Sugar & Spice

[Cum_Inside]

Sugar & Spice (Closed)

wiped down the smooth marble top of one of her tables as the after church breakfast rush slowed and customer’s began to indulge their morning hunger or guzzled back a fresh cup of coffee before other responsibilities called them away.

The Daily Grind was a happening cafe in the heart of downtown. It was relaxed but colourful and bright, meant to encourage a good start to anyone’s day with a multitude of tall windows overlooking the greenery of South Street city park. There were two floors with one large winding staircase connecting them. On the lower floor, booths and tables were spread out about the edges. Each table had it’s own power source built into it so that customers could plug in their electronics to charge them while they sipped away at their beverages. The higher floor provided a space for daily demonstrations on how their coffee beans and speciality pastries were ground or made each day, chefs focusing on their craft just in front of their customers in an interactive manner. The beans were always fresh ground and ready for brewing that same day before the flavour escaped them.

Brooklyn loved the laid back atmosphere of the joint. She’d been working here for just about five months now part-time to help with tuition fees on her evenings and weekends but she was struggling to find the hours she needed to really pay her bills. She had debated on a second job but the ones she’d applied to so far didn’t mesh with her schedule here. She had secured herself a few one-off catering jobs at certain events and parties around the city all because she knew a girl in her class whose parents owned the catering company. This girl, Hannah, had put in a good word for Brooklyn, but getting approved for those events was difficult and often her work hours made that pretty impossible. Brooklyn enjoyed the catering but it didn’t come around often enough for her and it was frustrating. Brooklyn was running herself ragged with overtime to make up for the lack of another source of income. Still, she was happy here and had several clients who came in every shift and always managed to put a smile on her face. It was like a home away from home in which her customers got to know her by name and she felt comfortable engaging them in conversation about their kids or what they were up to outside the cafe. Everyone was so friendly. She didn’t see herself leaving this location anytime soon.

Just as she finished clearing down her section and getting ready to call her shift to an end, the store manager gestured to her behind the counter. Jacob was closer to her in age at just 25 (she was 20), but he’d worked himself up to the top through hard work and dedication and Brooklyn was pretty sure that he was her role-model. He’d been more like a big brother to her since she began working at TDG and it made her feel so relaxed. Brooklyn’s own family… well, when she’d moved to the city to follow her dreams of becoming a nurse, they’d practically disowned her. Her parents weren’t too happy that Brooklyn didn’t want to marry and settle down with the son of their town’s pastor. They wanted her to be happy in a marriage where she was nothing but breeding stock for a man she could truthfully say she greatly disliked.

Her family was deeply religious and before she turned 18 Brooklyn would never have thought anything about the twisted mindset her parents had, believing it to be healthy and normal. The day they came to her and expected her to sign a marriage licence to promise herself to Johnny Linden without another word, Brooklyn had quietly expressed her desire to make more of herself than that. Her father was outraged and Brooklyn left the conversation in shocked tears, unsure how a man of God could tell her that she was not capable of such a thing and that a woman’s place was in the bed of a man who could protect her and not in the workforce. Her mother was much the same, sneering at her aspirations of becoming independent and helping others. Brooklyn had known that her parents valued traditional roles but not to the extent that they would forbid her from education. Her own mother worked at a non-profit shelter for homeless women and children (but only because it showcased her “compassion”, Brooklyn later found out)! Now she knew better: it was only to put on a show for the neighbours so that they might think the Reid’s were that quintessential family that had everything they needed and more and not that they were closeted bigots with old-fashioned ideas.

Brooklyn had packed all her belongings and moved into the city to pursue her dreams when she realized she couldn’t stay in such a stifling environment. She still loved her parents, loved God, but she hoped that they could see the err in their judgement and come around. One year later, that daydream seemed impossible.

As Brooklyn closed the door behind her and settled into the lone leather chair in front of Jacob’s desk, she offered him a smile. His friendly expression turned a bit darker, and her smile dimmed a bit in response. “What’s up?” Brooklyn questioned haltingly, looking up at him where he leaned against the edge with his legs crossed one in front of the other.

Jacob frowned. “Hey Reid, I’m really sorry to do this but…”

Her heart stopped. She needed this job! Was he firing her? For what? This couldn’t be happening. She felt like she might be sick suddenly.

Jacob reached for her shoulder. “Hey, stop that. I’m not letting you go, but I do have to cut your overtime. We’ve hired on more staff lately and we have to spread the hours around more equitably is all. It’s going to be hard to give you the hours you’ve been working, so we’re going to have to cut your evenings. I’m really sorry, Brooklyn. But hey -- won’t this be better for your classes? You’ll have more time to study and hang out with your friends. It’ll be better for you.”

No. It wouldn’t.

Rent was piling up and she had no idea how she would pay this month’s electricity bill even with all the overtime. It was early spring and there was still a twinge of winter chill permeating the air. She’d been freezing her butt off all winter and instead of turning on the heat she had just saved up a bit and bought an extra blanket or two. She couldn’t afford tuition. She struggled to feed herself adequately, skipping meals here and there to make rent.

Brooklyn fought back the tears, nodding almost robotically and standing on shaky feet.

“Yeah, uh… Yeah, I get it. I… I understand. I’ll just… I’m gonna go,” she mumbled, teeth clenching. “I’ll see you next Saturday then?” She ventured, before turning and rushing to the door without waiting for an answer.

Two hours later, Brooklyn curled up into a ball on the couch of her shabby apartment and cried her heart out, wondering what in the world she was going to do now. It seemed like her only choice was to dropout and move home but that was the lat thing she wanted to do: it would be admitting to her parents that she had failed and she couldn’t handle that.

Maybe now with her hours cut back she could feasibly work a second job into her schedule to make up for it? Only working weekends wouldn’t sustain her. She had to do something. Maybe she could speak to Hannah and see if she could work an event in the near future.

 

[HornyDog2017]

Peter Tipton looked out from the south ridge of his property at the wonder of the virgin, old growth wilderness forest that was now his and his wife's back yard. For most of his life, Peter had fantasized about having property that looked out over the Crater Ridge Wilderness Area.

He'd grown up a country boy, son of a manly-man rancher and a soft spoken but very community oriented small town doctor. There home had been just 50 miles from here, on the other side of what they'd called The Ridge. Ten, twenty, thirty times a year he'd slipped into his hiking boots and headed for The Ridge, for anything from an afternoon hike to month long survival training. Being in The Ridge had been the only thing Peter had ever truly yearned for in his life.

Well, except for the woman he'd called his wife for the past 12 years.

Susan slipped up behind Peter, sliding her hand under his arms to pull his back to her front. She whispered in that sweet, seductive tone of her, "Whatcha lookin' at?"

He didn't immediately answer, but finally said with humor, "Trees."

They laughed together, then turned to face one another for more embracing and some soft, loving kisses. He could never be happier than he was with Susan, and she'd grown up such a very different person than he had. She'd lived her entire life in the Big City. She was the daughter of a Wall Street hedge fund manager and a former Beauty Queen, and with the exception of the periodic trips to Vale, Sun River, and other such country spots, as she'd thought them, she'd never been out of sight of a spectacular Cityscape.

At just 24 years of age, while a junior at University, Peter had inherited his father's estate when Old Man died of a massive stroke. Carl, who had lost his wife two years earlier to cancer, had been just 42 years old.

Peter had been invited to the Big City by the family attorney to deal with his inheritance. To his shock, Peter learned that his father's property was sitting atop a massive natural gas reserve, that Carl had sold the ranch, and that Peter -- the sole heir -- had inherited $36 million dollars and an annual payment from the gas company of $1.2 million dollars … for life!

While in the City, he'd met Susan, who had recently sold her second best selling novel and was doing a tour around the country. Without telling her who he was or what he was worth, he began courting her. Eight months later they married, and on their honeymoon he showed her his portfolio for the first time.

"I wanted to make sure you weren't marrying me for my money," he'd joked at the time, before adding, "Now, maybe we can toss out that prenup' you made me sign so I wouldn't take half of your book royalties when you finally got tired of me and booted me to the curb."

Since then, they'd had a wonderfully happy, wonderfully comfortable, and wonderfully exciting life … which was only made more so in each of those three areas when a couple of years ago they shared a rather particular … interest, you could call it.

"We have to get ready," she told him between kisses. She reminded him, "The Bettermans anniversary."

Another night, another party.

That was the life Peter and Susan were living these days. Neither of them worked. But they liked to contribute to the community -- local, state, national, worldwide -- and one of the ways they did that … was by going to parties. Oh, not just your run of the mill, gossipy, mingling type social events. The Bettermans -- philanthropists like the Tiptons -- had always used their anniversary party as a way to collect money for one or the other of their favorite good causes.

