Emma's Master Ch. 03

"T-touching me," I admitted.

"Where am I touching you?"

"On my pussy," I breathed. I pressed against my clit and a small sound escaped before I could bite it back.

"What about your breasts? Am I neglecting them?" Oh no.

I moved my hand to brush over one tip. "Your, your mouth."

"Yes?"

"You have it in your mouth."

I didn't know he'd moved nearer so I jumped when I heard his voice next to my ear.

"And?"

"And- and, you're sucking on my nipple," I whimpered.

"And my teeth? Do I graze it with my teeth?"

"Ahhh yes."

He brushed over the top of my ear and I almost came.

My breathing was getting harder.

"Slow down, baby, I'm not even inside you yet, am I?"

"No sir."

"Ok Emma now what happens when I start to slowly run my cock into that slick little pussy of yours."

He ran a hand down my back and it felt like he had set the area on fire.

I could almost feel his cock inside me.

"SSSo good." I shuddered.

He leaned down to kiss me and I moaned into his mouth.

"Now what happens when I start to move inside you? What happens when I brush up against that little bud of yours you're touching?"

It was unbearable, I thought I might actually ignite.

"Oh god, I'm going to come."

"Are you? I didn't hear a question Emma. Open your eyes."

I opened my eyes to his and drew in a breath at the fire I saw there, echoing my own.

He skidded a hand down my throat and rested his hand on my collar. I gasped at the contact and almost sobbed, "Please, please may I come sir."

He moved his thumb up to brush lightly over my mouth and my body almost exploded.

"Go ahead. Come. Now."

My fingers worked furiously. I could hear the wet sounds and didn't care as they slipped and pressed and thrust against my pussy.

He moved my hair away from my face and a few strands brushed softly against my cheek. I came.

I had never felt so aware of myself and everything around me. It seemed I could sense a cricket chirping three states away, I sensed every soul within a five block radius. My world was brilliant and unbearably colorful until finally the wave crested and ebbed away and I collapsed, wet with tears on the mattress.

He leaned down to my ear, wiping away my tears and whispered, "I missed you, little bird."

In the aftermath of my orgasm, I felt defiance creeping back into my limbs and I mumbled, "funny, I never even thought about you."

I had always been a terrible liar and he laughed at the overwhelming fallacy of that statement.

Of course I had thought about him. Once, in driving to some new location I had thought about the strong heat at the nape of his neck so intensely that I had crossed back over into another state before I realized in which direction I was heading. I had thought about driving back to Boston. About stopping in front of this house. About knocking on the door. I had thought about him standing in the open doorway...

But instead I had turned the car back around and settled in another lifeless county for a a cold and lonely winter.

____________________

The next morning I woke to the soft, soulful sound of strings and cellos emanating from the kitchen. Somebody had opened the door for me already and so I dressed quickly and headed in that direction.

Marshall was at the stove making what looked like pancakes and moving his hands in time with the music coming from the iPod on the counter.

"Marshall are you listening to Tchaikovsky?" I asked, with amusement.

He turned around and raised his eyebrows, "Da, my lady. I am making blinis."

"Oh boy. I think perhaps this house is too sophisticated for this block."

Marshall laughed, "I studied classical music in college, did you know?"

This was news to me and I made a face, "do you they require a college degree for aiding and abetting?"

He smiled and turned back to his blinis, "it doesn't hurt. And besides, that's where I met Jack." What the fuck was Jack doing in college?

"I don't understand, I thought he was some kind of legacy around here. Why would they send him to college?" Nepotism was definitely the name of the game in these parts and responsibility was generally assumed at the age of eighteen as far I had understood it.

He shrugged, "maybe you should ask him." Not likely, I thought. Nor was he likely to volunteer the information.

Suddenly, Marshall turned back around with a devious expression, pointing a remote in the direction of his iPod and spinning me around. A Journey song came blaring out of the speakers and I laughed, "this was not exactly what I had in mind when I mentioned the neighborhood."

"They can come over later. We'll do karaoke." I cracked up at the thought of a room full of grizzled and hardened criminals singing Lynyrd Skynyrd into a microphone.

"What's going on?" Jack was standing, disheveled and wild eyed at the door. We had obviously woken him and he was not happy about it.

