One
Shep
Ican barely sleep. The feel of her, her scent. The sounds she makes. They still linger all around me. Even after two showers and five hours of travel. I’m never disappointed with my annual trips to Mistress Evelyn's. She and her husband are selling the place soon, but thank fuck they are selling to one of their dedicated switches and his new wife. The doors to The Club will remain open and my membership intact. And she’ll still be unattached. My pet. My Meegan. I roll over and reach over Titus for my phone. Just one text and our session will be over until we meet up again next year.
My screen lights up my darkened bedroom. Titus whines, sick of my shit, and moves to the foot of my bed. He's been with the neighbors, two miles down the wooded trail for the last few days. Jad and May-Bell are saints. They know a man like me living alone in the mountains has needs. Even if they only make themselves painfully apparent once a year.
My eyes instinctively go to the various unread alerts dotting my screen. My work emails can wait for the morning. My thumb skips right over the seven and zero back lit on the red dot. I open my text messages. Mistress Evelyn received my proper and humble thanks before I caught my flight back to Sacramento. The rest of the gang wished me safe travels and sincere hopes that I won’t stay away for so long. But they know the deal. I'll be back in another three hundred some odd days. I click on my messages and hit Meegan's name.
Are you in bed, pet?
Her response is immediate.
I am. I miss you, though.
Come back.
Soon, sweetheart. Soon.
Now give me a proper goodnight.
Goodnight my delicious,
delightfully rugged mountain king.
Ismile, my cock throbbing in my thermals. I have to give it a rest. For a few hours. Meegan rode me raw. There’s no need for me to jack off for at least a week. Another text bubble pops up.
It's Marcos.
Ichuckleat the smiling emoji he sends along. Titus huffs and shifts again. "Sorry, boy." I reach for his thick fur and give him a comforting pat.
It'stime for me to tuck her in.
Apicture pops up, Meegan spread out on top of pink satin sheets, her inner thighs bruised up with marks from my hands and my flogger. Her pussy lips still bright red and tender. I won’t make it until the morning. I grab my cock and start stroking as I type.
Goodnight to you both.
Take care of my girl.
Done and done.
Another picture. Marcos's stubbled cheeks and his tongue just about to drag over her clit. Good thing I am not the jealous type. I drop my phone on my bed. I'll plug it in when I’m finished.
That’s when I hear the screams.
Later, when I wash her blood off in the shower I suddenly remember the day we learned about adrenaline in my AP chemistry class. How it makes you sharp, quick, super human.
I am out of my bed and in my boots before I hear the second shriek. Titus is already off the bed and bounding out the bedroom door. Isn’t even a full five seconds. My steps are thundering across my hardwood floors. The pounding comes, her shrieks louder and louder as I retrieve my shotgun. Still loaded. May-Bell has always said, when you're home, boy, keep that porch light on. You never know when a stranger will come calling in the night.
"HELP!" The single word comes clearly through the thick wood I sanded and stained with my own hands.
I nudge Titus out of the way, his panicked barks mixing with her cries, then yank the door open. A Black woman is on the other side. She tumbles into my arms, a blast of cool air surrounding her unusual warmth. Later, I'll get a good look at her. Catalog her clean dark hair and her wide hazel eyes staring at the ceiling, the fear burned into her gaze forever. But in this moment there is only blood.
I catch her with my free hand, sure to keep a grip on my firearm.
"He's coming—he's trying—he—they killed—kill—" she gasps, tries to swallow, but chokes. No gurgling though. Just spits the blood out of her mouth and tries again. She sobs. "He was right behind—me." I look down at her hands, all cut up to shit. Down at her feet. Only one wool sock. Her other foot is dirty and bleeding. I squint out into the pitch black woods. How fast was she running? I have a motion sensor installed. Still, darkness.
A second later though, I can hear him, crunching through the underbrush. And sure enough, there he is bounding through the trees. I don’t think. I shove her behind me. I feel her as she trips over Titus's hulking frame. Feel the thud as she sprawls out on the floor. I step out on the porch and swing my shotgun up to my shoulder.