"What's it tonight?" Peter asked as he took his lover's hand and walked her back to the massive home that they lovingly called The Cabin. "Save the whales … three legged dogs … city kids who can't afford the newest version of Windows...?"

Susan laughed, slapping his butt and telling him, "A non-profit organization based in Detroit that is replacing lead piping in low income homes across the Midwest … or, where it isn't worth the cost of doing so, finding new homes for the affected families."

"Huh," Peter responded with surprise. "Finally something that might actually make a difference.

For such events as tonight, they employed a former Marine who lived on the property to drive them to and from. Kenneth, who'd suffered PTSD until he found the peace and quiet of The Ridge, had fallen on hard times and been living on the street. He'd been with the Tiptons now for three years, providing the property security as well as the couple.

Peter didn't find security necessary but went with it anyway. Few people knew just how loaded he and Susan really were. The couple maintained a very simple lifestyle and never socialized out here at the Cabin. People knew they were set for life, but they believed it was only because Peter had sold land to a petroleum interest, which wasn't at all uncommon in these parts.

They arrived at the party, and Kenneth departed to go spend the night at a coffee shop called The Daily Grind. One day in the near future Peter, Susan, and Kenneth would find it very ironic that they all had met and gotten to know a cute, sweet, barista named Brooklyn.

Tonight, though, Kenneth wouldn't find the young thing at the coffee shop but instead Peter and Susan would find her at the Betterman's party. They'd met her before at such events, Peter and Susan had; Peter had met her while she was carrying trays of hors devours at the Richardson's fund raiser for a local high school's new music room; Susan had met Brooklyn while she was working the champagne bar at a similar event for the homeless shelter destroyed by a raging blizzard; and the two of them had met her together at a fund raiser to support scholarships for worthy, hard working students in threat of having to quit school because of rising tuition and fees.

Neither of them could recall what Brooklyn had been doing that night. They only remembered that she had shared her own story about education costs, right before Susan slipped two $100 bills into her smock pocket and then raised her finger to her lips in a shush gesture, knowing that tips weren't protocol at such events.

"There she is," Susan whispered to her husband as she caught sight of the young beauty. "Let's go talk to her about it."

"Are you sure about this?" Peter questioned his wife. Susan's smile told all, though, and he took her hand and led her through the crowd until they intercepted her. Upon making eye contact, Peter greeted, "Brooklyn, right?"

"It's good to see you, sweetheart," Susan said, using her pet name for any female she found intriguing, interesting, friendly, or just sexy … all of which she found the server to be. She asked about school, with Peter chiming in to some of Brooklyn's answers. When it appeared that they'd kept her from her job too long, Susan dropped the bomb, "My husband and I were talking after the last time we saw you … and we were wondering … we understand paying for school and rent and utilities..."

"Cell service, internet … all those other Apps or services or whatnot that young people like yourself have," Peter continued, not really knowing what he was talking about. "It's a challenge--"

Susan thought her husband was in over his head, so she interrupted, "We were just wondering … we have lots of room at our house. If you didn't have rent and all of those other costs with which to deal … would that help you?"

 

[Cum_Inside]

Brooklyn had just finished collecting empty champagne glasses when she felt more so than heard the deep rumble of her name. She turned questioningly and caught the eyes of a lovely couple she’d met at such an event a few times in the past. The Tiptons, she recalled, having a good memory. She also remembered just how overwhelmed she’d been at the bar during her last meeting with Mrs. Tipton, unable to serve alcohol due to her age but still helping out with cleaning and bussing dirty dishware. It was probably true that one of those champagne flutes cost more than her month’s groceries and Brooklyn was so nervous about breaking something with her clumsy fingers or displaying just how much she didn’t belong here among these rich people. She was so envious.

Needless to say, her anxiety had overcome her momentarily. When she had greeted the luxurious woman in front of her at that party, she was pleasantly surprised with her mannerisms and sweet personality. She had made Brooklyn feel comfortable with a gentle hand on her wrist and a lilting, “thank you very much dear. I hope you have a fabulous evening,” as she slid off her barstool in search of her husband (who Brooklyn had to admit was a tall glass of water). Brooklyn had almost began blubbering like a fool at her kindness but thanked the woman in return before the truth of her situation began spilling out in a tangled mess of words. Brooklyn had watched this soft affectionate look spread over Mrs. Tipton’s face before the elder stepped in close and slid two bills into Brooklyn’s smock. She had no idea how generous the other woman had been until she’d gotten home that evening, but even just the gesture itself made her feel so much gratitude.

She’d kept an eye on the couple all night as they’d mingled in case they were making fun of the poor pathetic little waitress, but each time Mrs. Tipton caught Brooklyn’s deep green eyes she just smiled at her and turned back to her hubby.

She hadn’t seen them since, but here they were, impeccably dressed and so so beautiful together as the last few times the young girl had seen them. Brooklyn blushed and pushed a loose lock of dark hair behind her ear, the rest tied back in a slick bun to bely just how long it actually was.

“Hello Mr. and Mrs. Tipton. Are you having a good evening? What can I do to make it better for you?” She questioned dutifully, before being drawn into conversation, shyly answering their queries.

She wanted to laugh at how confused Mr. Tipton looked as he talked about “Apps” and whatnot, but Brooklyn didn’t have the heart to tell him that she didn’t know either - she couldn’t afford a phone or a laptop. Her papers were done either at the cafe or the school library and anything else was a luxury. She was just as confused. But there was one thing niggling at her and she couldn’t help but blurt it out.

“Wait, but... young people? How old are you? Aren’t you like, 30?”

Clapping her hands over her mouth in shock, Brooklyn realized how rude that had sounded. But my heavens, the couple couldn’t be much over that 30 mark, right? They were both so perfect and they looked phenomenal for their age if that was the case. Then again, weren’t most people who attended these parties old? How else did one get to be so rich? It was like wisdom she thought - it only improved with age.

It was only then that her overwhelmed mind caught up with the reasoning for so many questions.

She sputtered.

These people didn’t even know her! She could be a serial killer. THEY could be serial killers. Any of them could be crazy. Were they really such great people that they’d offer a total stranger room in their home? Brooklyn suspected that was the case. She might be naive but she’d heard various partygoers discussing the Tipton’s and their generous nature. It seemed that they really were perfect.

“I... I couldn’t!” She exclaimed, then realized she was almost shouting hysterically. “No, thank you for the offer but it wouldn’t be right. You’ve been too good to me already. That money from last time... Thank you so much. You have no idea how much that helped me but I really just can’t. I won’t be anyone’s burden,” she rambled.

“I’m okay (she wasn’t). Really. Please don’t worry about me.”

A bad habit of hers was rushing off before the other party could respond and that habit was only emphasized when she was overwhelmed. For her fifteen minute break she locked herself in the staff washroom and sat on the flush just staring at her hands in amazement at what had just happened.

But Brooklyn had morals. She was stubborn. She wouldn’t just take money from strangers because she couldn’t make ends meet. It just meant she’d have to work harder, even if that meant pulling all nighters to work in an overnight convenience store or something.

With a determined set to her young face, Brooklyn straightened her shoulders and rejoined the party. She served hors d’oeuvres to the crowd the couple was standing with quietly but professionally, and when her tray was empty, Brooklyn again felt the questing delicate hand of Mrs. Tipton in her smock. For both women were notoriously stubborn and set on getting their way, though they both had different goals.

As Brooklyn changed into her streetgear at the end of the evening, she pulled a business card from her black apron only to find a phone number on it. She bit her lip as she memorized the digits, unsure why as she had no way of even calling in the first place if she changed her mind.

She repeated those numbers in her head the whole bustrip home in awe.

It didn’t matter that she hadn’t accepted, only that the offer had been extended in the first place. What amazing people the Tiptons were.

Only, Brooklyn had no idea just what she was up against in the coming days. Once the Tiptons decided they wanted something, well, they always got what they wanted. Brooklyn just had no idea yet that the desire included struggling waitresses in their home being spoiled rotten and caged underneath their bodies in bed as they all settled into life together. She would learn that lesson well.

 

[HornyDog2017]

“Wait, but... young people? How old are you? Aren’t you like, 30?”

Peter smiled at the question while his wife let loose a pleases laugh. "Oh my word, you're so cute, Brooklyn. If only."

