A Slave To Lust Ch. 02

Whatever the businessman's thoughts or intentions, he kept them to himself. Sheila spent the last few minutes of the flight feeling sick, disturbed by the dark thoughts that plagued her. Once off the plane, with her bags in hand, she begged off the invitations of her friends to the obvious "Welcome Back Home" celebration. She just wanted to go home and lock herself in her room. A sense of relief came over her once her cab pulled up to huge mansion she called home. Quickly paying the driver, she grabbed her luggage and hurried inside.

She walked into the entrance hall and dropped her bags on the floor, just inside the double doors. The loud thud they made echoed through the high-ceilinged room. One of the house staff, a young woman carrying an armful of linens, poked her head through a nearby door way to see what the noise was and Sheila fixed her with an icy stare.

"Tell Benjamin to take my bags up to my room immediately!" Sheila demanded of the young woman. "Oh, and tell him to bring me a bottle of champagne, too." She had turned away from the woman and was already walking up the curved staircase to her room, without a backward glance.

Once in her bedroom, she peeled off her clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor and took a long, hot shower. She almost felt normal when she emerged, toweling dry and then wrapping herself in a luxurious, pink robe. Laying back on her bed, she clicked on her TV, not really watching it and absentmindedly toying with one of her nipples. It stiffened in response and drew her attention to the lust that had been hovering in the background ever since her flight. Some commercial was on the screen, a beach scene with muscular, half-naked men and bikini clad women. Her heart beat quicker and she felt herself moisten, as she wondered which of her dildos she would use to masturbate with. She hadn't realized how entranced she was becoming until a sharp rap at her door broke the spell.

"What!" she yelled at the door, annoyed at the interruption.

A familiar voice came through the door. "It's just me with your bags, Miss Benson. Shall I leave them in the hall or would like them brought in?"

"Bring them in. What the fuck took you so long!" Sheila reluctantly stopped touching herself and pulled her robe tighter, remaining on the bed.

The door to her room opened and a man carrying her luggage and a bottle of Champaign walked in. Dressed impeccably, as usual, Benjamin placed the bags carefully at the base of one of her dressers and set the bottle on the top. He stood and turned to her. "How was your flight home, Miss Benson? I'm sure you must be exhausted. Will you be joining the family for dinner this evening?"

Sheila looked at him hungrily, seeing him with new eyes. In the past, she barely tolerated his presence. For one thing, he was old, at least 50 in her estimation. More importantly, however, he was the help, barely worth her time or notice. That was before she realized what a large man he was. Broad chested, wide shoulders straining the jacket of his suit. He wore his greying hair tightly cropped in a crew cut. This and his square jaw made her think he may have been some sort of military in the past. She suddenly realized she knew nothing about him.

"Are you feeling well, Miss?" Benjamin found himself unnerved by the strange way in which she was staring at him. His mind flashed on the image of some predatory animal and a chill went through him. He shook it off, realizing that more likely she was on some sort of hallucinogenic drug.

"Ah, no. I'm fine, Benjamin." Her skin cried out for his touch, to feel his large hands hold her down and tear her clothes off, helpless to stop him. Once again, the deep sensation of fear emerged from this sea of sudden lust and she clung to it to regain some level of composure.

"I'm just ... just tired is all. I'll just stay in my room. I might not be down." She quickly looked away, trying to subdue her thoughts. When she didn't hear him leave immediately, the thought occurred to her the she should open her robe and beg him to touch her. It was with effort that she snapped at him, "Just fucking leave, okay! I'm fine!"

He paused for a moment more, knowing that it was his job to keep the members of the Benson family safe, but then turned to leave. "Spoiled, little, rich brat.", he thought disgustedly, internally rolling his eyes and hoping he wouldn't have to take her to the hospital because of a drug overdose. Continuing about his duties for the day, he couldn't shake the undertone of annoyance he felt towards Sheila, having dealt with the indignity of having to tolerate her rude and selfish behavior for the 12 years he had worked for the family. "Things would have gone differently", he thought ruefully, "if they hadn't caught me. The dishonorable discharge has totally fucked my life. If only ..." A dark mood polluted the remainder of his day.

