Season of Darkness

by Rose2

   

Clouds darkened the afternoon sky as the long, black limousine idled in front of the boutique. Darla sat in the driver seat awaiting the arrival of Jane Thompson. She was dressed in her chauffeuse uniform with her cap sitting on top of her long blonde hair. The sharply-tailored uniform on her very female shaped figure was eye catching in the extreme. Jane Thompson emerged from the boutique, and was helped into the limousine by the stores doorman. Inside, she barely took notice of her newest toy boy/girl, who knelt on the Lincoln's floor,her face lowered. Once seated and her packages loaded, she curtly ordered Darla to take her home. Now finished shopping for her latest accessories, the Mistress of Seasons House was ready to return to her home for more fun and games.

Darla carefully maneuvered into the covered drive of the Victorian castle-like mansion near the shores of Narragansett Bay - a place that she had once called home. Inside the foyer, Jane stripped off the floor-length mink she'd worn for her shopping trip, revealing the black leather governess dress that her slave toy and Darla had so carefully laced about her that morning. At the base of the stairs waited Jane's partner-in-crime, Sheila Roberts. Sheila'sown gown of ebony latex held her surgically enhanced body in a firm grip, Beside the older woman, her slave, Caitlyn, wearing a French maid's uniform, knelt and offered a tray with a large brandy up to Jane.

"Jane dear, welcome home." Sheila purred in a wickedly sweet voice.

Jane accepted the offering and sipped, enjoying the smooth burn of the expensive, aged liqueur.. "Darla, take my new toys down to the training room,",she ordered, handing her 'daughter' the leash her slave was wearing, "I want some exercise. Oh, Shiela? Look at this."

Sheila took the flogger Jane held and read the tag out loud, " Safe, sane and con .. consensual?" Sheila and Jane burst into laughter as they started down the stairs towards the slave pens in the basement. Both the stairs and the slave pens were dark-lit by flickering red lights that cast eerie, almost frightening shadows against the black-painted chamber walls. There was an 'ambiance' about the place that successfully put even the newest slaves in what the two slave-mistresses considered to be the 'right frame of mind'.

Jane's experienced eyes swept the cages, taking in every nuance, every small change since her last visit. In Sheila and Jane's world, a knowledgeable observer could easily determine the progress of each slave - from those just arrived - still in dirty ragged clothes and still looking like boys caged at the far end of the dungeon - to the feminine slaves garbed in fine, if trampy silks and satins, housed closest to the base of the stairs. They were the sluts who were in all ways ready for their new owners to whom they would soon be sold.

At Jane's snapped command, all of the new slaves were herded from their cages. They did not pose any threat to the two women for they had not been fed in the three days since the men that drove the black van had grabbed them off the street. Ordered to strip away their filthy rags, they were all shoved into the communal shower area. A gurgle could be heard and then a spray of soapy water rained down and out from the ceiling and walls to clean the dirt and other waste from their bodies. One tried to escape but Sheila was quick and vicious with her whip, and he was back in line, but with a bleeding cut across his thigh dripping down his leg.

"You all failed miserably in life as males you should be grateful to us that we are willing to let you have a second chance - this time to live as females under our gentle tutelage," Jane sternly addressed the shivering mass of young boys. Jane took back the leash from Darla and caressed her slave's arm's "We will be kind to those who learn their lessons well but at the same time, very harsh indeed to those who resist us," she promised in silky tones.

Sheila pushed a lever and a hidden partition moved aside, revealing a figure standing upright, arms and legs akimbo, chained to the far wall. "Now if you choose to fight your lessons, we know how to deal with bad children, don't we, darling?".

Kendra slowly painfully raised her head, the make-up on her face would make the trashiest street walker look classy, her face a mask of misery and despair. Although as yet lacking in experience in such things, the staring boys knew without being told that the corset around her waist nearly cutting her in half.

Suddenly, the front doors imploded into the house in a maelstrom of light and sound. In rushed a charge led by Barbara Anne Braithwaite, followed by Marie, Sandy, Caro and Betty Franson. At the rearguard of this force of angry women were Edith White riding on a tank with Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth, Nancy Reagan, Mother Theresa and Mary Poppins. Following the tank was Judge Ruth flanked by Diana and Art.

In the confusion of that moment, Jane's slave toy jerked her leash from Jane's hand and looked up at the older woman, rage, fear and a myriad of other dark emotions coloring her youthful features. Jane Thompson looked down at the face of Adrienne Braithwaite.

As the commotion continued around them, Sheila suddenly appeared at Jane's side, and grabbed her hand. Determinedly, the rubber-clad woman tried to drag her partner towards another set of downward stairs that miraculously appeared at the end of the dungeon.

That was the moment that Jane noticed the bloody hole in Sheila's breast. "What is going on here?" Jane demanded, now fighting against the steady pull on her arm.

Sheila smiled - a dark, humorless and malevolent smile "I'm dead, Janey, remember? I'm taking you to Hell with me, like you deserve."