Peter noticed that his wife didn't actually correct the girl, telling her that she was nearing her 34th birthday and Peter was equally close to his 39th. It was true that they both looked good for their ages. Undressed, they looked pretty good as well. Peter was no competitive body builder, but he was fit and firm with nice pecs, six pack abs, and strong legs.

And Susan had the most incredible C-cup breasts, what he liked to call gravity-defying for the way they thrusted out before her with large, ever-hard nipples almost the size of Hershey's kisses; and to go along with them were a shapely hourglass figure, wide hips, a full ass, and athletic legs that carried her on a four mile, quick paced run nearly every day of the week.

Neither of them was pleased with Brooklyn's too-quick rejection of their offer.

“I’m okay. Really. Please don’t worry about me.”

Susan tried to convince the girl to rethink her decision, but Brooklyn hurried off into the crowd. She looked to her husband, who only shrugged.

"We'll try another way," he told her, giving her a hug and an inconspicuous pat on her delicious ass. "You have your heart set on her, right...? You don't want to consider someone else?"

"No," Susan said firmly. "I want her."

Peter gave his wife a kiss, promised her he'd make it happen, and turned her toward one of the events hosts for some mind numbing conversation.

<<<< ## >>>>​

It was the second Saturday after Brooklyn had lost most of her evening overtime that Jacob called the young waitress into his office. Again, he wore that concerned expression of his as he laid an envelope out onto the desk before him. He could see in Brooklyn's face that she recognized it as the envelope in which pay checks were distributed, and since it wasn't payday, this could only mean one thing.

"I'm sorry, Reid, I really am," he said even before she was able to ask why or even what was happening. "We got bought out Wednesday by some unnamed hedge fund working out of Denver that's bringing in all new weekend staff. Some sort of sports bar theme. I tried to get them to keep you on … told them this was your only income … that you were a student."

All he could do was shrug and, if she asked any, answer her questions as best he could. The last thing he said to her was, "There's an extra hundred in that as severance. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

 

[Cum_Inside]

All she seemed to do lately was cry. Every night she went home and curled up on that threadbare couch she slept on and sobbed between breaks in her newspaper clipping where she looked for jobs. When that didn’t turn up any leads, Brooklyn moved into the library and searched online for hiring ads. At a loss, one month behind on rent and rationing herself to lights only for an hour or two every other day to search through the new daily ads and cold showers, Brooklyn made one ditch effort to distribute her resumes to local businesses like convenience stores, supermarkets and coffee shops.

She ended up getting lucky at a small shop just off the corner of Parker Avenue, a small little store that sold lottery tickets, gas, and chips. It was more a truck stop than anything and Brooklyn got the feeling that it was her body that had gotten the job along with her innocent face and not on her notable lack of work experience. The owner of the convenience store leered at her uncomfortably from his office just off the counter when she worked nights and Brooklyn pushed aside her discomfort for the meager wages, which were still better than nothing.

The nights meant that her grades were at risk of slipping, but she forced herself to stay awake by any means possible and the chill in the apartment during the day helped keep her from falling to sleep instead of studying.

It had been almost a month since the Tiptons offer. Every night off she laid there on the sofa imagining what it might be like to live in their home. She certainly wouldn’t have to listen to her teeth chattering before she finally succumbed to sleep. And baths... would they have a bath tub? Or were they shower people? Brooklyn had almost forgotten what it felt like to soak in the hot water of a bath until she was pruny and thoroughly warmed to the bones.

On a rainy Friday night, Brooklyn sprinted from the store to the bus station. The run wasn’t very long but by the time she made the three block journey Brooklyn was drenched and chilled. She felt uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get to home. Tonight had been a rare evening shift and it would be nice to sleep in her own apartment tonight instead of staring at the same yucky green stain on the white tile that had been there since she started. She’d lost track of all of the imaginative but gross explanations as to what it might be.

She just happened to note a black shape move out of the periphery of her vision before she was hauled bodily off her feet and yanked back against a sturdy frame with a hand clapped across her mouth. The other hand groped at her waist and rear. She struggled, panic bursting through her veins in a white-hot lance, kicking out and trying to wiggle free. Because it was wet and Brooklyn had lost maybe twenty pounds or so over the last two months on her forced diet, her sweater was oversized enough that she managed to slip her arms out of the sleeves and deliver a weak but effective strike of her knee into her attacker’s abdomen.

She ran.

Looking like a drowned rat, she finally sunk to her bottom just inside a 24 hour diner about five minutes away from the scene. The waitress took one look at her and hustled her up onto her feet and into the back room, likely to avoid scaring the other customers away, but she offered Brooklyn a dry set of clothes and a scalding hot chocolate regardless. She stroked fingers through Brooklyn’s tangled hair and spoke softly in reassurance, never pushing.

“Do you want me to call anyone for you sweetie?”

Brooklyn had no one. She didn’t...

Wrapping her arms around herself with a pounding heart, Brooklyn shook her head slowly.

The helpful waitress, Jenna, left her to change with the order to let her know if she needed anything.

It was only after Brooklyn had stripped down to her plain, faded cotton underwear that she thought of the Tiptons. Standing there staring at her shrinking body, skin tight around her bones but not yet looking emaciated, Brooklyn realized she needed help. She was scared to death and being attacked on the way home tonight had only cemented it.

She dressed hurriedly and ventured out to find Jenna. Sitting on the edge of one of the stools, she offered the waitress a shaky smile when she returned from checking on an order in the kitchen. There were only two other customers here and Brooklyn wondered what time it was getting to be.

Jenna pointed her to the clock and remarked casually that it was almost two.

Brooklyn startled. Her shift had finished at 1230. Had it been that long that she’d been in her own head after her almost rape/potential murder? Okay, so she was a bit dramatic. Whatever.

She didn’t feel safe going home. But she couldn’t sit here all night. Feeling terrible, Brooklyn tentatively spoke up. “Actually, about that call. Can I still...?”

Jenna nodded. “You give me the number, doll.”

When it rang, Brooklyn leaned over the counter and took the phone, holding it up to her ear. She felt like garbage bothering them at all, especially so late at night, but she was smart enough to know she needed help.

It seemed like nobody was going to pick up. She almost gave up hope when the voicemail message started to play, Peter’s husky voice hitting her eardrums. Brooklyn sighed in relief, waiting for the signal to start talking.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Tipton. It’s Brooklyn. Brooklyn Reid, you know, that desperate little waitress from the event last month? I know it’s late and I’m really sorry to bother you. I’m just in a really bad spot and I think I think I need some help. Please, I...,” her voice broke here, but she continued undeterred. “I’m at a diner on Rosedale. I don’t have a phone but... please, I just really need a ride. I won’t bother you anymore, but I would be so so so grateful if you could help me out again.”

She left it at that, hoping that someone might get the message before she had no choice but to walk; the buses weren’t running anymore at this hour. It would be about forty-five minutes to get home and a significant portion of her walk was through all the notoriously poor, bad areas of town. That was really her last resort.

 

[HornyDog2017]

It was barely 20 minutes later when a large, black SUV pulled up into the parking lot, parking diagonally across two handicap parking spaces right in front of the windows such that its driver could see inside. Its headlights dropped to parking lights as a couple of truckers who'd just recently arrived donned annoyed looks. A moment later, the vehicle backed away, out of the restricted spaces and out into the dark of the poorly lit, main parking area.

A moment later, a tall, fit, good looking black man entered. He headed directly for Brooklyn; he was already fully aware of who she was. He slowed as he reached her, not wanting to frighten her, smiled, and said, "Brooklyn, my name is Kenneth. I work for the Tiptons. They said you might need a ride out to the Cabin."

He had already caught the eye of the waitress, as well as of the rest of the diners small number of diners. "Can I get a coffee to go, please … tall, hot, and black like me."

It was meant as a joke, and luckily it elicited a smile from the woman. He looked back to Brooklyn, gestured to the stool next to her, and asked, "Do you mind if I sit?"

 

[Cum_Inside]

Brooklyn couldn’t help but giggle, immediately put at ease by this man’s playful demeanour. That and the fact that he was here to get her and take her back home so soon after her SOS call made her feel relieved. The Tiptons had come through for her again. How would she ever repay them?

“Yeah, please do. Thank you so much for coming. It’s been a bad night,” she said, not elaborating. “Suddenly it’s much better.”

He was cute, but not really her type. It just turned out that her type was handsome, rich philanthropists who were already married.

“I’m sorry if I woke you. You probably have better things to do than lugging losers like me around in the middle of the night. It’s really not necessary to take me to this Cabin you mention; I only need a ride home.”