"Ah, the man of the hour," Marshall said with a flourish of his hand, "come, we were just about to enjoy some blinis."

Jack shook his head and moved to take a seat, warming somewhat when he caught sight of my smile and motioning me to my cushion beside him. I had almost forgotten my servitude but I found, to my surprise, that it was not as difficult to perform the act this time.

Later, he had me follow him back to his room after an otherwise uneventful breakfast at his feet.

"What will you do today Emma?" He asked as he straightened his tie and looked at me from the mirror. An odd question, I thought. Could there be many possibilities? Read? Wait for him to come home and fuck me? But then a thought occurred to me.

"Do you think I could go outside? Just the backyard," I clarified. I could see that it was a beautiful day and I hated the thought of spending it cooped up in this stuffy prison.

My hair was still mussed from sleep and the wardrobe he'd afforded me did not contain a bra. I could see the gleam in his eyes as he said playfully, "Hmm, what would you do, I wonder. If I said yes."

Marshall had put me in a good mood so I smiled and eyed his zipper, "I can think of a few things."

He laughed, "Are you saying you'll suck my cock if I let you go outside? Won't you do that anyway?"

"Perhaps," I said as I looked down at his hardening length and smiled up at him sweetly. "But I wonder if it would be the same?"

"Oh ho! So you'd be holding out on me is that it? Isn't that a very dangerous thing to admit?"

"Maybe. Would you know?"

He regarded me for a minute and then smiled. "Okay, let's say my answer is contingent upon this cocksucking you are so sure of."

I gave him a sly look before I sank down to lower his fly, taking out his thick erection. It been a while since I had done this but I was confident I in my ability as the warm scent of him came over me.

I began the usual way. Licking up and down the length and then taking the tip in my mouth and swirling my tongue around it. I took a moment to appreciate the familiar, earthy, salty taste of him before I pressed lightly against the small hole at the head and licked up the bead of precum that had formed there. I heard him draw in a breath and I felt the power I had in that moment. I wanted to draw it out but he pushed at my head lightly and I got the message. I began to take his cock deeper into my mouth and I decided to try something I had heard about. I hummed.

He groaned and his hand fisted in my hair but I continued on relentlessly, vibrating against him as I took him deeper into the back of my throat. Here I had to go slower as it had been some time since I had fit something this large there but it was much like muscle memory and I managed to relax enough to take him without gagging after some concentration. Then I swallowed around his cock.

"Oh fuck," he almost shouted and I smiled.

As I felt him getting nearer and nearer to his climax I knew his self-control was waning and his ability to hold back from taking over and fucking my throat was probably chipping.

I kept my mouth around him as I wrapped a hand around the base and started to unbutton my blouse with the other.

When I felt him moan and start to come, I quickly darted my head away from his hand and stroked him as I opened my shirt and let him come on my bare tits.

He looked down at me in shock as he pulsed in my hand, spurting some onto my belly and upper chest as well. As he was struggling for breath I gave him a sideways smile and dipped a finger into the viscous leavings between my breasts. I brought it to my mouth as I held his eyes and sucked it past my lips. I continued until I was glistening and sticky but mostly clean of him.

Truthfully, I was as surprised as him. I had no idea where that last part had come from. I had only meant to give him a great blowjob but some crazed demon must have possessed me to do more.

He just stared at me as I sat back on my heels and buttoned my blouse back up.

"Go get a book and meet me back here," he ground out, his breathing erratic.

I stood up and walked out into the hallway to find the bookshelf. I felt like I was floating. I had never done anything like that before. It was exhilarating.

When I'd found a book that seemed interesting I walked back into his room hopefully. He was on the phone but he saw me come in.

"Well, what did you tell him?" He held up a hand to me and reached for a bedside drawer. I was distracted by the gun I saw there and didn't see what he took out. The sight of it was enough to remind me that this was not a game. The danger was very real and ever present in this neighborhood.

He made a sound and I tore my attention away from the gun and back to him as he motioned me out of the room and ahead of him.

"Well, that's unacceptable," I could hear him behind me as he steered me through the living room and to the sliding glass doors on the other side.

He slid the door across and I closed my eyes against the sudden barrage of cut grass and blue sky.

