Of Crystals and Watches Ch. 07

Liz stayed in her seat as everyone else stood, diligently going over her notes and putting the final touches on them. She had missed multiple days of classes, so she had some catching up to do. She felt the presence of someone leaning over her as she wrote, accompanied by the soft jingle of a metal tag.

"Are you ready to go see Master?" Sarah whispered into her sister's ear, running a pair of fingers along Liz's choker.

The younger twin sat up straighter and took a sharp breath in through her nose. "Why do you keep doing that?" she asked as she put her pencil down.

"It's fun," Sarah answered. "Plus, I love using it to remind you who you belong to."

"You belong to him too, so what's your point?" Liz questioned.

Sarah shrugged. "I dunno. It's just fun."

"Whatever," Liz said as she closed up her notebook and slid it into her backpack. "Let's just get to our last class, Master's probably already waiting." She slung the backpack over her shoulder and stood from her desk.

"Sure thing," Sarah began before an alert went off on her phone. "Hold on," she said, pulling the device out of her pocket and checking it. She spent a scant few seconds reading whatever was on the screen before putting it away.

"What was it?" Liz asked.

"Just a text from Mom," Sarah answered.

"What did she want?" Liz followed up.

"Nothing much," Sarah replied. "Now let's get going before someone takes our seats next to Master." She stepped out past Liz, who stayed back and watched her sister go. She couldn't shake the feeling that her twin wasn't telling everything.

***

Victor stood in the parking lot outside the airport at Billings, Montana, waiting. In his younger years he would have been working his way through a pack of cigarettes until his contact arrived. Not because he had been that interested in smoking, in fact he had never liked it. In truth, he had only done it because that was how he thought a hitman should act, and that it would send the right message to his contacts.

It wasn't until he was a few years into the job that he realized that not only was smoking unhealthy and expensive, it did nothing to enhance his criminal reputation that a few jobs well done couldn't do better. So now he just leaned against his motorcycle, waiting for his contact to come out of the airport.

Most of the people coming out of the baggage claim went by unnoticed by Victor. They were just mundane people going about their business, they weren't a part of his world. Even as his hand slipped into his jacket pocket and brushed against his crystal, none of the women jumped out to him. Except one.

She had just come out of baggage claim. A black suit with a pencil skirt and matching stockings and heels, all on top of a busty, curvy blonde. He took a moment to admire her as she walked forward with an obvious sense of purpose, sunglasses on her face and a black duffel pack slung over her shoulder. It took him a second to realize that she was walking directly towards him.

"Victor," she addressed him as she took the final steps. It wasn't a question. This woman knew full well who he was.

"You're my contact?" he asked.

"Yes," the woman answered. "The boss sent me personally, because there's nobody he trusts more."

Victor stared at the blonde, wondering why she was here. All he had to do was whip out his crystal and show it to her, then she would be his. There was no way that any client of his would ever leave themselves so blatantly exposed to betrayal.

"Before you ask anything," the woman spoke up. "Yes, I am fully aware of your crystal and what it is capable of, more so than you are, I assure you. I am fully protected against your little stone."

Victor took another look at the woman's sunglasses. They were one of those pairs that wrapped all the way around the eyes, leaving no place that light could slip through unfiltered. He guessed that this was something that his client had developed to protect their people from being controlled. He didn't know much about science or physics, but he guessed that it somehow filtered the light from the crystal and prevented the wearer from being entranced.

A clever piece of engineering if that was that was the case. Still, Victor supposed that he could just take off the sunglasses by force if he had too. Though with this client he wouldn't be surprised if they some other defense mechanism at play as well. Regardless, this was all academic.

"An unnecessary precaution," Victor replied. "I make it a policy to never betray a client for short term gain."

"I hope that's the case," the woman said, fixing Victor with he was sure was a harsh, piercing stare through those obscuring sunglasses.

"May I ask your name?" Victor asked.

"Elise," she answered.

"Then shall we get going?" Victor followed up, gesturing to his motorcycle. "I've got a motel room."