And the only sound amid the chaos was Sheila's evil, eerily demonic laugh

------

Art was jerked from a peaceful sleep as Jane thrashed violently in their bed. The nightmare that held Jane in its thrall looked like it was worse than those he had gone through since his return from Bosnia. Fear for his spouse clogged his throat as Art grabbed her by the arms and shook her to break the hold this nightmare had on her. "Jane! Janey! C'mon, wake up, - it's not real! Wake up! Come back to me!" Art urged calmly, but forcefully.

Jane's eyes flew open, still fighting the demon who was pulling her toward the pit, when she realized that it was Art and not Sheila who held her. Relief burned through her as she threw her arms around her lover, while Art simply held on all the while murmuring words of love and reassurance. Finally, Jane calmed down, and then she pushed her way free.

Jane said nothing as she ran to the bathroom. Following, Art was frustrated at finding the door locked. As Art was about to pound on the door to find out what was bothering his wife, the door opened. Jane emerged looking pale and shaken.

"What happened in that nightmare? I've never seen you so frightened." asked Art while pouring a small brandy for Jane.

It took every scrap of courage and discipline she'd developed in all her years of working with troubled children, but Jane accepted the brandy and began to describe the terror of the night she had experienced.

Art said nothing during his wife's recital, letting her tell the story as she would, even though her tears cut him to his soul. When he was sure she'd finished, he took her hand and kissed it. "Yes I can see, being dragged to Hell can be frightening"

"Oh it was not that" Jane interrupted, batting away the fresh spate of tears with her free hand.. "It was what I had done - what I had become - that scared me so badly. I had joined with Sheila, had become LIKE Sheila," Jane said the energy visibly draining from her.

"I guess that Ruth's description of Sheila's activities and then her murder effected you more than we thought."

Jane rose and put on her robe "I need to get some fresh air," she stated as she left the bedroom.

Art knew his woman well enough to let her go alone. She'd be safe enough on her own property, and a short passage of solitude would help her begin to put things back in perspective.

Quietly exiting the house, Jane at first wandered aimlessly about the moon-shadowed grounds. After a time, she found herself at the entrance to the stables. She peeked inside but saw that Teddie and Garters were soundly sleeping. "You two have better sense than I do," she murmured lovingly.

She left as quietly as she'd entered, and resumed her walk, this time with a definite destination in mind. In short order, she was surrounded by the familiar perfume of her beloved rose garden. Tired physically, mentally and spiritually, Jane seated herself on a bench to collect her thoughts.

"I thought I would find you here," Jane started at the sound of Diane's voice. "As I recall you telling me, this is where you had that long talk with Old Tom after your big show down with Sheila for Kenneth's soul," said Diane taking a seat on a bench next to Jane.

"Showdown?" Jane asked, a touch of humor coming back into her voice. "You sound like Darryl, although he actually said I acted like Gary Cooper"

"ACTUALLY," Diana teased, "Darryl said you were like John Wayne, and I heard the recordings he made of your little speech to that malicious bitch. I agree with Darryl - you sounded just like the Duke in his movie McClintock". Jane had another small laugh at the memory. "Now that is a sound I love to hear from you, love-of-my-life. Now why don't you tell tell Auntie Di what is keeping you from our bed?"

For several long moments, Jane was silent. Then, she took a shaky breath, and squeezed hard on the hand that somehow had taken hers. "I am afraid," she rasped out on a harsh whisper, "Afraid I could become like Sheila. What if Anne Braithwaite is right about me?". Jane asked, and then began to shiver again. "Just yesterday, I complained to Marie that MY Kendra was a blonde, not a brunette when I should be happy just to have Kenneth open back up to that side of himself again, And our boy, Jesse is upstairs right now sleeping in a silk nightgown!"

Diana gave a short, surprisingly girlish giggle, and laid her head momentarily on Jane's shouldler. "Would you feel more comfortable if it was flannel?"

"Don't you dare joke!" she snarled, and then her eyes went wide as if she were seeing the figure beside her for the first time. "And why did you come here as Diana?

"So you could see that you do not force any of us to dress this way," was the gentle reply. "Darryl, Michael, Jesse and even Kenneth do this by choice - because you taught them the good that comes of it for both them and for your other boys. You could not become like Sheila because that woman had no conscience, no soul. You do! Moreover, you understand and FEAR the darkness we all have inside us - you KNOW it's there. For that reason alone, you will never give into it. Not only that, but you surround yourself with those you trust to stop you if you ever did so much as think about crossing that line.

Jane found herself wrapped in a warm and loving hug. "Now let's leave this chilled night air and snuggle in our warm bed. Silk is great for making a statement, but it's chilly out tonight."

He. . .or rather SHE was right, Jane mused. How could she ever think her family would let her face the darkness alone? "My dear, you have the most wonderful ideas," Jane commented as they rose together, and started back to the house.

Once snuggled together in bed, sleep came quickly as they rested, safe, protected and loved in each others arms.

 

A much improved story with the help of Tigger.

  

  

  

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