Of Crystals and Watches Ch. 05

A burly man stepped into his house, located in a rural area of Maine near one of the state's many small lakes. He shrugged off his leather jacket and hung it on the coat rack next to the door before looking at the package in his hands. He walked over to the living room couch and sat in it before placing the parcel on the coffee table in front of him.

It was unmarked, having been left for the man at one of the dead drops he had set up in the area so that potential clients could contact him. He was no longer in a stage of his career where he needed to advertise himself or his skills. He had long since cultivated a small but well paying group of clients who could supply him with jobs on at least a semi-regular basis. At this point the risk of the wrong person learning about his profession was greater than the potential payout of putting himself out there for hire.

The man ran his fingers through his gray but otherwise healthy looking hair. He had been in this line of work for over 30 years now and was wondering how many more jobs were left in him. Retirement was often a distant dream to an underworld hitman, but he'd been good at the job, so he thought he was entitled to dream a little.

Pulling a switchblade out of a jean pocket, he sliced open the package and spilled its contents onto the coffee table. The first thing to tumble out was a bundle of hundred dollar bills. Over his many years working in the criminal underworld he had seen a few people who could accurately guess the value of a stack of bills just by looking at it. He himself never developed the talent, but he could tell that this was a lot of cash.

The man shook the bag again, a burner phone falling out this time. It was standard procedure for him to have his clients to provide one to him when they offered a job. This way he could contact them at any time and dispose of the device safely without it being traced to either him or the client.

He shook the bag once more, hearing something rustle around in it. Taking the opening of the bag in both hands, he pulled it wider and shook it again. A small watch battery popped out and landed next to the bundle of cash.

So this was from that client then. They were the only ones who had ever offered him such a unique reward for a job. He didn't know exactly who they were, part of his service entailed not knowing his client's identity so he couldn't rat on them in the event that he was caught, though he never had been. Still, to be able to offer him something like this, they must be incredibly rich and powerful.

The man reached into a different pocket and pulled a crystal from it. He held it up by the attached chain and let it dangle. The crystal remained dull, though he knew that it was meant to glow when the chain was taut like this. The crystal had the power to entrance women with its light and make them obedient to the holder, he had used it many times both for his own pleasure and to acquire unwitting co-conspirators for jobs.

Unfortunately for him, it was not just a reward but also a method of control. The batteries for this thing ran dry fast, and the one currently hooked up to the crystal had died at a somewhat inopportune time recently. He had been at a bar a few towns over and had been able to get a pretty young lady alone with the intent of hypnotizing her to follow him to a motel room and let him fuck her any which way he wanted. But the battery died while he was in the middle of using it, leaving him with a woman who willingly followed him to the motel, but felt no compulsion to have sex once they got there.

One time he took the crystal to a fence he knew who specialized in moving electronics, one who was conveniently a woman so he could hypnotize her into examining the crystal's wiring without revealing its existence, a condition of his client allowing him to use it.

Once she had studied it, a slower process than normal since he had used the opportunity to bend her over her workbench and fuck her from behind as she went about her business, it revealed something interesting.

It was surprising how many secrets the chain held. The whole thing was rigged with micro-explosives and sensors. Try to put in a battery other than the specially modified ones his client sent him, it would explode. Attempt to mess with the wiring itself, the crystal, or the bombs and sensors, and it would explode. Furthermore, there was a receiver for remote detonation commands. While the blast couldn't cause serious injury in most cases, it would destroy the crystal and deprive the hitman of a valuable asset in both his professional and private life.

In short, he was allowed to use this wondrous object as a tool for his work and a reward, but he couldn't betray or disobey his client if he intended to keep using it. That, along with the piles of cash they gave him, was enough for him to consider this client his most important one.

The hitman put his fingers into the opened package, finding an index card stuck to the inside of it. He pulled it out to reveal a phone number written on it. He picked up the burner phone, turned it on, and dialed the digits.

"Hello, Victor," an electronically disguised voice said on the other end.