Elise glanced at the two wheeled vehicle, her stoic face and hidden eyes offering no emotional response. "I'm going to rent a car and then go to the hotel I've booked," she finally said. "You'll follow me."

"O...K,' Victor replied. He wasn't used to clients being this involved in his jobs, they were for the most part content to sit back and wait for results. There was something festering just under the surface, and Victor got the distinct impression that he'd want to get out of Montana and off radar as soon as his business was done.

***

Mavis was walking into the kitchen carrying a bag with a chicken salad to-go order when an alert went off on her phone.

"Oh, damnable thing," Mavis swore, annoyed that the technology was disrupting the start of her dinner. Putting the to go bag on the table, she fished her phone out of her purse and woke it up. There was a single text from Sarah.

'Hey, just finished having dinner at the dinning hall with Master,' she wrote. 'He ran into some girl from one of his other classes and they mentioned something about going to your place. Just letting you know."

'Thanks for letting me know,' Mavis typed out slowly, her unpracticed fingers making constant mistakes that had to be corrected. Once the message was sent she shoved her phone back in her purse, silently cursing the technology.

But once her annoyance subsided she set herself to preparing for the arrival of her Master and her prey. After some thought she pulled her to-go salad out of its bag and relocated herself to the living room.

Food in hand, she scanned the room, judging her best course of action. Quickly she decided to sit herself not on the couch, but in one of the other chairs. Placing her food on the coffee table, she turned the chair so that it was facing the front door, thinking that she could casually greet the new arrivals when they come in.

After a few second's thought she repositioned the chair again, turning it so that she could see the front door from it, but would not be facing it directly. After all, if they walked in and it looked like she was just sitting there waiting for them, they might find it creepy. This way she could be a friendly face greeting Mary and Master when they arrived while making it look like a casual coincidence.

With her plan laid out Mavis sat down and began eating. With a learned ease she went through her meal like it was just normal for her, even though she usually ate in the kitchen. She was about halfway through when the front door opened.

"Oh, man, I can't believe you're an Alter Bridge fan!" she heard her Master exclaim before he entered her vision.

"Yeah!" Mary replied as both she and Master came into Mavis' view. "Some people say that they're just Creed 2.0, but I really like them!"

The pair were smiling at each other, giggling gleefully at the realization of a shared interest when Master looked up to see Mavis.

"Oh, hey," he said. "Having dinner?"

"Just about to finish," Mavis answered. "Decided to take me up on my offer?" she asked of Mary.

"Yeah," the Utah girl answered. "I really do appreciate the chance the make a couple of friends out here."

"Yeah, we get a few Mormons out this way," Mavis commented. "The handful boys we get tend to get on fine on their own, but the girls usually need a little more help adapting to college life."

"Oh, you think so?" Mary asked, sitting down on the couch.

Mavis smiled, happy to see that she had managed to get the young freshman engaged in conversation. "Oh, absolutely. If you don't mind me saying, I find that when a Mormon girl finds her way out here, it's usually because she's trying to get away from her religious parents." That was at least in part a shot in the dark, Mavis hadn't gotten to know that many Mormon students over the years. But she had a hunch that this was going to start an interesting conversation.

A look crossed Mary's face, the look of someone who had something deep within them, something they wanted to let out, but were afraid of the social consequences of doing so.

Master was standing off to the side, watching the two women. "OK, I think that's enough assuming about her," he warned.

"No, it's OK," Mary said. "She's not wrong, I did come to Montana get away from my parents and our church."

"Not happy with the polygamist lifestyle?" Mavis asked, chuckling.

"You do realize that most Mormons don't believe in polygamy anymore, right?" Master asked.

"I know, Jason," Mavis replied. "I was just making a joke."

"Well, um, actually," Mary began, and Mavis' attention turned to the young girl. She could see now that the dam had been broken, and Mary wanted to let out everything that she had been holding within her.

"Actually," Mary started again. "There are some small sects that still practice polygamy. And my parents are a part of one of those."

"Oh, OK," Mavis said. She hadn't been expecting that. "How many...um...partners are involved with your parents."

