Jon Reskind - The unholy Master

Again, Janet shook her head. "I-I don't understand… what did happen…?"

The Madame looked to her husband as if she were reluctant to speak and the Doctor said, "You were quite ill, ma chere… mentally disturbed… We found you with our dog, Vailante…"

He paused and Janet pressed. "Yes, yes, go on…"

Leduc shrugged. "You were having intercourse with him."

Janet's mouth fell open in abject horror… but it was partially fabricated, for she knew now that they were lying to her, that she had not dreamed those vile things that had taken place. They had actually occurred… lewd, vile, despicable acts of depravity that this man had somehow seduced her into… and suddenly, in near-panic, she realized that she must deceive them into believing that she was completely at their mercy, or else God alone knew what next would happen to her. She broke into loud sobs and covered her face, but through her fingers she saw the doctor offer a confident little smile to his wife.

"There, there now, it is not all that bad, ma chere," Leduc consoled her, gently removing her hands from her face. "Everything is going to be all right." He smiled his warm smile down at her and Janet let her tears slowly subside. "Now, after we've had our medication I am going to have you moved to a much nicer room and you will be given some gowns more befitting your station. Would you like that?"

"Y-Yes," Janet replied softly, resolved now that to play the meek innocent was her only hope.

Her mind raced while Leduc prepared her injection and handed her the small glass of sweet, amber-colored liquid to drink. She did not want to consume the concoction, but could think of no possible means of avoiding it without giving herself away. The needle, she felt she must have, or fall into those horrible withdrawal agonies once more. She was not that certain that she understood what they meant by post-hypnotic suggestion, and she couldn't afford to gamble on any more unnecessary pain. But, was she really addicted? And what had he meant when he referred to her as a commodity? What… what… what? Oh, dear God, what are they trying to do to me? Why? And where is my Paul…?

"Now, cheri, I will take you to your new room," Madame Leduc said, interrupting Janet's thoughts as she took a white robe from the foot of the bed and held it up for her to slip into.

Slowly, Janet started to toss the covers back, then hesitated, remembering the short gown she wore was only hip-length, and the brown brute they had called Erabas was staring at her with wide, gleaming, hungry dark-eyes. Leduc read her hesitation and smiled.

"You mustn't worry about, or fear Erabas, ma cheri," he said. "He is quite harmless, and he will be looking after you."

Janet continued from the bed, quickly slipping into the robe.

Looking after me? For what? Guarding me is what he means… so that I won't try to escape. A sanitarium, he said. Good God, what kind of sanitarium would have such monsters about? Oh, Paul, Paul… please come and help me? Please… Please!

Before the Leducs left her, Janet had been moved to a luxurious room on an upper floor of the sanitarium, if indeed, she thought, it was such a place. She had been allowed to bathe and was given several exquisite, sheer negligees… certainly not the type of garment one would expect to find in a medical institution. The doctor had left her with a promise that he would be calling upon her at least daily, and perhaps more often. She was to do nothing but relax completely, get as much sleep as possible, and merely ring the little buzzer beside her bed if there was anything she wanted or needed.

Left alone, the first thing she did was to fall into a fit of despondent weeping. Although she had no conception of what fate actually lay in store for her, there was no doubt in her mind but what Leduc had some horribly evil plans. He had called her a commodity… and there could only be one thing about her that was salable… her body. She shuddered at the thought, even as the familiar irritable craving began to tingle in her belly and pelvic regions. Dear God… if only she knew how to reach Paul. She had to do something. She couldn't just lay there and wait for the worst to happen to her. She had to fight back some way… but how?

They had taken all of the necessary precautions: removed her clothing, kept her drugged and watched over by that brute Moroccan, Erabas… Erabas…? She wondered. It was an obvious leer he had given her, a hungry and undeniable lustful expression. Perhaps… perhaps, she could bargain with him… if he would help her, she would let him… Oh God, she couldn't, she couldn't! But what, then? Where could she turn? There was no one! Her Paul was gone somewhere she didn't know…

Again, she wept, praying as the-tears streamed down her cheeks. Please, God… please help me…? And then, she dried her eyes, set her jaw… and rang the buzzer.

Almost instantly, the giant Moroccan entered the room with the lightness of a cat. The mere sight of his massive presence caused Janet to cringe.

"Yes, Madame," he said in deep accented English. He stood at the foot of the bed and stared at her with those burning, ravenous eyes, his heavy muscular arms folded across his thick chest.

Janet forced herself to present a little smile. She hoped her lips weren't quivering the way her stomach was. She looked at him for a long moment, then said, "Are you my guard, Erabas?"

"I am Madame's servant," he replied curtly.

"Oh… I see," said Janet, softly. "Then… you are to do whatever I ask of you?"

"Yes, Madame… if possible."

"If possible?"

"Yes, Madame… all things are not possible."

Janet widened her eyes. "Such as…?"

"I-I beg the Madame not to taunt me," Erabas said, his flashing eyes raking the length of her body that only a single silken sheet covered, clinging to its lush, full contours provocatively.

"I-I'm sorry, Erabas," Janet apologized. "I didn't mean to taunt you. It's just that… I need help… I do, Erabas," she said, suddenly sitting up in the bed, the sheet falling away to reveal her firm, pointed breasts behind the gossamery material of the negligee. She was not going to try any tricks. She was too frightened and desperate for that. The truth was the only way… "I need someone to help me get out of here. I'm being held against my will… actually kidnapped…"

"Madame is not feeling well again," the huge man replied, his tongue-tip slipping out to wet his lips. "I suggest you get some rest as the Doctor ordered…"

"But it's true, Erabas! You must believe me. They are kidnapping me!" Janet insisted frantically. "I don't know what they plan to do with me, but I'm sure it's something horrible…" she got to her knees and crawled to the foot of the bed to look up at him pleadingly. "Please, Erabas, you've got to help me. You're so big… and strong… I'll… I'll pay you well… anything you ask… anything… Please, please…?"

The Moroccan's licorice eyes were devouring every sensuous detail of Janet's luscious body, lucidly clear to him beneath the diaphanous, wispy gown, from her pink rising nipples down to the velvety fleece nestled mysteriously below her white creamy belly. He swallowed heavily as his hand slowly came away from his chest and reached out to touch her heavy protruding breast.

Janet gasped as the giant hand completely and gently cupped the melon-like globe of resilient flesh, dwarfing its size and causing an insane shiver of wild sensation to ripple down through her belly and loins.

Oh no! She hadn't wanted this. My God! What's the matter with me? Now, she tried to retreat from him, but his other hand came forward to cover her other breast and he held her that way, squeezing only enough to hold her from moving backwards.

"Noooo, you mustn't… please…" Janet moaned as the seething agitation, driven on by the drug she had been administered, continued to mount in the center of her body. Dear God! This brute merely touches me and suddenly I'm afire all over! I can't stand the sight of him… and yet his hands feel so good…!