A wholly different mood had encompassed Sheila the moment Benjamin had left the room. Unable to contain herself, she had scrambled for the drawer of her dresser that contained her toys and grabbed the 9" glass phallus inside, thick shaft, translucent with a swirl of grey and green colors, ending in a bulbous head. There was no consideration of foreplay as she shoved the object deeply inside of her, pushing it against the ring of her cervix in short, sharp thrusts. The fingers of her other hand swirled around her clit in ever tightening circles, before simply just grinding it against her pubis in a staccato rhythm. Her orgasm felt like a dam bursting and she screamed into her pillow to spare herself the humiliation of broadcasting her release to the entire household.

Slowly drifting down from her post-orgasmic high, a fear gripped her once again, sending her thoughts racing. How long would this last? How could she ever leave her room, knowing that this terrible lust would control her? Now her fear had a companion, as despair took up residence deep in her gut. Leaving her toy on the bed, she went to her other drawer of distractions, the pharmaceutical kind. Pulling out one of several half-full plastic prescription bottles, she opened it and shook two green pills into her hand. Opening the Champaign, she took a swig straight from the bottle.

"I just need to rest." she thought desperately to herself, "Just some rest, and to stay away from people for now. After some sleep I can figure this out." With that, she swallowed the pills, washing them down with another hearty pull from the bottle. "Just some sleep and I'll be fine." Crawling into bed, she took one more swallow, nearly half finishing the bottle and slamming it down on the bed stand nearby. When the feeling of numbness began to wash over her, she welcomed it and the oblivion that shortly followed.

Late that night, Benjamin had just returned to his private residence, located on the Benson estate, behind the mansion. Stripping off his clothes to take a post-workout shower, he paused briefly to admire himself in the mirror. "Not bad.", he thought, "for a guy my age." His hard body was still there, the result of his dedication to his hours of exercise, but age had allowed some padding to accumulate around his midsection. He felt the grey in his hair looked distinguished, but the white in his pubic and chest hair clearly advertised his age. The wrinkles that had begun 10 years ago had progressed, but these he had made his peace with. His was still a body that many, even 10 years younger, would be envious of. These were his thoughts as he entered the shower.

Drying off, still in his bathroom, he thought he heard his front door open. Living on the estate, he had ceased locking his door, but the sound of someone in his house now made him regret that. He tensed up and his military training kicked in as he looked for something he could use as a weapon. Seeing few suitable options, he wrapped a towel around himself and walked out of the bathroom into his adjoining bedroom. What ever he had been expecting, it certainly was not Sheila, his boss' teenage daughter reclining on his bed.

He tensed up even further as suspicion crept over him. The oddness of her presence in his apartment was strange enough, but even more than this, there was something indefinably different about her. As if this were someone wearing Sheila's body like a suit. She was clearly different from the person he had seen just a few hours earlier, yet it wasn't in the drugged and stuporous way he expected. The hungry look was back. Benjamin had never been a modest man, but her eyes seemed to wander over every inch of him, particularly the parts only covered with a towel. Instead of the sickly, tired looking bitch of a woman he had left earlier, she had taken great care in her appearance and seemed to be filled with an energy that filled the room. He felt himself stiffen slightly, despite his misgivings.

Propped up on a few pillows, that put her in a semi-reclining position, she had washed and combed her hair, placing them in two pigtails, that made her look very young. Her subtle make-up echoed this look, but that's where the young and innocent image ended. A faded Dio T-shirt molded to her torso like body paint, displaying her firm, round breasts and protruding nipples. A ragged pair of faded cut-offs slung low on her hips showed off shapely, smooth legs that stretched out before her. Her feet were bare, since she had discarded her black, sequined stiletto heels by the bed. A mixture of whiskey, patchouli and sexual arousal wafted from her, cutting through the smell of sweat from his gym bag.

"Lookin' good, Benji. You should wear a towel more often." She smiled seductively at him, one hand playing with her braid.

He raised an eyebrow at her for a moment, before walking over to his closet. He let his towel drop in front of her and then put on a tan, terrycloth robe before sitting down in a chair across the room.

"Sheila, I can see that you've been drinking. Let's overlook the fact that you're trespassing in my place; I know you don't care about that. But your father will be very unhappy if he finds out that you've been here and he is the one in charge of your trust. You don't want to be the poor little rich girl, now, do you?" He tried for a tone that was a mix of stern and protective. He tried to ignore that a seductive, teenage girl was sitting on his bed. "Why don't you just go back to bed and we can talk in the morning."