"You have a job for me?" the hitman asked. The covered up voice was normal for his clients, the fact they could stay anonymous was a major draw to them.

"Yes, and the boss considers this to be a high value target," the voice replied. "He's taken the liberty of giving $500,000 and a battery as an advance."

500K? Victor glanced down at the bundle of cash on his coffee table. He couldn't tell how much money was in it just from looking, but it looked thick enough to be 500 grand. That wasn't just large for an advance, it was more money than he had ever received for a single job.

"Why is he offering that much?" Victor asked. In his younger, more eager days, he would have been chomping at the bit to make that much cash. But he had survived in this business long enough to reach his 50th birthday, and he had to learn caution long ago in order to get there.

"Like I said, this is considered a high-value target," the voice replied. "Though I will say that the target stole something of great value to the boss, so you could say that this is something of a personal vendetta."

Victor leaned back in his seat as he considered this information. "That can't be everything. 500K? That's just too much."

"The boss is giving this to you out of a sense of generosity," the voice on the phone said.

"Is he now?" Victor questioned. This was the criminal underworld, generosity was a rare commodity to be bought and sold for maximum value.

"Yes," the voice answered. "He is aware that you are looking to get out of the game and wishes for this to be one final job so that you can retire in peace. Consider this a reward for many years of good service."

"How much are we talking about here?" the hitman asked.

"The advance is 10% of the total payout," the answer came.

"So once I finish the job I get another 4.5 mil?" Victor questioned, picking up the advance in his free hand and feeling its heft.

"That's correct," the voice confirmed.

Five million dollars. That was enough to retire on, especially since it was coming tax free. He likely wouldn't have another opportunity like this. Victor hadn't worked a legal job since he was 20, so it wasn't like he had a pension waiting for him or had paid a lot into social security. If he was going to sail off into a quiet retirement, this was his best chance.

"What about the crystal?" Victor asked, looking at the inert stone sitting on his coffee table.

"We will supply new batteries to you whenever you request," the voice answered. "So long as you keep with our prior arrangement on the subject."

"Don't worry, I will," Victor replied as he stood and walked over to his nearby desk, pulling a pencil and a notepad out of a drawer. "Who is the target?"

"A therapist going by the name of Reginald Davis," the voice began. "He's recently been arrested in a town in Montana called Montfort."

Victor wrote down this information on his pad before opening up Google Maps on his desktop computer. He put the town's name into the search to get GPS directions.

"It's probably going to take me about a week to get there," Victor commented as he studied the suggested routes. "Maybe longer if I hit a stretch of bad weather."

"That's fine," the voice on the phone stated. "The target isn't going anywhere soon."

"Understood," Victor replied. "Any special requests?"

"You may kill Davis in any way you see fit, but he must remain alive long enough to ascertain the location of the stolen item," the voice answered. "An associate will be joining you to handle that aspect of the assignment. They'll be flying into Billings, Montana next week, they'll call you at this number to arrange a rendezvous after they land."

"Will do," Victor stated. "I assume that I will not be told what this item is."

"That is correct," the voice answered. "Just know that it is extremely valuable to the boss."

"Very well," Victor replied. He wasn't particularly miffed that information was being kept from him. Part of his business model was that clients didn't have to tell him everything, after all. "Anything else?"

"Nothing, for the moment," the voice replied. "You'll hear from our associate next week." They then hung up.

Victor put the burner phone on his desk as he started making a mental checklist of everything he would need for this job. As he thought he wandered back to his couch and replaced the battery for his crystal.

He pulled the chain once the new battery was in place, letting that marvelous glow fill the room. From his perspective it looked like a cheap magic trick, something he might notice for a split second before dismissing it. He didn't know what, if anything, went through the heads of the women who got entranced by this thing, but it was there that its true power laid.

Victor let out a single chuckle. That power could very well end up leading him to an early retirement.

***

"Did you enjoy that, Master?" Desiree's cum covered face asked from between Jason's legs.

