Deirdre's Downfall Ch. 13

"I brought your family here!" Jack was saying in a controlled fashion, "...at great personal risk! Set you up in a trade. Got you a license!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, Colonel," Sergei responded, standing at attention.

Did Sergei just call himColonel? I asked myself, disbelieving my ears.

"When I order it," Jack continued angrily, "you do exactly as I say, even to protect clients...like you did when this woman was raped!"

"Yes, Colonel," said the shorter man submissively, his posture beginning to soften.

"You're aprofessional!This is not professional!" Jack barked loudly, quickly stepping back and whipping the piece of round wood against Sergei's thick left forearm. Sergei flinched and grunted but said nothing I could hear.

"You will learn...never to take liberties with me, my friends or my clients!" he growled, stinging the man – backhanded – across his right shoulder...the one I'd bitten so hard.

"But Colonel!" whined Sergei, now holding his arms in front of himself to ward off more lashes, but passively accepting the blows, "She...she...vanted...." as Jack scourged him, criss-crossing his forearms with two more red welts.

"She can't help what she wants!" Jack shouted. "She's been driven crazy...by cruel, sick men!" and he lashed at Sergei again, who dropped to his knees in front of the man I loved...yet who was truly unknown to me...and of whom I was now deeply afraid.

"Pleeze to stop, Colonel," plead the cowering Sergei. "I vent crazy!" he admitted, trying to explain my seductive manipulation.

"Enough! No excuses!" Jack seethed, as the dowel whipped across Sergei's chest twice.

Sergei's voice broke when he said, "You know, Sir...I vould do anything for you...I hafkilled for you!"

Jack ignored him. "This job is over. I'll finish it. Fire the laborers...I know what they did! And wait for my call." He turned on his heel and stalked back into the house. Poor Sergei slipped cravenly out of the yard by the side gate.

Frightened to go downstairs, I looked in Claudia's room. She was dozing on her rumpled, stained bed, naked, on her back, with arms akimbo and one shapely leg thrown aside in the sunlight to reveal her swollen pussy, red from overwork and drooling semen. Her face, tits and hair were also laced with dried cum. Much as I needed an ally to lessen my shame...and my punishment, I realized that, like myself, she was probably not in any shape to converse.

I felt weak and was shaking from fear. I tiptoed down the stairs a ways and sat on them, guiltily holding my legs closed. As if it mattered. Jack had seen them spread around Sergei's middle, with the man's cock pumping in and out of me, and – I shuddered at the image of his seeing us in the mirrors – with his cum running obscenely from my cunt. As I sat on the step, unable to find words for Jack, Sergei's thick semen was still trickling from my crotch to soak into my dress lining.

Jack was sitting in an overstuffed chair, near the front door, with the heels of his hands over his eyes. I whined, very tentatively, "Jack?...my...darling?"

He dropped his hands, snapping his head up at me, and I saw something in his eyes that was terrifying. It was a frozenfire, if that's possible to imagine. There was an intensity in them, miles deep it seemed, that made me shiver. It was as if the incinerating heat of the sun had been stolen by an icy blue, irradiant moon and refocused to cauterize my soul. He said nothing, but was obviously agitated since his chest was rising and falling rapidly with each breath. He was at once incredibly magnetic yet fearsomely menacing, a mixture of extraordinary pride and profound disgust, a blend of blinding rage and emotional exhaustion. Finally he smiled, wanly, and his eyes gradually took on a more human look. "Hi, Dee Dee," he said, quietly.

I stood, walked down the rest of the way and approached him, kneeling beside his knees and hoping – as would a child – that he'd stroke me on the head in his way. "I can't find the proper words to express my deepest sorrow, shame, guilt...and my apologies," I whimpered, looking up at him.

He exhaled audibly, grabbed the piece of doweling off the floor, and rose to stand over me. I lowered my head, bracing myself – and silently begging, almost hungering – for his righteous punitive lashes to begin raining down on me.

He stepped away, broke the stick in four pieces, and tossed them in the fireplace. "I'll be back tomorrow to finish the wainscoting. If you see Billy, tell him I could use his help," he said evenly, and left, closing the door quietly.

*

Deirdre's saga reaches a surprise conclusion in the next chapter. Please send feedback...and vote!