"I don't want to talk." She moved forward to sit on the edge of the bed facing Benjamin, allowing her legs to open you as she leaned forward. Her cut-offs were short enough and loose enough that she knew the flash of pink she was giving him. "I'm tired of boys, Benjamin. I want a man." She cooed at him, while her eyelashes fluttered and her lips formed a subtle pout.

"I'm flattered. I really am. I'm sure I should take this as a compliment, in some bizarre way. But I also realize that you're probably wasted, out of your mind and that you'll probably forget this all in the morning. So, please, go back to bed. Hell, go out if you want, just leave me alone. I value my job here and as pretty as you are, I work for your dad." He fixed her with a cold stare.

"Oh, come on, loosen up." She clutched her tits with both hands through her shirt. "Haven't you always wanted to feel these? Haven't you ever wanted to have a taste of daddy's little girl?" She stood up and turned around, presenting her ass and shaking it for him.

Benjamin stood up. "Okay, that's enough. Shall I call your father and let him know his little girl is in my bedroom?"

Sheila stood up, as well, walking over to Benjamin. She reached out traced lines on his chest with one of her long nails, glossy, bubblegum pink. "Oh, don't be a party pooper. You know you want me. I want to get done hard, rough. Just like that girl you did in Afghanistan."

The shock of her words sent ice through his veins. He grabbed her wrist hard. "What. The. FUCK! Did you just say?"

"Oh, you remember, Soldier Boy. The girl from that little village? You had fun with her, didn't you? Mmm, you hurt her bad, just like you're hurting me now. You're probably going to leave bruises, you ruffian." She kept eyeing him, licking her lips and flashing a devilish grim.

He pushed her, hard. she fell back on the bed, her smile never fading. "Okay, Sheila, just what the fuck are you playing at?" His voice was measured, but his anger was evident. He loomed over her, fists clenching.

"I'm not playing at anything, I just want to get fucked. Hard. And I think you're the man for the job." She was playing with one of her braids, looking up at him innocently.

"How do you know about Afghanistan? Who told you?" His anger simmered beneath the surface, but a confusion crept into him, uncertain at this strange, new persona of his boss' daughter.

She got up and stood in front of him, close, her lips just inches away, breasts pressing ever so slightly against his chest. She spoke in a soft, baby doll voice. "I know all about you, but, don't worry; I won't tell. I just need a man. The boys I've been with,... they just don't do it for me anymore." She placed her hands on his chest and let her long nails trace random designs over his skin.

He turned away, moving to the other side of the room. "Fuck this. This is just another one of your games." He looked her in the eye, pointing an accusatory finger. "Get the fuck out. I'm not playing!"

She returned his look, meeting his eyes in a playful defiance, and then turned to rummage through her purse by the side of the bed. She withdrew a small, handheld digital video camera, flicked it on and pointed the lens at herself.

Speaking into the camera, she said, "I, Sheila Benson, do hereby state that I want to get fucked. I want to get fucked hard and this is the video recording of that request. Let it be known that I am completely sober and am doing this of my freewill. If I should ever claim otherwise, this video is to be the official record of my true desires." She looked away from the camera and straight at Benjamin while speaking this last sentence. Keeping eye contact, she spoke to the camera, "I want to get used in the roughest way possible, and filled with cum."

With that, she snapped the camera off and placed it on the bed. Standing up and, once again, walking up to stand close to Benjamin, she said, "You can do anything you want to me, you child raping, shitty employee of my fucking family."

He slapped her, knocking her off balance for a moment. Seemingly unfazed, she looked back at him, smiling though a trickle of blood escaped from one of her lips. His eyes were wild, body tensed in a rictus of indecision. She dropped to her knees and reached out to remove his towel. Seething with anger and suspicion, he was still flaccid. Placing her hands on his thighs, she nuzzled his groin, nose buried in his pubic hair and laying little kisses on his scrotum. Blood started rushing into his organ, stiffening it, poking her cheek. From his vantage point he stared down at her beautiful tits, but failed to notice her split lip healing in seconds.

