Reformation Ch. 04

Chapter Four

The Dragon and The Mouse

Owen barely noticed the scenery passing by as he sat in the plush leather seat of the Mercedes that was speeding down the road to some unknown destination. He didn't notice much of anything that sunny Saturday. Owen's focus was consumed with his own thoughts on how he had ended up getting into the car of a stranger. Heather might have been a stranger to Owen but she not a stranger to his father and seemed to know much about his family. How much did she know and why was she seemingly undisturbed by what she knew? The most aggravating was what did she want with him? What was it that they needed to talk about that was so urgent? Why did Owen owe her any type of explanation on how he and his family chose to live their lives?

Owen felt his guilt twinge when he thought of how he chose to live his life. Owen was not stupid and guessed that Heather wanted to talk about Richard, and that was the last thing he wanted to talk about. Ironically, it was the major issue in his life and even he had to admit that he needed some perspective with regards to how things ended with his father. Had he really driven his father to do what he did? Was Owen really the monster his father made him out to be? Was he really so sick and twisted that he would corrupt and consume everyone around him? Owen didn't have the answer to these questions and a small part of him, hoped that Heather did.

Owen was so wrapped up in his own dark thoughts that he didn't notice the fact that they had turned into a back alley in an industrial section of town. Heather's swift hand movement to press the button on a remote that was clipped to the visor above her head, pulled Owen out of his thoughts. A large overhead door of a nearby warehouse started to open and when it was open enough Heather drove into the warehouse. They entered what looked to be a sectioned off portion of the building that was used for an indoor parking garage. Pulling into a parking spot closest to a large metal door, Heather turned off the engine and got out of the car.

Owen stared in disbelief as he watched Heather walk towards the metal door. Not one word had been spoken between the two of them since he had entered the car. It irked him that she had just left the car and expected him to follow her without so much as saying a single word to him. As Owen got out of the car he paused to breathe a deep breath and prepare him for the unknown destiny that lay beyond that metal door.

It was at that moment that the thought hit Owen that he had been given the time to calm down. By not talking to him during the car ride, Heather had given him the space he needed to relax, just a little bit. Owen started to see the seemingly cold woman in a different light, perhaps she was more than the scratchy exterior let on. Owen hoped that she had some wisdom to shed on his predicament, rather than just the grilling he expected.

Owen walked though the metal doorway and found himself in a small entryway. This room looked to be much cleaner and newer than the building itself and was only about ten feet by ten feet. A camera was mounted above a solid-looking door at the opposite end of the room. There was a small card-reader device mounted on the wall right next to the doorknob. Heather did not stop walking, nor did she produce a card to swipe through the card reader, she just walked up to the door. The door buzzed when she neared it and she opened up the door and walked through it. Owen had to run to catch the closing door, not sure if it would be opened up for him should he let it close.

A large, black man stood just inside the door wearing tight black leather pants, black shoes and what looked to be a spiked leather dog collar. Owen tried not to stare at the odd sight of the bare-chested man who stood there calmly and took both Heather and his coats, hanging them up nearby. While he was massive in dimensions, he was gentle and respectful in demeanour bowing to Heather as she walked by.

Owen was so taken in by the black man that he failed to notice that they were in a hallway that led down a fair distance. Along the wall to the right were two doors that were clearly labelled as men's and women's change rooms as well as a few other doors that were not marked. There was a door at the end of the hall which also had a camera mounted above it and a card-reader mounted beside the door. Heather was swiftly walking towards this door, still saying nothing to Owen. Once again, Heather did not stop walking or produce any credentials at all, she simply approached the door and it buzzed, allowing her to open it. By this time Owen was not far behind and easily caught the door before it closed. Owen stepped through the doorway immediately after Heather and was in for a great shock at the sight that greeted him.