 

[HornyDog2017]

“Yeah, please do. Thank you so much for coming. It’s been a bad night ... Suddenly it’s much better.”

"Yeah, it's pretty ugly out there," Kenneth confirmed, speaking about the rain and cold. He didn't know what Brooklyn had been through, of course.

“I’m sorry if I woke you..."

"You didn't," Kenneth countered very quickly.

She hadn't woken him, but Peter had. He'd been awoken by the call and let it go to voice mail, something they always did for unknown or unfamiliar numbers. Less than a minute after that though, Kenneth was up and dressing and then heading for his vehicle. When Peter or Susan Tipton asked a favor of him, Kenneth was on it.

"You probably have better things to do than lugging losers like me around in the middle of the night."

"Don't say that, Brooklyn," Kenneth disagreed. The waitress arrived with his coffee, and pulling out a twenty and gesturing to Brooklyn's drink as well, he asked the waitress, "Could you be a sweetheart and heat us up a couple of those pastries, too?"

"It’s really not necessary to take me to this Cabin you mention," Brooklyn told Kenneth. "I only need a ride home.”

His friendly expression faded a bit, and with a more serious tone he told her, "I, um … I was told to bring you to the Cabin."

Kenneth was sure he saw hesitation in her face. He smiled again, reassuring her, "It's okay, Brooklyn. I'm not kidnapping you off to some shack in the Rockies for some nefarious and possibly … intrusive aims."

He reached into the right side of his jacket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he flipped through the see through windows: he showed her his drivers license which obviously had his picture and address -- the Tipton's home -- on it; then his Concealed Carry permit, which had his picture and a physical description; then a USMC ID which also showed his face and the words Retired.

"You can trust me, Brooklyn," he told her, adding, "And you can trust the Tiptons."

The waitress showed up with the hot pastries in a paper take-out container. Kenneth smiled to her and asked playfully, "Don't I look trustworthy?"

The forty-something, Caucasian woman who was likely an empty nester or maybe even still single and childless laughed. "At two-thirty in the morning … with you being so tall, hot, and black … hell, I'd trust you right to my bed, honey."

She turned away laughing loudly as Kenneth smiled broadly to Brooklyn and said, "See?"

 

[Cum_Inside]

She blushed, understanding that innuendo clearly even despite how sheltered she’d been growing up.

Embarrassed at making this man feel like he had to prove something to her, Brooklyn ducked her head in shame. “No, I only meant that I don’t want to burden anyone. I trust the Tiptons. I trust you. Why would you go so out of your way and abduct me in front of witnesses if you wanted to hurt me?” Her tone made it clear that it was a joke, though, and Jenna relaxed again, comfortable with Brooklyn’s trust in Kenneth.

The address on the licence was in the opposite way of her apartment. It would definitely be an inconvenience for him to take her home. Maybe tomorrow she could convince him to drop her off back at her own apartment but for now it was likely better to do as she was told. Besides, after she had disrespectfully woken everyone, the least she could do would be to not turn away their offer.

“Just for tonight,” she said definitively.

Trying not to salivate at the raspberry tart she saw tucked inside the box, she looked away. Kenneth was sipping his coffee slowly, but Brooklyn was dead tired and ready to go to bed. She wondered if she would be able to sleep at all tonight. Even if she had to sleep on the floor at the Cabin that would be okay — it was guaranteed to be more comfy than her old, lumpy sofa.

Turns out, she was sleepier than she imagined. The ride in the SUV was short but she didn’t remember much of it. All she was aware of was the firm hand on her shoulder as Kenneth shook her awake and the porch light coming on as Peter Tipton opened the door and took a step onto the landing to wait for his houseguest. She couldn’t see much in the dark, but the outline of the house was massive silhouetted against the starry night sky. They were well outside the city and surrounded on all sides by forest. This place wasn’t a Cabin at all. It was a mansion.

Brooklyn gasped in awe, sliding out of the vehicle, treat box cradled delicately against her chest.

 

[HornyDog2017]

(OOC: For anyone following the story and for my writing partner, too, the link to The Cabin failed in the opening post. I have replaced it with a new house here.)


"Welcome, Brooklyn," Peter Tipton said from the top of the steps leading from the cobblestone drive to the big double doors of the home's front entrance. He said with a genuinely sympathetic tone, "You look tired."

Peter was rich beyond anything Brooklyn could ever imagine being, and yet he was standing there in an old pair of cotton pajamas and a Sherpa lined, trucker's style denim Jacket that had holes in the sleeves from where he'd frequently tangled with a barbed wire fence he and Kenneth had recently replaced.

Kenneth offered the obviously exhausted young woman a hand up the steps if she wanted it, and when the two of them got to the top, Peter did the same as he turned to head them all inside.

The interior of the house was just as incredible and large scale as the exterior. The foyer was a good 20 feet wide and deep, with 18 foot high cathedral ceilings. As they continued forward, three steps before then in an arch descended to a large entertainment area. While most homes like this would include couches, arm chairs, ottomans, and other furniture to serve party guests, this space had only one couch, one love seat, and one coffee table … just enough for Peter, Susan, and one or two guests to enjoy the view out the 25 foot windows on the far side of the room.

And what a view it was. A stone patio with a multitude of sculpted arborvitae and other plants in large concrete and ceramic pots surrounded three beautiful pools that were connected by foot high waterfalls made of locally quarried and natural looking stone. Off to one side was a fourth, smaller pool, this one heated and steaming into the air that was lit by a multitude of soft illumination flood lights.

"Your room is this way," Peter told Brooklyn as she headed toward a hall to the right. As they continued, he pointed in various directions, saying, "The kitchen's that way … library in there. There's a phone and computer with internet if you need to let anyone know where you are."

He gestured her through a door into the bathroom. It was as large as Brooklyn's apartment back in town, with a double sink, a shower, a tub, a Jacuzzi, a steam room, and doors that led to the gym and beyond to a separate, indoor/outdoor, three lane wide lap pool.

They exited through a second door to find Susan turning down the bed that had been made for her. Peter's wife's face exploded with a delighted expression at seeing Brooklyn, then quickly morphed into concern.

"Oh, honey, you look beat," she said as she hurried around the king sized, canopy bed to their guest. She took Brooklyn's hands in her and backed up, looking about herself as she continued the tour her husband had been giving. She repeated what Peter had said about the drinks and food, then looked to the bed. "I got out some pajamas and a robe and slippers … do kids your age wear nightcaps anymore?"

She laughed, explaining, "I wore a night cap as a little girl. But then, I had strange parents and New York City was always cold I thought. Did you want to bathe before bed. I know it's late, but if you want … Peter, you showed her where everything was, yes?"

"Yes," he said simply. He headed for the open bedroom door, saying, "I'm going to leave you in my wife's capable hands, Brooklyn. And remember, you are welcome to stay as long as you wish … not just the night."

Susan repeated her husband's offer, talking about all the property had to offer a young woman. "But you need sleep, so, I'm going to leave you to it."

She took Brooklyn into her arms for a hug, backed, smiled, and headed for the door as had her husband. "Kenneth sleeps in the first room on the far side of the foyer, if you need anything at all. Or if you need a woman's company, we're at the top of the spiral, third door on the left."

 

[Cum_Inside]

She took in the tour half-heartedly, too sleepy to really focus on it all. Still, she was amazed at the cavernous mansion they called a Cabin and the fact that the bathroom was bigger than the space she paid 700$ a month for and much, much nicer. There was even a tub? That was so pleasing.

She grinned widely, allowing the other woman to hug her but more so cautious that she was soaking through the elder woman’s dressing gown with her still sodden hair. She watched Peter go, eyes drawn to the stretch of the T-shirt over his shoulder blades. It was hard to reconcile the image she had in her head of the couple in fancy suits and dresses with the people she’d seen tonight.

She’d think more on it tomorrow. Right now she just wanted sleep. Burrowing her nose into the warm skin of Susan’s neck, Brooklyn’s tired body sagged. It had been so long since another person had hugged her like this. “You don’t know how much I needed this,” she whispered as she practically clung to Susan like a koala, arms wrapped around her waist and reaching up her back to her shoulders.

Susan stood still, stroking Brooklyn’s wet hair in a manner that showed how unconcerned she was with getting her own clothing wet, letting the girl take all the comfort she needed. She did usher Brooklyn into the bathroom to blow dry her hair as the young woman fought her exhaustion, overworked and bone tired. She couldn’t sleep with wet hair lest she catch a cold.

When Susan was finally happy that the girl’s long tresses were dry she urged her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her forehead to lull her.