Jason's eyes opened. He was alone in his bed. It was just a dream. One that left him with a raging hard on, Jason noticed as he sat up. His hand hovered over the waistband of his shorts, mind filled with the image of that beautiful face with his spunk layered on top of it. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to jack off as he thought on that picture.

But he didn't want that kind of debauched lifestyle. He didn't, he'd been telling himself that since he was 13. He glanced over at the nightstand. He knew how to get her to do that again, all he had to do was get that crystal out. He slapped himself in the face for even thinking that.

He wanted to feel revolted over what the three ladies who were now his housemates had done to him, and a part of him truly was. They had forced themselves upon him in the most bizarre and uncalled for fashion. Yet, in this moment, he recalled the pleasure and idea of multiple women clamoring to please him fondly, though it was more a guilty pleasure more than anything at this point.

Seeking to pull himself from this line of thought, he climbed out of bed and grabbed his guitar. He sat back down and strung out a few experimental chords before stopping. Why was it that the only songs he could think of in this moment his parents' damned X-rated holiday music? With a sigh he abandoned the musical venture, laying his guitar against the bed frame.

Resolving to take a cold shower to purge himself of these thoughts, Jason stood and gathered a change of clean clothes. He stepped out into the hall, directly into oncoming traffic.

"Whoa, there!" Samantha exclaimed, putting her hands on Jason's shoulders and preventing him from running into her in a display of great reflexes. "What are you doing up this early? It's still a couple of hours until classes start."

"Oh, sorry," Jason replied. "I just...had a rough night."

"Anything I can do to help?" Samantha asked with a gentle smile. Jason looked up and down her body. She was wearing a security uniform, with a leather jacket slung over her shoulder.

"You heading to work?" he asked.

Samantha nodded. "Yeah, I got early mornings."

"Do you really have time for anything then?" Jason asked.

The redhead checked the watch on her wrist. "I can spare 10 minutes for something quick."

Jason tried to think of something to say, but his thoughts kept going back to the twitching cock in his shorts. Samantha's eyes caught on to the subtle movement of the bulge it was creating.

"Oh, I see," she said, blushing. "It was that kind of...rough night. Would you like me to...um...take care of that for you?"

"What?" Jason asked. "Wait just a..."

Samantha held out her hand in a 'stop' gesture. "I understand we got off on the wrong foot. We were too...forward, and we made some assumptions that turned out to be wrong. But I promise that none of us would ever mean you any harm. So I'll...um...make you the offer, but you're free to refuse."

"OK," Jason replied, still uncertain what to make of this situation. "Well, um..." He scratched the back of his head nervously, unable to look Samantha in the eye. His most base desires were demanding that he stop hesitating and tell her to get on her knees and blow him right there in the hall. The hesitance won out in the end. "Listen, um, thank you, but I don't need that right now."

"Whatever makes you happy," Samantha said with a smile. "Just let me know if there's anything you need from me. Tour of campus, a home cooked meal, anything. I really do want to make up for the misunderstandings before." She patted Jason on the shoulder as she stepped past him.

Jason stood sill for a moment, silent as he tried to wrestle with the emotions inside of him. Being able to accept or deny on his terms made him feel better about the situation. Or maybe that was just an excuse to appease the baser instincts that he had always repressed in objection to his parents' lifestyle.

Rolling his neck and shoulders a few times to try and relieve the tension that had built up in them, he resumed his path to the shower. The water was cold and his penis shrunk down to minimum size as the chilled droplets nibbled at his skin. It looked rather pathetic in this state, he observed, but he was no longer feeling those same urges. He had gotten his base instincts to calm down, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling.

His alarm must have gone off while he was in the bathroom, because he could hear music from the other side of the door. He hurried to get out, dry, and change before marching back to his room. As he put his key in the lock he pressed his ear to the door. He frowned as he recognized the song. "Goddamn REO Speedwagon!" he exclaimed through gritted teeth.

"One lonely night," Kevin Cronin's recorded voice sung through Jason's phone as he opened the door and walked to his nightstand. "That's all it'll take to completely break you."