He nodded for me to step outside as he pressed a bottle of suntan lotion into my hand, giving me a pointed look. It was an order so I nodded.

"I'll talk to him about it. Leon won't be happy."

He kissed me and mouthed "five o'clock", as he stepped back and closed the door. I could hear him on the phone as he receded back inside the house.

Outside felt glorious after yesterday's imprisonment. Somewhere in my mind I knew it's possibility was shrouded slightly in the fact that this was still only an extension of my prison but I pushed that thought away. I wanted to enjoy these hours I had been afforded in the sun. Even if it was only a small backyard fenced in on all sides. I quickly applied the lotion to any exposed areas. I was very pale and did not want to forfeit future sessions on this side of those sliding doors.

_____________

Marshall stepped outside as the sun was starting to wane. I was sprawled out on the grass on my stomach, deep inside the clutches of the book in front of me.

"I heard you'd made parole."

I looked up at him, startling out of my literary reverie, "I've been instructed to retrieve you, my lady."

"Where's Jack?"

"Should be back soon if you want to come on back inside."

"Is it five o'clock already?" I asked, disappointed.

"Yes, I'm sorry."

I sighed and gathered up my book to follow him. It wasn't Marshall's fault, I knew. We were all under the same thrall of the strange and enigmatic man who called himself my master.

Marshall suggested some coffee and we headed for the kitchen. I tensed at the sound of voices on the porch outside the front door. There was the sound of a key scraping in the lock and the voices became louder.

"Jack, you see there is no other way to do it. No way at all really."

Jack was walking in to the dining room and my stomach dropped when I saw Tilson and his silent companion trailing behind him. Marshall looked up and Jack frowned at him, cocking his head at Tilson, "it appears we have company."

He had meant to emphasize that the company was uninvited and unwelcome but Tilson was oblivious, "You must talk sense to him, Marshall."

Marshall winked at me playfully, probably sensing my unease, "Sense? Sense and Jack? I'm sorry Tilson, I'm afraid I gave up on that a long time ago."

Jack rolled his eyes, laid a hand on my shoulder and leaned in to my ear, "be good."

Be good my ass, I thought angrily as I eyed the newcomers over his shoulder. Except it probably would be my ass so I let out a breath and let him pull me back with him to the table, dropping to my knees beside him.

His hand stroked through my hair as he and Tilson discussed something tersely. I could not tell what it was about. Jack always spoke about business in a kind of code around me and I was never quite sure if it was because he didn't trust me or if he was trying to protect me. What I could glean, however, from the tone of their voices was that Tilson was not happy about something and Jack was not budging.

"Listen," Tilson finally said, "why don't the girls go in the other room and see about making us some coffee so we can talk this out for real."

The other girl (Katy, I was quite sure now) stood on command and Tilson slapped her on the ass as she made her way to the door. I tensed and glanced up at Jack who looked bored but nodded at me so I rose and followed Katy into the kitchen.

We could hear the low rumble of their voices on the other side of the door but they had melted into an indefinable texture from this distance.

"Where is the coffee maker?"

I found myself slightly alarmed to hear her speak. She had seemed so docile in the other room, like an extra chair Tilson had brought along, inanimate and dumb. The fact that she was a person left me with a small aftershock of outrage. This was a person that asshole treated like furniture.

I motioned toward the coffee maker at the other end of the kitchen. "How can you stand him?"

"Eric?" She asked confused.

"Is that his name?"

"He is not so bad," she said.

"How can you say that? He treats you like dirt."

"He treats me like a slave," she looked at me with annoyance. I was struck by the life glowing behind her eyes.

"I do not expect to be treated differently. I am lucky that he does not take pleasure in beating me like some of their associates and that he does care for me in some way. He does not want me to be miserable."

"How can you not be? When you are a slave?"

She looked at me seriously, like it was very important that I understand. "Emma, it has been many years since I resigned myself to this fate. This is my life and as soon as I made that concession and looked for ways to make my life easier within the confines of that realization things became infinitely better. Trust me, you should heed this advice."

I could tell that her sanity and self worth was most likely perched atop this basic tenet but I said, "I do not know that I have it in me to do that."