Brooklyn smiled one last sleepy smile before her dreams took her.

******

She woke confused a few hours later. It all seemed like a dream — was she really sleeping in the softest bed she’d ever known, sleeping like she was wrapped in the fluffy tendrils of a cloud under the roof of two people she admired? With a quick pinch, Brooklyn realized it was true.

But now that she was awake, she couldn’t settle. She didn’t deserve this. The bed she was sleeping in was a bit too soft compared to her worn sofa that she couldn’t find a position that felt right to her. After a while she gave up and after using the facilities, Brooklyn gathered one of her pillows and carefully found her way out to the sitting room where she could look out the windows into the darkness below. The sun was just beginning to rise and it coated the sky a lovely orange. It was perfect.

Curling up on her side with her pillow and a throw blanket off the couch, Brooklyn fell back to sleep on the hardwood floor in the morning sunlight and that’s where the couple found their houseguest in the morning, snoring softly.

 

[HornyDog2017]

When Brooklyn finally rose from her unusual slumbering spot at the top of the steps connecting the foyer to the living area, Peter and Susan both were outside on the stone patio, their chairs turned to look her way as they drank coffee and ate finger breakfast foods.

Susan stood and headed inside to stand before her, smiling broadly as she said in a mock, horror story voice, "It is … alive...!"

She laughed as Peter came up behind her, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist. "I told Susan when we bought that guest room bed that we were just waiting money."

"Go get our guest some coffee, silly," Susan told her husband, giving him a bump with her shoulder. She looked to Brooklyn and asked, "How are you?"

They chatted, and while it would have only taken Peter 40 seconds or so to retrieve the cup of caffeine, he didn't return until he thought they were done with their conversation. He knew they were done because after he'd poured a large ceramic mug full of a delicious coffee they had shipped in from Columbia specifically for a little café they owned in town, he'd tapped at the code into the wall panel outside the Security Room -- which was off the kitchen hallway -- and went inside to watch and listen to the two on a combination of three different professionally hidden cameras.

Peter had spent a great deal of time enjoying the vision that was Brooklyn Reid, and despite her looking a bit mussed at the moment, he was enjoying the sight of her now as well. Brooklyn couldn't know it, of course, but he and Susan and been keeping a close eye on her since before the event night when they'd offered her a room in their house.

And after they'd purchased The Daily Grind and had her discharged to prompt her their way, they'd only stepped up their surveillance -- their stalking -- and then did so again when it began to look like she'd decided that they had nothing to offer her. Two separate people in her apartment building kept tabs on Brooklyn, as well as one of the Assistant Managers with her catering employers. Oh, they didn't know they were reporting to the Tiptons, of course; they thought she was being investigated for a background check for a well paying government job and -- while it was a seriously weak assed story -- they didn't care because they were getting $500 a week for daily reports.

Susan was becoming desperate to have Brooklyn in the house, and Peter feared that she was going to somehow tip their hand. When she suggested having Kenneth feign a robbery and rape attempt, Peter thought for sure they were going to be implicated and spend the next year fighting criminal charges. But after deciding to use a third party rather than their security man, Peter and Susan both had been shocked that within two hours Brooklyn was on the phone desperate for them to save the day.

"Here you go," Peter said after he'd left and locked the security room and taken the mug out to Brooklyn. "I have things I have to do today, but Susan is going to be here to take care of you today."

Susan jumped in, talking about getting Brooklyn showered and dressed … about showing her the rest of the property … about making her room more comfortable.

"We can use the horse trailer to move your things out here," Susan told Brooklyn. In her mind, the young woman had already agreed to move to and live on the estate. "Do you have furniture...? Or just clothes and other personal items like that? We could use the SUV if that's the case. Kenneth could help."

 

[Cum_Inside]

Brooklyn perched on the edge of the chair while she chatted with Susan. Before she knew it, she was sliding back further into her chair and drawing her knees up to her chest more comfortably, laughing and opening up a little as Susan drew her into deeper topics with well-timed jokes. Peter returned with the mug of coffee for their guest and Brooklyn almost jumped at the electrical charge of his fingers against hers as they exchanged the brew. She sucked in a surprise lungful of his tangy cologne and felt her mouth get a little fuzzy as the delicious flavour of it in her nostrils. Wow, he smelled good. Had he always smelled this good? Or was it just because she was suddenly surrounded on all fronts by this couple, the fragrant perfume Susan was wearing, the scent of pine needles in the air, the crisp lines of Mr. Tipton's tie on top of his dress shirt and the slight peak of collarbone underneath Susan's flowy blouse? Brooklyn wasn't sure.

"Thank you," she said, blinking owlishly up at him. "Have a great day Mr. Tipton. Thanks again for everything - I really appreciate it. I'll be out of your hair soon."

She saw Susan's face fall, understanding dawning on the other woman. Brooklyn didn't like the pout that formed across that beautifully drawn mouth and she wanted to wipe it away, but Brooklyn had to go home sometime. Such a pretty woman shouldn't be so sad. She couldn't stay forever, no matter how much this woman seemed to want her to. She couldn't be a burden on them like she had been last night.

The lifestyles they led were completely different. Brooklyn couldn't mesh in this world, and her broke ass would never be enough for people like this. She was ashamed of herself.

Picking at her thumbnail nervously, Brooklyn debated on the best way to answer Susan.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Tipton, but I really think I should go home. I was scared to go home last night and the buses weren't running, but I have to face it eventually. My rent is late and my extension runs out any day now. I have to go pick up a few more shifts with the convenience store I'm working at and..."

Brooklyn halted herself, afraid she'd said too much already. Susan watched her carefully, delicate blonde eyebrow raised into her hairline. What was it about them that made her feel safe enough to spill all her troubles?

"I just can't burden you with my problems. It's not right. That's the only good thing my mama taught me," she remarked bitterly. "Anyway, I was just hoping that maybe I could have a bath and some breakfast before I go. I'll see if one of my classmates could come get me if that's okay. All I need is a phone and I won't trouble you."

She was thinking about that gigantic soaker tub and those pastries Kenneth had grabbed last night. That would be a wonderful start to the day. Brooklyn couldn't remember the last time she'd been able to eat anything as tempting as that raspberry tart, needing to spend her money on more practical things.

 

[HornyDog2017]

Brooklyn was continuing to say she needed to go home, and Susan wasn't going to let that happen, obviously. But the latter knew that pushing the former would backfire, so she let it go. She hopped up and grasped the girl's hand, saying with cheer, "Come with me. You want a bath ... we'll get you a bath like none you've ever had."

Susan took the teen to the massive bathroom she'd seen the day before to show off the incredible tub. Its interior space was oval, 8 feet in length and 4 feet in width; it had four inset, inlet nozzles that hid when not in use to make for a smooth wall throughout; and those nozzles could fill it to the rim in under 50 seconds. It could dispense bubble suds, water softeners, skin softeners, and six different aroma therapy ingredients. And an Alexa like voice recognition system remotely controlled the television mounted flush in the wall, a recorded music library of more than 1.8 million songs, and -- of course -- the sound system that played them all, as well as the lights, room heat, Jacuzzi jets, tub wall vibration system, and -- Susan's absolute favorite -- lumbar supports built into the lower rim of the tub that could be manually or automatically inflated and deflated to prevent the lower back pain that sometimes resulted from laying in a tub's arch shape for too long.

She showed Brooklyn how to turn on the each of the controls, then left her to enjoy it. "I'll put out some clothes for you. Yours are in the laundry, but I have some things left over from some family who visited recently, and I am sure there's something there you'll like. What can I get you to eat or drink while you're enjoying this heaven?"

Susan made her way out of the bathroom, and on the way to the kitchen called her husband. As Peter had before her, Susan accessed the Security Room. She switched the monitors to show the view from the hidden cameras in the main floor bath.

"She's getting into the bath now," Susan said as her husband answered.

"I'm watching her now," Peter said. He was riding in the middle passenger seat of the SUV with Kenneth behind the wheel, on his way to the city; he was watching Brooklyn on a tablet via the security feed from the home's secured server and wifi. "You chose well, Susan."

Susan smiled, both because of her husband's appreciation for her choice in play things and in the absolute perfection of the play thing herself. She murmured into the phone, "Don't I always?"

They finished their conversation, during which Susan updated Peter on the next step. She asked what he thought, to which Peter said, "Honey, you don't need my input or my approval. You are the brains behind the happiness we enjoy. I'm just the brawn."