***

Sarah walked through campus, backpack slung over her shoulder and phone in her hand. She had the map from the St. James website up, trying to use it to navigate to her next class. It was the first day, freshman year, and she was doing everything to not be the kid who was late to their first lecture and got laughed at.

She had made to her mid-morning class fine, her first of the day, and was able to find something to eat as the dining hall during her lunch break. Now it was the early afternoon and she was trying to finish out her school day strong with her last class.

Looking at the building, Sarah determined it was the right one by the sign that hung over the front door. She slipped her phone into her jean pocket and stepped inside. Thankfully her class was on the first floor, so she just had to turn a few times in the halls to find the right numbered room. There were a collection of students, her new classmates, Sarah assumed, gathered outside of the room. Including one that she hadn't expected but was very pleased to see.

"Oh, hey, Ma...Jason," she said as she approached the object of her devotion. She had almost slipped and addressed him in manner she had yet to earn.

"Hi," Master replied. "Almost forgot my name, huh?"

"Um, yeah," Sarah lied with a nervous laugh.

"That's alright, Liz," Master said. "We've only met once, after all."

"Liz?" Sarah questioned.

Master looked up, surprised. "Sarah? Crap, I got you two mixed up. Sorry."

"No, it's OK," Sarah replied.

"You two must get confused with each other all the time," Master commented.

"It happens," Sarah said. "But, um, hey, you're in the same class as me and Liz! Who would have guessed?"

"Yeah, I guess we're all going to have to suffer through gen-ed courses before we can really dig into our majors," Master said. "Where is your sister anyway?"

"She's got a few days of excused absences because of, you know, everything that happened," Sarah replied.

"Got it," Master said, nodding. "I hope I'll be able to tell you two apart next time."

Sarah took in Master's words, filing them away for later reference. In the meanwhile the class before theirs was being let out and Sarah followed her Master into the room. She made the extra effort to sit next to him in the back row, making sure that there would be room for Liz once she started coming to class.

But as they were sitting a thought occurred to her. For the past couple of days she and her sister had been pawing about in dark, looking to please a man who, though they loved him with every part of their being, they knew nothing of. Then there were the three other Love-Slaves who had brought then into the fold. She and Liz had been so set on fulfilling Master's request to call the police and set up Dr. Davis that the thought of exchanging numbers or contact info never occurred to them. But if they were going to learn about Master and come up with a plan, communication with their peers was going to be vital. With that in mind Sarah set a new plan in motion.

"Oh, hey," she began, turning to her Master with a smile on her face. "Could we exchange phone numbers? I'll give you Liz's too."

Master pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Sure, just text them to me." He pulled up his number in his contacts and showed it to Sarah. After inputting the digits into her phone she texted him both Liz's and her own info.

"Got it," Master confirmed, looking at the text on his phone before stowing it back in his pocket.

Sarah held her phone close to her face, editing Jason's contact information. She changed his name to 'Master' with a big heart emoji after and tagged the number as a favorite.

"Do you think you can share our numbers with your housemates?" Sarah asked, remembering her fellow Love-Slaves. "Liz and I got to talking with them the other day and I think we have a lot in common."

Master seemed taken aback by the question. "Um, sure," he said after some consideration. "I'll have them text their numbers to you."

"Great, thanks!" Sarah replied with a smile.

Any further conversation was stopped by the arrival of the professor. He was an older man who had all the looks of a no nonsense math teacher. Sarah settled down and prepared herself for all the normal first day introductory procedures.

***

Desiree wiped sweat from her forehead. Her first dance class of the semester had just ended and all of her classmates were heading out. She didn't join them, however.

The blonde sat in the corner next to her backpack, pulling her phone out of one of its side pockets. She woke it up and pulled up her running text thread with Samantha.

'You done with work today?' she typed out before hitting the send button.

It was only a short wait before Samantha replied. 'Done with work and workout. Felt good to get back in the gym after so long. Meet back up at the house?'