She sighed, "Jack is not so bad at all Emma. You would do well to remember that."

"Leon?" I asked, wondering if she was perhaps alluding to him.

She tensed and spoke quietly, "Yes. He has already sold Lilly and claimed a new one. Lilly had become too," she grimaced, "compliant."

I shuddered at the inhumanity in that man and decided to just concentrate on the coffee for now. Katy poured milk into one hot cup and asked me, "how does Jack take it?"

"Black, I think." At least that's how he used to take it I believe. I wasn't sure anymore.

She looked at me like I had grown an extra head for not knowing my captor's preference for cream and sugar. As if, at the moment of my abduction I should have protested, "wait! Please, I must first know your thoughts on creamer."

I rolled my eyes and swiped the unembellished beverage out from under her, heading back out into the dining room.

They looked up and stopped talking when we appeared in the doorway again. Jack was leaning back in his seat, looking even more indifferent to the conversation. I could tell this was setting Tilson off and Marshall was watching him warily, ready to step in if things took a turn.

Tilson was closest to the kitchen and I had to pass him to get to Jack but I didn't notice he was jutting a foot out from the table. Probably on purpose. I stumbled over it slightly and a few drops flew out from the cup I was holding.

Out of nowhere Tilson backhanded me across the face. "You little whore! Watch where you're going!" I stumbled back, spilling the coffee fully onto the floor and reflexively bringing up a fist to fight him.

Before I could make a move, though, I heard a grunt and Tilson was on the floor beside his chair. I looked up startled at Jack who was crouching down beside him, wrapping his hands around his neck and dragging him up to face him.

"I'd tell you to get the fuck out of my house but I believe the implication is clear." His voice was low and dangerous.

He dropped Tilson's head so it fell with a thud against the wood floor and turned to steer me toward the kitchen.

Marshall was already there pulling a pack of frozen peas out of the refrigerator. Jack took it from him and said, "make sure he's gone before I get back out there or I'll kill him."

My face was throbbing and frankly his maniacal expression of rage was scaring me a little so I stumbled as I backed against the counter.

He seemed to notice my fear and the cause of it because he closed his eyes for a second and took in a few deep breaths before he opened them again. His appearance had changed significantly but I could still perceive a slight flicker beneath the cool depths.

Advancing toward me with the peas, he lifted me sitting onto the counter and pressed the frozen pack of vegetables to my burning skin.

I flinched a little when it touched the sore flesh and the fire flickered back across him for a moment.

"He is no longer welcome in this house."

Suddenly, I felt anger taking over my body. I wasn't even sure who I was angrier with, Tilson for hitting me or Jack for knowing him.

"Don't you see though? Don't you see he's not even the worst?"

He looked at me solemnly for a moment, hand still holding the frozen package to my cheek.

"This is my life Emma. It has always been this way here. My father, my father's father. I am as much a part of it as they are. As you are."

"You could leave. You could just go. Jack, you could just pack a bag. Just open the door and walk away." I could feel the desperation in my voice as I pleaded with him to see the sense in this act.

He dropped his hand and said softly, "It's not that simple, baby."

"Why not?" I was starting to cry. "I did it. I don't understand why you choose this! I can't understand it!"

He sighed, "What you had was not a life, Emma. It was a variation on hibernation."

Marshall was standing in the kitchen door quietly, "He's gone."

I turned my tear-streaked face away from him. "You all right, Emma?"

I wiped the back of my hand across my face quickly and composed myself. I could sense Jack still looking at me, the forgotten peas hanging from his right hand.

"I'm fine." If I said it enough times it was supposed to come true, right?

I turned to Jack and pointed to the peas. "Can I have those?"

He looked down at the pack of small vegetables like they had suddenly sprouted out of his hand. Coming back to himself, he said, "Yes, here. Go clean up and get into bed."

I walked back to my room dejectedly, showering and changing into a clean t-shirt. I was so worn out with emotion that the bed practically enveloped me as I fell into it.

I woke up suddenly when the mattress dipped behind me. I couldn't see him but the overpowering scent of him washed over me as he slid beneath the covers and his arm came around to grip my chest tightly.

A few minutes later, his breathing evened out and it brushed against the back of my neck.