Susan put together a plate of food and drink and headed back to the bathroom. She hadn't locked the door, and she wasn't sure whether or not Brooklyn had while she was on her way to the kitchen. It didn't matter, though; Susan reached her left hand out close to the door, and the RFI switch in the charm bracelet she wore automatically and quietly unlocked the door.

She entered, carrying the platter and telling Brooklyn what she was bringing her. Susan set the food on a low lying stand next to the tub and told her, "I have a solution."

She studied the young woman hidden in deep bubbles for a moment as she offered to feed her so that Brooklyn didn't end up eating the bubbles on her fingers. "You won't take charity from us no matter how much we want you to have it and no matter how much we don't consider it charity … so … you'll come to work for us."

Susan popped a grape into her mouth and continued, "We don't have a housekeeper or a cook or … well, all we have is Kenneth, and he's already the housekeeper, bodyguard..."

She didn't add potential mugger, knowing that probably wouldn't go over well. Susan continued, "You'll continue going to school--"

With a motherly tone she stressed, "And you'll bring home good grades. You'll clean … cook … you'll help me, sort of a Lady's Maid, like Anna in Downton Abbey. Did you watch Downton...? Oh, it was a wonderful show. The big difference, of course, is you won't live near slave conditions like the show's servants did."

Susan's lips spread in a bit of a devilish smirk here, not because she thought her comment about slave conditions was funny but because, if all went as planned, Brooklyn would come to understand that the servants in the popular British television show had had it lucky.

"You'll work 10 hours a day the days you don't have school," she continued, asking, "You go Monday, Wednesday, Friday, correct...? So, 20 hours a week. We'll up that to 5 days a week during your summer break, but you'll also get Spring and Winter breaks off. And in return, you'll have room and board--"

She gestured toward the door that led to the lavish guest room in which Brooklyn had slept last night. Susan knew, of course, that that room would only be used in the short term. She and Peter had other sleeping arrangements in store for Brooklyn.

She continued, "--run of the whole house except for a few rooms that are private to Peter and I or even Kenneth … access to a car … do you like convertibles...? Or do you know how to ride a motorcycle? We have both, as well as just, I guess, regular cars. And of course a stipend. How's a thousand dollars a month sound, in addition to all I already listed?"

 

[Cum_Inside]

The tub was like nothing she’d ever seen. It was too high tech for a girl like her, so she focused on the main controls and of course, the bubbles. Because Brooklyn was too ashamed of her body lately, she stripped in a flash and slid under the water, hoping the bubbles permeated the tub quickly so that she wouldn’t have to see it. For some reason she wasn’t concerned about locking the door, at ease for some strange reason with her saviours. They’d been nothing but good to her.

Even when the bathroom door opened and Susan returned with a variety of different fruits and finger foods for breakfast, she thought nothing of it. Brooklyn even spied a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, which she reached greedily for with both hands. Susan allowed her to take it but refused to let Brooklyn feed herself, holding a strawberry up to the girl’s lips commandingly. Brooklyn opened her mouth and obediently took the ripened berry inside as she considered the suggestion.

It did sound like a good idea. Working for the Tiptons had to be a much better deal than that skeevy guy at the convenience store. 1000$ a month would definitely help, even if it was way too much. She wouldn’t have rent to contend with anymore and might actually be able to save some money, but saving someone else’s didn’t sound right either.

She couldn’t really cook that great but if she lived here with the internet she might be able to find some new recipes and practice new skills. Cleaning would be easy, though she’d never had to take care of a space like this.

She didn’t know anything about that television show, but she shrugged that off. Even living with her parents, television had been restricted unless it was the news. She really had been so sheltered. What would she do with free access to all the modern conveniences?

Hesitantly she spoke up. “I never learned how to drive. Nobody ever taught me.”

And that was really all the agreement Susan was going to get for now, at least until Brooklyn’s fingers shrivelled from the heat of the bath and her body started to itch. She washed her hair quickly and efficiently. By the time she was ready to get out, Susan had cleared the tray and held out a large fluffy black towel for Brooklyn to use to dry off. The towel was spread open, ready to wrap the young girl up in its warmth.

Meeting Susan’s unwavering eyes, Brooklyn felt that homey, safe feeling come over her again. She rose out of the bath with downcast green eyes to hide her shame at her frail body and stepped carefully toward’s Susan who wrapped the girl up tightly. Then she grabbed a second towel for Brooklyn’s hair and began drying that, too. Even despite her weight loss, her body looked good if not just a little on the thin side. Her breasts weren’t huge by any stretch, but they were a decent handful, sitting at a nice B cup. Her nipples were light pink, areolas small. Her hips were wide, though, with a nice amount of firm bottom on her. Her mama had always said that Brooklyn had “child bearing hips”, whatever that meant. Her skin was pale and smooth. The hair on her mound was dark and trimmed neatly, more a preference thing for her than anything sexual; Brooklyn had never been with a man, had never allowed anyone to see her this way before, but curled her lip at the unkempt look of being unshaven. https://imgur.com/a/BMkumr4

Brooklyn took a deep breath and locked eyes with Susan once more. It was now that Brooklyn understood the depth of what was on offer and the risk that she might not be able to support herself much longer if she refused. Her eyes watered.

“I’ll do anything to repay your kindness. I don’t have much at all but I promise to work hard, Mrs. Tipton. I won’t let you down.”

 

[HornyDog2017]

"We're here, Mister Tipton," the former Marine announced with a casual tone as he turned the vehicle into the parking lot of Peter's destination.

"Fine, Kenneth," his employer told him, adding, "Find a place in the shade to park. Will you go in and order a couple of coffees? I'll be right behind you."

"Yes, sir."

Kenneth did as told, and Peter was left behind in the shadowed car to watch what he assumed would be the final minutes of his house guest's bath. Soon, Brooklyn was rising out of the tub, her thin body glistening in the soapy water, bubbles clinging to some of but not all of her curves.

He pressed his thumb and index finger to the tablet's screen and spread them perfectly, zooming in on the young thing's youthful, firm breasts. Without realizing he was doing it, Peter licked his lips as if preparing to take one of her little pink nipples into his mouth and bite it. He shifted in his seat, then unbuckled; he need to reposition his cock, which has swollen uncomfortably within his boxer-briefs.

Then Peter heard what he was sure was making his wife tingle with joy: “I’ll do anything to repay your kindness. I don’t have much at all but I promise to work hard, Mrs. Tipton. I won’t let you down.”

He listened as Susan responded, "I'm sure you'll do fine, sweetheart. Now, lets get you to your room and see if any of the clothes I picked out will fit you."

As Susan stepped aside to let Brooklyn pass, she looked up to the camera and microphone hidden in the intricately detailed work of the bathroom's woodwork … and smiled in delight.

Peter tapped on the screen and used the menu to select the cameras in Brooklyn's bedroom. He watched as Susan showed off some of the clothes, shoes, and other accessories, followed by a promise to take her shopping for some clothes that would be appropriate for working around the house.

After Susan left the young woman to dry and dress herself -- again glancing to a camera, knowing that her husband was watching -- Peter continued to look in on Brooklyn until she was fully dressed and the peep show was over. He set aside the tablet and headed in for his meeting, moving slowly through the parking lot to give his cock time to go back to sleep.

 

[Cum_Inside]

The closet was brimming with a multitude of options in every colour, fit, style, fabric and season. There were dresses, pants, shorts, hoodies etc. Brooklyn selected a pair of shorts that really only covered her bum, thin and lightweight before grabbing a white tank top with purple flowers. Compared to her apartment, the Cabin was warm, but that could also be her flushed skin from the bath.

She carried her outfit back out to the bed and dropped her towel, shimmying into the clothes she’d selected after choosing a practical black lace bra and panties. She was astounded that everything fit her perfectly as though Susan had expected her to give in. The tank top was a bit transparent in certain lighting but Brooklyn was unconcerned; she was wearing a bra, after all, and the only one around to see her was Mrs. Tipton.

Finding the other woman sitting on the loveseat with a book in hand, Brooklyn padded over to join her, sitting gingerly next to her on the edge.

“Is there anything I can do now to get started? Can I get you anything to drink? I admit I’m not quite sure what to be doing with myself...”

 

[HornyDog2017]

Susan watched Brooklyn approach her across the foyer and living area with a delighted smile. She was too thin, almost on the verge of gaunt in Susan's opinion, and she needed some fattening up. But once back to her proper weight and color, she would be exactly the woman Susan wanted for her husband. And Susan knew what Peter needed in a woman. The two before Brooklyn had been exactly what he'd needed and exactly what Susan had wanted him to need. At least until Susan had decided that her want for his need no longer suited her.