"I've treated you like shit for as long as I've known you. And I'll still treat you like shit tomorrow, because people like you are worthless to me. Now's your chance for payback. So, come on, faggot, choke me with your dick. Fuck my mouth like you've always wanted to." She smiled lasciviously up at him.

He didn't waste any time. Wrapping one of his large hands with her hair and gripping it tightly, he smacked her face with his fully hard cock. "Let me give you your wish, Miss Benson." he hissed and spit in her face before shoving his whole length into her mouth and down her throat, holding it there.

Her eyes bulged as her airway was blocked forcefully, but she fought the panic that this lack of oxygen triggered. He held her like this for 10, 15, 20 seconds, before pulling her head off of his dick. She gasped for air, as a mouthful of saliva spilled out, covering her chin and soaking the front of her shirt. He slapped his meat hard against her cheek, reveling at her messy face, mascara starting to run from her eyes, as tears streamed down. Forcing himself back into her mouth, he began to thrust his pelvis in and out of her slick, pink lips and laughed.

"So, the Little Miss is a bigger slut than I thought." Keeping his dick in her mouth, he angled her head up to look her in the eyes. "Look at me. Tell me you're a slut, tell me that you're my cock-sucking whore. Do it!"

She complied, but with her mouth full, it came out as, "Uh ah utt. Uhn ah haughk ukkn orr." She held eye contact for a moment more and then, when no further instructions were given, she began sucking him in earnest, gagging herself at times with her efforts. Feeling himself near the point of no return, he pulled her off his dick once more and, with a fist full of her hair, pulled her roughly to her feet. He looked at the mess he had made of her face and smiled.

"Stand right there.", he said, walking over to one of his dressers. He pulled out his own handheld digital camera and sat down in large, leather chair. Turning the camera on, he aimed it at Sheila, fine tuning a few of the settings until he was satisfied with the image. "Strip for me. Make it good."

She smiled again and looked first at him, and then around the room, searching until her eyes found a sound system. Walking over to it, she turned on the radio and tuned it a local hip hop station. Swaying to the bass, she walked to the center of the room and fixed him with another look, before fully giving herself in to the music. Still keeping the rhythm, she unbuttoned her jeans, slowly unzipped her fly and then turned around, bending over to slide them down her legs. She presented her full, firm ass to him, arching her back slightly, and then stood up, kicking her jeans away into another part of the room.

Turning around, she looked at him and squeezed her breasts through her shirt, pulling on her hard nipples that poked through the fabric. Leaving her chest, both hands held the bottom of her shirt and slowly lifted it, exposing her midriff teasingly, before pulling her top off and dropped it to the floor. Using her toe, she kicked them into the pile with the rest of her clothes, did a showy little twirl and looked back at him, arms outstretched.

Benjamin remained seated, expressionless, aiming the camera at her, catching every bit of her performance. "Sit on the bed, facing me." he commanded. Once she was seated, he continued, "Legs spread slut! Play with yourself; I want your pussy wet and ready for me."

Opening her legs to reveal her labia, already swollen and glistening with her arousal. "I don't think that's going to be a problem, Big Boy.", she said, snaking a hand down and caressing her clit just the same.

"Tell me what a slut you are." He stood up and walked towards her, camera keeping her face in the center of focus.

"Oh, I'm the biggest fucking slut you've ever seen, Soldier Boy. I am yours whenever you want me, however you want me. On my knees, bent over, begging you to cum inside me. Now come on and give me that dick." Sheila stood up herself and turned around, placing her hands on the bed and shaking her ass in his direction.

Keeping hold of the camera, he used his free hand to guide himself into her soaking, teenage pussy. He couldn't suppress a guttural groan as he felt himself sink into the tight wetness of her young body. Slowly, he began to slide in and out of her sopping hole. Her breathing quickened and she rocked her hips back to meet his thrusts.

"Oh, yess. That's it! Fuck me. Shove that fucking dick into me!" With this verbal encouragement, he grabbed her shoulder with his free hand and started pistoning the full length of himself into her, the flesh of her ass and tits giggling to this frantic onslaught.

"Oh, fuck. You feel so huge inside me! Hhnn." Her words degenerated into obscure babbling, as she moved one of her hands to play with her love button, while this huge man that had been her protector thrust himself violently in and out of her wetness.