The room was a stark difference to the white, plain hallway and anti-room that he had just walked through. The rich wood panelling of the fireside study seemed out of place in the warehouse that it was within. The floor was made of hardwood and was rich in colour and was obviously not mere laminate. An elegant leather couch and two wingback leather chairs were situated in a semi-circle centred on the wood fireplace in one wall. A large ornamental rug covered the area between both wingback chairs and the couch. Beautiful wood furniture and bookshelves filled with books filled out the room which looked like it belonged in an English manor rather than an American warehouse. There were three doors, one in each of the walls to the left and right of the wall with the fireplace, and the other immediately to the right of the fireplace. Owen and Heather had come through the door in the wall to the left of the fireplace.

Heather sat in one of the wingback chairs and pointed to the other wingback chair situated across from her, while looking at Owen confidently. Owen nodded and walked over to the vacant chair and sat down in it and felt the warmth of the fire that crackled in the fireplace beside him.

"As you know, I knew your father, for ten years, he was a Slave of mine and paid me well for the privilege," Heather said calmly, as if she were talking about the weather.

"I see," Owen said fidgeting in his seat a little bit. "He paid you to serve you?" he added with a look of morbid curiosity.

"Didn't he tell you? I thought you knew," Heather asked in a tone of voice that was flavoured with just a hint of curiosity, with a raised eyebrow on an otherwise expressionless face.

"He only told us that he was involved with you . . . as your Slave . . . and that he loved you very much," Owen said in a stammering and nervous manner, uncomfortable talking about personal family business to a stranger.

"You seem tense. Would you like a drink? Where are my manners, I haven't made you feel properly welcomed into my home," Heather said in a somewhat understanding and conciliatory manner before she pressed a button on a small intercom on a table beside her chair. "Send in some Sluts," Heather said dismissively into the small box, releasing the button after she finished speaking.

The door in the wall to the right of the wall with the fireplace opened up not a minute later and in walked six women. While each woman was unique in her own way, being of different races and body shapes, they all were dressed (or undressed rather) the same. Each woman wore fur-lined, leather cuffs on each ankle and wrist. Around her neck, each woman wore a thick, fur-lined leather collar in the style of a dog-collar, across the front of the collar in large, bright lettering was the word "SLUT" attached to the collar and each cuff was a single silver "D" ring. Apart from that, each woman was completely nude, and seemingly not bothered by that fact one bit. All of the women had their hair tied back in some manner, either in a pony tail or braid or up in a bun. They lined up in front of the couch and stood there with their feet shoulder width apart, their hands behind their backs grasping their opposite elbows, their heads up high and looking straight ahead. They didn't move or speak at all; it was as if they were soldiers lined up for inspection.

"Pick one to welcome you," Heather said after giving the women a passing glance.

"What?" Owen said in a nervous tone.

"I don't have all day, just pick one you like and she will relieve your stress," Heather said in a slightly exasperated tone of voice of voice.

"I see," Owen said as he looked the women over again and tried to see which one he found the prettiest.

At one end there was a tall and slender Arab woman who looked to be in her late twenties, her hips were wide and clearly her best feature. The shape of her body was sleek, with subtle variations in her profile, her breasts included being that they were a B cup. Her dark skin and large eyes gave her an exotic mystique that was quite alluring.

Beside her was a small Japanese woman who could best be described as young and petite, her whole body was small yet slender. She had the curves of a woman but on a smaller and more subdued scale, her breasts were the smallest, barely an A cup.

Beside her was a woman who was quite different than her in body shape, she was a black woman with considerably more generous proportions to her figure. She had the hourglass figure of a woman but in a larger scale with more rounder and more flowing curves. Her breasts were clearly the largest of the group, yet her body was the largest as well.

On the other side of her was a slightly taller than average brunette haired woman with a muscular build and pert, pointy B cup breasts. Her body was a marvel of body-sculpting; she was toned, trim and had a tight, hard-body. She looked to be in her forties and looked to have been tanned most of her life.

Next was a native woman in her early twenties, who seemed to possess the body closest to a model's body of the group. Her tall body was nicely proportioned from her arms to her legs and even her C cup breasts seemed to be the right size and shape, nothing seemed too large or too small. Her black hair was in a single braid and fell down to her waist. If she wasn't a model, she could have been.