“Is there anything I can do now to get started?” the teen asked when she joined Susan. “Can I get you anything to drink? I admit I’m not quite sure what to be doing with myself.”

"Not yet, sweetheart," Susan told her with the loving tone of a mother. "Soon. Right now … we make you comfortable."

<<<< ### >>>>​

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity for Brooklyn. Peter and Susan sent Kenneth with the teen in his SUV to gather her possessions. She was moved into the room near the heavenly bath as promised. Susan took Brooklyn shopping for work clothes. Susan had joked about getting Brooklyn a French Maid costume, something that had caused the girl to blush a fiery red. But in the end, they'd gone with comfortable button up blouses, pants, and rubber soled shoes.

Susan thought they made Brooklyn look like a hospital volunteer, a candy striper without the stripes. She hated the conservative look, but she was patient; the time would come soon enough for the young beauty to dress as if making herself available, 24/7, to fulfill Master Peter's every sexual whim without notice.

It only took a couple of days for Brooklyn to get her color back, and by the end of the first too weeks she'd gained most of the weight she'd lost during those lean months. Peter and Susan spent many hours -- often together -- watching the beautiful teen in her bathroom or bedroom, viewing her in various states of undress on their tablets or on the big screen television in their own bedroom.

Susan was once again spending time to her knees before her husband's bared groin, sucking his cock while he himself watched Brooklyn bathe or shave her legs or prance about in her underwear in the presumed privacy of her room. He would cum in her mouth while praising her by the name Brooklyn, and Susan would smile up at him with his white ejaculate on her lips and chin and cheek, knowing that soon it would be Brooklyn herself who would perform this delicious act.

And classes had again become a happy part of the student's life. Three times a week, one of the three adults in the house would drive Brooklyn down to the train station where she would catch the commuter train to the City, then get the rest of the way to the campus using an Uber, Lyft, taxi, or ride share. In the afternoon, she'd backtrack to the house the same way or -- if she'd had an afternoon or evening study group -- Kenneth would come down to the City and pick her up for the easiest return available.

All was going very well, and Susan and Peter couldn't be happier. Brooklyn was progressively becoming more an more dependent upon them: for her room, her board, her food, her cash. She was a fish nibbling at the bait of the hook they were dangling before her. And the time had come to set that hook and begin reeling the little fish in.

Peter began making himself a little more … available to Brooklyn over the next couple of weeks. He began to spend more time at the house than he had previously, while at the same time Susan began to spend less. It was late spring, and more and more he wore clothing that showed off more of his fit body: shorts with tank tops, muscle shirts, or no shirt at all. In the gym, he could often be found in men's spandex weight lifting shorts that showed off the shape of his 8 inch, thick cock. He'd taken to swimming in the nude at times when he knew Brooklyn was about to arrive home, so that it looked like he'd simply lost track of time when he emerged from the water to pad off into the pool room with his semi-erect cock wagging back and forth before him.

Susan for her part had very casually begun talking about her life with her husband over the past twelve years, including intimate descriptions of their interactions with one another. She often embarrassed Brooklyn, causing her to turn a bright red. Often these little girl talk chats ended with Susan making some sort of off hand remark about how she regretted that she no longer satisfied her husband the way she once had.

"Sometimes I wish he would just find himself a lover," she'd said during their last little talk. She'd laughed at the suggestion, blaming the four glasses of wine she'd claimed to have consumed. "At least then I would know that he was happy. And I would be able to get a good night's sleep."

<<<< ### >>>>​

It was a Saturday night, which in the beginning had been one of Brooklyn's 5 days off a week but which had slowly morphed into being one of her work days. The teen was performing her Downton Abbey-style lady's maid duties for Susan. The Mistress -- which Susan had decided Brooklyn should call her -- was meeting old college girlfriends of hers at 9pm for some dancing at a new club in which the Tipton's had invested.

After Brooklyn had helped Susan dressed and do her hair and makeup, she walked her out to the Jaguar sedan where Kenneth was waiting. Sudan told Brooklyn, "I need you to keep an eye on Peter tonight … a little after hours service, if you don't mind. He's been out in the pool or on the patio or moping around the yard all day."

The original arrangement between Susan and Brooklyn had included the latter being on duty from 6am to 4pm. But there had been times when that late hour hadn't been late enough, so -- after bumping Brooklyn's monthly pay up another $200 -- she'd begun working until 6pm. Then, with another $200 jump, it became 8pm.

As if that wasn't enough of a manipulation, Susan and Peter had faked an argument about needing a servant half day on Saturdays, too. The pair had manipulated the situation perfectly, and without even offering a bump in her stipend, Brooklyn had begun spending 4, then 6, and now sometimes as much as 8 hours serving the couple on Saturday as well.

"You don't mind do you, sweetheart?" Susan begged with that tone that always seemed to work on the dedicated young thing. She hugged Brooklyn even before the girl could respond, thanking her for something she hadn't agreed to with, "I'll make this up to you, I promise. Just go out and check on Peter and make sure he hasn't drowned himself or something."

Once in the car, Susan texted her husband that the arrangement had been made. He, in turn, shed the swimming shorts that were the only thing he was wearing and dove into the pool to do some laps. When Brooklyn came around to check on him, the seeming-drunk-but-very-sober Peter, ascended the concrete steps out of the pool to lay back in a lounger, asking Brooklyn if she wouldn't mind bringing him a whiskey from the patio's wet bar.

 

[Cum_Inside]

She settled into her new lifestyle. Even though she worked a lot, it was still less difficult and more comfortable than any of her other jobs prior to this had been. Well, except for the times she caught Mr. Tipton leaving the pool room naked — that caused a funny feeling to settle low in her gut. She’d never felt that way before. At first she assumed that she felt guilt for her free shows, but after a while she began to notice that he was completely unconcerned about his nudity.

Brooklyn had never seen a man naked outside her nursing course and even then it had been so clinical of an experience that it meant nothing.

But Mr. Tipton....

At first she tried to turn away whenever she caught a glimpse of tan muscular flesh, but after the first few times, Brooklyn found herself glancing out of the corner of her eyes in curiosity. He really was dashing, body honed and strong, one of the fittest men she knew (not that she knew many), and based on her classes, Brooklyn already knew that his cock was slightly above average, long but thick. She didn’t know why she recalled that fact, of all things.

Mrs. Tipton told her that she could no longer please her husband in bed and wasn’t that a shock? The blonde was a bombshell and Brooklyn doubted that very much, but she couldn’t help but wonder just what was going on. In all things they seemed very happy, other than the times they argued just out of her earshot (which she didn’t know was carefully put upon). Without saying anything, Brooklyn took up more of the slack around the household to help out and decrease the stress on her Mistress.

Another thing changed. Brooklyn had no access to the internet during the day. It always seemed to be down whenever she needed it, but she attributed that to signal out in the middle of the forest. It always worked when Mr. Tipton came home and he said it was because of some “hotspot” thing he did with his cellphone. She never thought twice about it, shrugging and moving on.

Some nights when she was alone in her room and recounting the day’s events, she thought of Mr. Tipton, with his amazing body and personality, so lonely with a wife who apparently couldn’t satisfy him (even if Brooklyn thought that was silly), and her fingers slid down her belly to the heat between her thighs under her shorts or panties. The first few times, Brooklyn had drawn her hand back in shock, realization of what she was doing settling in and shame slamming through her. She’d always been taught that masturbation was a sin and she was never to do it, but she didn’t know why. Now, under a roof other than her parents, Brooklyn found herself not caring about that. Mr. Tipton must masturbate if the Mrs. didn’t please him. Right? Brooklyn thought about that the next time the pads of her fingers touched slick skin and it was almost embarrassing how quickly she managed to make herself feel real good, though she never could reach that final threshold she’d heard about. An orgasm was still elusive. She had enough “wank fodder” as she’d heard it termed that she didn’t need the internet. Maybe she was just doing it wrong.

One night after Mistress had gone out with her friends, Brooklyn searched out her Master, who she found getting out of the pool where he’d been doing laps in the nude again. This was the first time she’d ever interacted with him while he was naked, but Brooklyn suspected he’d had a bad evening after the warning from his wife and requests for whiskey, so Brooklyn treaded over to the wet bar careful of the water on the floor. She mixed a glass three fingers deep for him with no ice, just how he liked it, and deposited it in his open hand.

She forced herself to not show her discomfort with all his skin on show. Even now after swimming, Brooklyn could still smell the sharp pleasing scent of his cologne lingering. “Anything else, Sir?”

