saw there making Kirsten’s hands tremble.
“Good luck with the delivery, beautiful.” Kathryn slipped a glance at Keihl. “Lucky man, you are.”
Then Kathryn produced a leather leash, affixed it to Erica’s collar, and drew the silent woman after her, disappearing through the curtains leading back out to the hallway.
“Where’s she off to?” Tom’s voice was amused.
“To play. She’s been dying for some time with Erica since she got back in town. Being away from her plaything is the worst part of traveling. She’d have stayed home with that poor girl if I hadn’t forced her to come out here tonight.”
Plaything?
“No… men? I don’t see any men serving these Terms.” Keihl’s voice had gone lower, softer, but Kirsten couldn’t tell if it was from shock or caution. Probably both.
Blaine chuckled. “They aren’t usually compelled to serve. At least not in the same way.”
“I don’t understand.” Kirsten couldn’t keep silent any longer. “You mean the women are, what are they? Enslaved?”
Tom put a hand on her arm. “Kirsten, no. It’s not what you think—”
“It’s okay,” Blaine said. “Let’s hear her out.”
“Tom showed us… what it’s like. With Sharon.” Kirsten sighed, grasping Keihl’s hand and squeezing. He squeezed right back. “Is that how it is here, too? Do… all the wives — do that?”
“Submit?” Blaine’s head tilted. “What would you do if I said the answer was yes?”
“I’d walk the fuck out of here.”
Kirsten winced, the words flying out almost of their own volition. This… she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Part of her was more fascinated than she’d ever recalled being in her entire life. This whole surreal situation sounded like something out of the most lurid smut novel — or out of her darkest, most fevered dreams.
Maybe it’s both, Kirsten?
Blaine burst out laughing, clapping his hands together slowly in appreciation.
“You’ve got a live wire there, Keihl. Keeps you on your toes?”
“You have no idea,” Keihl muttered, not without good-natured humor.
Kirsten kept going though. She’d already stepped in it — probably — so she might as well dive in. She might even learn something.
“There’s something I don’t understand though— something you said. Glue. What did you mean by that?”
Blaine’s expression sobered, and he held out a hand to his brother. “You didn’t tell them all of it?”
Tom shrugged. “I thought I’d work ‘em up to it.”