The last woman was a golden-blonde haired woman, in her early thirties who stood about average in height. Her hair was done up in two braids going out of the back of her head and still fell past her shoulder-blades. Her face was an oval shape and her thin eyebrows were whips over her captivating light-blue eyes. Her button nose pointed to her large mouth with puffy lips. Her body-shape was not skinny yet not plump, she was a woman who had a few extra pounds on a shapely frame. Her body, while being ever so slightly larger than desired, was well proportioned, and had the flowing curves of a woman; those curves were simply padded a little bit. The added bonus to the padded curves was that this woman had a delightfully round D cup breasts.

This last woman had an odd addition to her "attire," in the form of a large gold cross which hung from a gold chain around her neck. While that in itself would make her memorable as you do not expect to see religious symbols displayed so prominently on a woman wearing a "Slut Collar." There was something else about her that rang familiar, it was as if he was looking at someone he knew, but couldn't quite place her. Perhaps it was because she was not in the environment he knew her from or simply that she reminded him of someone he knew. Whatever the reason, Owen was left with a feeling that he knew her from somewhere.

"What's with the cross?" Owen asked as he tore his eyes away from the cross dangling in cleavage, and glanced back at Heather.

"Don't worry about it, she's just a Slut. Pick one and let's get on with this." Heather huffed dismissively.

"A cross is a strange thing to see on a S. . . Slut, don't you agree? I was just curious," Owen added, not liking the term Heather used to describe these women, yet trying to act casual, nonetheless.

"She's a 'mousy little church girl' who is here to explore her 'bad girl' side in hopes to be rid of it," Heather scoffed as she tossed the woman in question a dirty look, "Deluded woman," she added with a shake of her head. "You can't deny who and what you are! The sooner you accept that, the easier a time you will have here, Slut!" Heather spat with fire at the timid, blonde haired woman wearing the cross around her neck.

"Yes, Mistress," the blonde woman wearing the cross replied in a meek tone of voice as she looked down, momentarily embarrassed, before bringing her eyes back up to where they were expected to be.

Owen looked her over again and at once had a spark of recognition and chuckled when he remembered where he knew her from. She glanced at him with the slit eyes of a stern look, and Owen smiled and nodded at her with a knowing smile on his face. Almost immediately a look of horror washed over her face and she darted her eyes back to the front. A look of fear and embarrassment still dominated her face, though she tried to force a normal expression onto her face, and for the most part was successful. She never got the fear out of her eyes, as sporadically glanced back at Owen when she thought he wasn't looking.

Her name was Rebecca Moore and she lived in his neighbourhood, or rather his old neighbourhood. She was married with three young children, all under the age of six. She was an active member of the local church, constantly canvassing the neighbourhood for support for this or that church initiative. The last time he saw her was about a month ago, when she came by to ask him for clothing donations for some far-off disaster stricken part of the world. Rebecca and her husband ran a Christian Bookstore along the same street that Karen had her Spa. You would best describe Rebecca as a "pillar of the church," and while she was quite religious, she was not the "holier than thou" type.

Rebecca had an innocent and pure mystique about her and you hardly could imagine her saying a curse word or knowing the existence of the BDSM lifestyle, let alone be up to her neck in it! It was strange enough for Owen to see women wearing "Dog Collars," as he saw them, and prancing around a public place in the nude. To see Rebecca Moore doing so was too strange and bizarre for Owen to accept. It was one thing for him to be caught up in this world of kink, neither he nor his family had ever been that religious, but Rebecca Moore?

"I take it, you've chosen her then?" Heather asked with a raised eyebrow.

At that, Rebecca took in a quick breath of shock and looked at Owen with a fearful look. Her whole being trembled slightly as she glanced between Heather and Owen. She was shooting him a pleading look as she timidly waited for her fate to be decided by others. Owen was about to move on, and instead choose the Native woman, but something about knowing Rebecca, and her timid nature drew her to him. Owen was curious to know what she was doing there, and she was pleasing to the eye. "What could it hurt to get a neck-rub from her?" Owen thought to himself.

"Sure, she'll do fine," Owen said confidently as he winked at a mortified Rebecca.