Mary took a deep breath, preparing herself to let it all out. "My mom is the third of my dad's nine wives. It's like clockwork, he marries them before they turn 26, has two kids before they turn 30, then leaves the child rearing to them while he goes and gets a younger model."

"Oh, wow," Jason replied, sitting down on the couch next to Mary. Mavis could see now that he could identify with her to some degree, given his parents' own free swinging ways.

"I'm sure that wasn't the easiest thing to deal with," he said, clear concern and care in his voice.

"Yeah," Mary confirmed. "I always hated how Mom and the other wives would compete for Dad's attention, to make sure that their kids got the best treatment. I hated how my dad would always focus on the new wife and the new kids, while the older ones were yesterday's news. It was one of the reasons that I had to leave."

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Mavis said, regretting her probing. "I didn't mean to bring up something like this. I just wanted to know more about you."

"It's OK," Mary responded. "I think...I think that I like that someone out here knows what I come from."

Mavis nodded slowly, careful to not brush the moment away too soon. "You said that there was another reason that you left Utah. You mind if I ask what that was?"

"Um," Mary started, clearly hesitant to go deeper.

"You don't have to tell us if you don't want to," Master offered.

Mary took a deep breath to steady herself. "No, it's OK. I've actually told this to a few people, I just don't want my parents to find out." She paused again for the sake of her nerves. "You see, I...like women. Romantically."

"Oh," Mavis said, putting the pieces together quickly. "And that's a big no-no in your parents' church."

Mary nodded in response.

"Well, that," Master started, still trying to find the words. "Um. I'm sorry you have to hide that part of yourself from your family."

Mary nodded. "Thanks. It feels good to get that off my chest."

Mavis glanced at her Master, watching his body language. He was clearly interested in the girl, that much was clear to her. Any time someone is interested in someone else who turns out to have an incompatible orientation, it can throw them for a loop. Particularly for someone as young as him.

"Well, thanks for trusting us," Mavis said, returning to the larger conversation. "But let's not keep your head stuck at home! You're in a new place, and while Montfort may not be big, I can talk you through some of what we do have."

Mary nodded, smiling. "That sounds great!"

So the conversation continued, Mavis giving a rundown of some of her favorite spots on and around campus. Mary was quiet through most of it, piping up to ask a short question every so often. But in comparison to Master she was having mini-monologues. He was sitting off to the side, trying to not look shell shocked while managing single word responses to the scant few comments that were directed his way.

Mavis couldn't help but wander how he was going to respond to all this.

***

Jason laid on his bed staring up the ceiling. He couldn't explain it, but he was in another funk. Well, he could explain it, or at least he could start to. He had been interested in Mary, he couldn't deny that. She was cute and into music, and they had started clicking pretty well those first few times they met. Then he learned that she was gay.

Not that there was anything wrong with that, as Jerry Seinfeld would say, but it did dampen things for Jason in a way he couldn't quite shake. He still wanted to be friends with her, but there was another level beyond that that he could never have.

While this was rolling around in his head his eyes fell from the ceiling to his nightstand. He could still get at least some of what he wanted, and the means of getting it was within arm's reach. With a groan he turned away from the crystal in its drawer. But then he paused, remembering his encounter with Samantha a few mornings prior. Did her offer still stand?

With shallow, unsteady breaths, he got out his bed and walked out of the room. He banked a left turn towards the door to Samantha's room, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves as he arrived at it. With slow, stiff movements, he rose his fist to the door and knocked on it.

A moment's silence was broken by the soft clicks of a door knob turning. Jason managed wrangle his breathing, with long, slow draws and deep releases that help to relieve the tension in his chest before the door opened.

"Oh, hey Jason," Samantha said upon seeing her housemate. "Need something?"

"Um, yeah," Jason answered. "A few days ago you offered your help if I needed it for anything. Is that still standing?"

"Yeah, of course," Samantha replied. "What do you need?"

Jason hesitated, suddenly unsure if had understood his housemate correctly. Then again, why would he assume otherwise given what had happened the first time they met?