She didn’t say how she had been asked to basically “babysit” him, but Brooklyn decided that maybe if he was content to lay here and drink that she might grab herself a book and settle a short distance away, just enough to give him his space, but close enough if he asked for anything that she might get it promptly.

 

[HornyDog2017]

Peter was laid back in the chaise lounge, naked from head to toe, his fit body glistening as the soft flood lights -- adjusted to mimic the color of the overhead moon -- shone down upon his wet body ... and his semi-hardened cock.

And Brooklyn walked up and stood over him, offering out the tumbler of whiskey as she diverted her eyes to not look upon his manhood … or … maybe only feigned diverting her eyes...? Peter couldn't tell as her direction of delivery had been from behind and to the side and her back was now to him.

“Anything else, Sir?”

"Take a seat, Brooklyn," Peter told her with a polite but still somewhat firm tone. He gestured to the matching deck chair that would put only four feet between the teenaged housekeeper and all around fetch-it girl and her boss's cock. "I want to talk to you."

He would wait for her to sit or -- if she didn't, not wanting to be in such proximity to her employer's nudity -- would simply go on with her standing there, "Are you happy here, Brooklyn? Is the Mistress treating you well? I'm sorry, I haven't been around much lately … to ensure that you were finding your place in our home … finding your comfort … your happiness, and joy."

In truth, Peter had been hanging out more and more lately, both he and his cock. But that didn't fit with the tale he was concocting now. He continued, "I love my wife very much … but sometimes … sometimes I think she married me for my money. Oh, she's a good woman … but … as a wife goes … there are areas of our life that can sometimes be … lacking."

Peter and Susan had, of course, rehearsed this portion of their manipulation of little Brooklyn, just as they had the girls -- ages 18, 19, and 20, not that that had been planned -- who had preceded her. He let that portion of the conversation slide once Brooklyn had -- or hadn't? -- commented on it and changed to topic.

"Do you have a boyfriend at school, Brooklyn?" Peter asked. He had a bit of a smile on his lips, teasing her gently, "Some guy who makes you wish sometimes that you didn't live clear out here in the woods, so far away from him. It's okay … you can tell me. I won't tell Susan."

He added that last bit as a portion of their ploy to put some distance between both Peter and Susan and then Brooklyn and Susan. It had been Susan who had been Brooklyn's primary supervisor for the most part thus far, though obviously, Brooklyn had been servicing Peter as well. It was that servicing that the couple wanted to change in a dramatic way, of course, and to do so necessitated the need for Brooklyn to believe that if she had an issue that needed resolution, it was Peter to whom she would come.

 

[Cum_Inside]

Brooklyn didn’t know that Peter trusted her enough yet to speak with her about his marital issues. She didn’t think they were that close, so it came as a surprise. It made her feel good.

She sat as she has been told to, legs over the edge of the chair and body facing him to maintain an open posture for their conversation. She tried not to look at his penis, but her eyes kept sliding back down his fit pecs and abs to rest on it, where it laid against his thigh, thick and full even now that he wasn’t really even erect. She’d heard the saying “he’s a grower, not a shower” before from her classmates and wondered if Peter’s dick might get even bigger when he was engorged. Brooklyn’s cheeks turned fiery red.

Brooklyn nibbled her lip shyly. “No, Sir. I’ve never had a boyfriend before. My parents didn’t believe in dallying with boys I wouldn’t marry and once I moved into the city I had no time. Besides... who would want someone struggling so pathetically to even feed herself as a girlfriend? No. There’s no boyfriend in my life, Sir. I’m real sorry to hear about your issues with Mistress. I don’t know the story, but she did say that she couldn’t make you happy anymore and that seems very lonely for you both. Both of you have been very good to me and I’m happy here. I just wish there was something else I could do to help.”

Brooklyn didn’t outright say that she was a virgin, but she pondered whether or not Peter would get the hint or not. She hadn’t meant to spill that little detail, but it was out of the bag now if only he cared to read between the lines. Maybe he was too drunk for that. She hoped so.

 

[HornyDog2017]

“No, Sir. I’ve never had a boyfriend before."

Peter liked the sound of that. Of Brooklyn's three predecessors, only one had been pure of body when Susan found her. One had had several lovers already, despite being only 18 years old; and another, the 20 year old, had only recently lost her virginity, but it had caused her to be less ... what was the word ... well, innocent was the correct description.

"My parents didn’t believe in dallying with boys I wouldn’t marry..."

Though he didn't mean for it to happen, Peter's peter twitched a bit at the sound of that. Susan had, of course, done a background check on the Reids before making the decision to bring Brooklyn into their lives. They were what some people would have called bible thumpin' conservative hill folk. Peter hadn't read the entire dossier, of course; that was Susan's area. But he got the picture enough to know that there was still a good possibility that even since getting out from under her parents' roof and thumb, Brooklyn's pussy was still yet to receive its first visitor.

"Besides... who would want someone struggling so pathetically to even feed herself as a girlfriend?"

"You are being too hard on yourself, Brooklyn," Peter cut in, lifting his drink to continue the feigned storyline that most of what he said or did tonight could in necessary be blamed on the alcohol. He added, "Any man would be lucky to have a girl like yourself as his girlfriend."

Peter had almost said lover, but it wasn't time for that quite yet.

She talked about Peter's faux-issues with his wife, and he nodded or murmured at the appropriate places to show agreement with what Brooklyn had to say.

"I just wish there was something else I could do to help.”

"There is, Brooklyn," Peter said quickly. He lifted his tumbler to his lips, drained it, and held it out toward her. He laughed, telling her, "You could get me another drink. With ice this time. On the rocks … let's get a little crazy."

After she'd refreshed his drink and returned to her seat, Peter studied her for a long moment. It was longing look -- both intentional and staged -- meant to make her wonder just what was going through his head. Then, he scooted over to one side of the lounger.

"Come sit by me, Brooklyn," Peter said, patting where he'd made plenty of room for her to put her buttocks down sit next to his thighs. "Come sit with me … so we can talk."

 

[Cum_Inside]

She gulped, looking down at the space next to him on the lounger and back to his face a few times, uncertain. She wasn’t quite sure exactly what he was thinking, but even sober Peter was a mystery to her. Drunk Peter was way out of her comfort zone. Even though his tone was a bit longing, the firm look in his eyes made it clear it was a command.

Hesitating only a moment, Brooklyn slowly crossed the few feet to his lounger and sat down on the very edge, trying to make as much room between them as she could on the chair. It was difficult and she was tense, having never been this close to Peter before let alone a naked man, but he smelled good and he even smiled at her, so Brooklyn tried to relax a bit.

“Is this better, Sir?”

 

[HornyDog2017]

Even as Brooklyn was contemplating whether to join him on his chair or not, Peter was already beginning to stiffen. By the time she'd sat, doing all she could to maintain a gap between her buttocks and his thigh, his more hard than not cock had lifted off his belly.

“Is this better, Sir?”

"Yes, it is, Brooklyn," he said softly, his gaze set firmly on her nervous expression. He wore a polite smile as he studied her a long moment, then reached out to take her hand into his own. He held it softly, caressing it just a bit, making sure to hold it only tight enough to prevent Brooklyn from pulling it away. He finally asked her, "Do you mean it … when you say you wish there was something you could do to help?"

He listened to her answer, which he knew would be affirmative as they were training her so well. After another moment of gently holding and caressing her hand, Peter would begin to pull it closer to him … toward his groin … toward his cock … to gently and lovingly manipulate her fingers to wrap around his shaft … where he would guide her in stroking it up and down, slowly, tightly...

But … would she stop him before contact was ever made … after contact was made … during his guidance of her … or would she do as she knew her Master wanted her to do?

 

[Cum_Inside]

His hand completely enveloped her tiny hand and she was struck once more by how much bigger he was. Compared to her thin, diminutive stature of just barely over five foot, Mr. Tipton was larger than life. He’d noticed her weight gain though, commenting over dinner one night about the healthy glow to her skin now, pleased she was feeling better. At this moment, she wondered if that pleasure was because he was seeing her in a sexual light like this, hand slowly guiding her own from her own lap and into his.

Brooklyn wanted to help, but she was nervous. She’d never done this before. She knew the Mistress had expressed her desire for her husband to take a lover but Brooklyn didn’t think she’d appreciate it very much if it was her charge who was living in her house, eating her food and wearing clothes she’d purchased for her who was sleeping with the man of the house.

But Brooklyn’s mouth was drier than the Sahara the closer her fingertips got to hot, hard steel. Her eyes didn’t waver from Peter’s.

“I want... I do want to help but I... I just don’t know...”