"Good! You heard him, Sluts, the rest of you disappear," Heather said in a commanding tone as she glanced at the women standing beside Rebecca. "As for you, Slut, tend to our guest and make him feel welcome and relaxed," she said to Rebecca in a stern manner.

The other women turned on the spot and walked out of the room via the same doorway that they had entered through. Rebecca took a few steps forward and approached Owen with a timid and fearful manner about her. She folded her hands in front of her and bowed slightly as she prepared to speak to Owen with fear in her eyes. Owen smiled warmly at her with a charming and disarming smile, at that Rebecca took a little comfort, and smiled back at him.

"What would you like to drink, Sir," Rebecca asked Owen in a soft, timid voice that sounded sweet and enchanting to Owen.

"Dark rum and coke," Owen replied politely, with a nod to Rebecca.

"Right away, Sir," Rebecca said with a weak smile as she bowed slightly to Owen and turned to walk away from Owen.

Rebecca swiftly left the room via the same door in the far corner, and returned just as swiftly with a glass containing a dark liquid in it. She approached Owen and handed it to him, again bowing to Owen with a shallow bow as she looked at him and waited for him to say something. Owen took the glass and sipped its contents before he nodded his approval of the drink Rebecca had brought him.

"Is it to your liking, Sir?" Rebecca asked in a timid tone, with a hopeful smile her face.

"Yes, delicious," Owen replied with a smile and at that Rebecca smiled a pleased smile.

Owen was about to turn his attention to Heather, expecting Rebecca to walk around to the back of the chair and begin what he assumed was to be a neck-rub to relax him. Instead, Rebecca dropped to her knees and shuffled up close to Owen so that she was kneeling right in front of him. Again, Owen dismissed this as her waiting for him to give her another command. Yet again Rebecca surprised him when she reached up and without hesitation unfastened his pants! As soon as his pants were undone, she grasped the waistband of both his pants and underwear and pulled hard. Instinct took over and Owen even lifted his ass up to allow the pants to drop. Before long he had his pants and underwear down around his ankles and his semi-hard cock exposed to Heather and Rebecca. Before a stunned Owen could ask what she was doing, Rebecca silently answered his question when she took his cock in one hand and brought her lips to the tip of it.

Owen watched in slow motion as the woman whom he had seen scolding teens for kissing in public wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and started to swallow his whole cock. It was a bizarre and surreal experience, however, given the fact of who she was and what she was doing made the experience incredibly hot. Owen watched in awe as Rebecca sucked hard as she bobbed her head up and down on his cock. One thing was for sure, while Rebecca looked innocent and was indeed a religious woman, she certainly was an experienced cocksucker! Owen sighed to convey his pleasure and let his head flop back, enjoying the moment for a bit. He then looked down at Rebecca smiled at her a gratified smile and patted her head. Rebecca, in turn, looked up at Owen and smiled at him as best she could with his cock in her mouth, but conveyed her mood with her eyes.

"Now that you're relaxed, we can continue, don't you agree?" Heather asked with a wry smile on her face.

"Certainly, I have to admit, you certainly know how to make a guy feel welcome," Owen chuckled but the laughter drained from his voice before he spoke in a plain tone, "I appreciate it and all, but why am I here?" he asked curiously. As Heather and Owen talked, Rebecca continued sucking Owen's cock at a leisurely and relaxing pace.

"True enough, I'll get to the point. As you know I was involved with Richard as his, Dominatrix, his Mistress, if you will, for ten years but I broke that off four years ago, for . . . personal reasons," Heather said and fell silent while wearing an uncharacteristically, uncomfortable look on her face.

"Personal reasons? He said you got board with him, and broke it off with him after telling him he was an idiot for staying with you for so long," Owen replied without compassion, as he looked at the hurt expression that flashed across Heather's face.

"No, that wasn't it," Heather said in a hurt tone of voice, ending with a regrettable sigh. "I started to care for him too much. Too much to be able to keep it purely business . . . I . . . I . . . loved him," Heather added with an ashamed tone of voice and let out a few sobs and show a rare display of emotions.