"Would you give me a blowjob?" he asked as if it were the most normal thing in the world, despite himself.

"Oh," Samantha responded. "Oh, yeah, of course. If that's what you want." She half turned back into her room, gesturing to her bed. "Just, um, take a seat."

Jason did as he was asked, taking the few steps across the room before turning on his heels and plopping down on the bed. He only noticed the growing size and hardness of his member now that this moment was upon him.

Samantha hesitated briefly, a nervous energy about her as she closed the door. Jason could not help but think of a struggling actress about to audition for the role that could make her career. It was a far cry from the woman who had taken his virginity without so much as foreplay that first night in Montfort.

The redhead made to kneel at Jason's feet, but paused halfway down. She glanced up at the bed before snatching one of her pillows and laying it on the floor. She rested her knees on it as she reached for the waistband of Jason's basketball shorts.

Down the shorts went, sliding down Jason's thighs along with his underwear. His erect cock stood at attention once it was free, its tip eye to eye with Samantha. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she leaned in and got to work.

It wasn't the forceful, sloppy blowjob that Desiree had given him that first night, which Jason could only assume was hypnotically induced at this point. Desiree had almost demanded his pleasure, as if she knew better than him what he liked.

Samantha had been no different when she had taken his virginity later that night, but now she had done a one-eighty. Instead of just trying to make him climax as soon as possible, she was taking it slow. Alternating between long licks of the sides of the shaft, licking of the head, and taking the whole thing between her lips and bobbing up and down on it, Samantha's pace adjusted naturally between these varying actions. The pleasurable sensations they created built slowly, rather than crashing towards an inevitable conclusion.

It took about 45 seconds for Jason to realize what was perhaps the most important difference. Samantha was maintaining eye contact with him as much as humanly possible. She was watching him, his face, his reactions. Her changes in approach followed their pattern, she was following his lead, even when he hadn't said anything.

It was this realization, that he was in control without having to trying anything, that got him going. His eyes closed as he threw his head back, letting out a long moan. She took this a sign that the bobbing she was doing was the way to go and picked up her pace, taking his cock down her throat with each pass.

"Oh God, yes," Jason said without meaning to, and Samantha continued on her path, pushing Jason to climax.

"Oh, God," Jason said again, opening his eyes and looking down at the redhead on his cock. "I want to cum on your face," he added as inspiration struck him.

Without skipping a beat Samantha released the cock from her lips and began jerking it to completion, pointing it directly at her forehead. Jason shuddered as he came, several days of pent up sexual frustrating pouring out onto the redhead in thick bursts. He watched as his cum slowly rolled down the bridge of Samantha's nose and onto her cheeks before she leaned her head back, keeping the white stuff on her face.

"That's...so hot," Jason said without thinking.

Samantha smiled and giggled at the comment, the soft motions causing the pools of cum to leak ever so slightly down her cheeks.

But then the moment passed. The afterglow of orgasm, the release of tension and the relief it left behind, they all faded into background. In their place came...shame? That wasn't quite right. Disgust? No, too strong. There was just a growing feeling of disquiet in the back of Jason's mind.

It was simply that all the things that Jason had just found so enticing and engrossing less than a moment before had become nothing. He felt empty, and he wasn't sure what to do in response to that.

Samantha was sitting there on her knees, grinning like a madwoman with her face covered in cum. A part of Jason, the part that he had drilled into denying anything sexual in rejection of his parents' free swinging lifestyle, wanted to scoff at the scene and walk off. But the part of him that recognized that she had, on this occasion at least, simply done what he had asked of her, fought against that. It wouldn't be right to treat her like that. That would make him something worse than his parents.

So Jason stood, pulling his pants back up in their proper position as he did.

"Thanks," he managed to force out. "That was...great." He then stepped around the redhead, making a beeline for the door.

"Glad I could help," Samantha called out as he left the room.

***

Desiree laid on her bed, half asleep as her mind conjured dreams of her Master. He was just so wonderful, not that she needed to list reasons. It was just a simple truth that she adored him, enough so that she would be his property, his ever faithful servant. If only he could see that and accept it.