Jo White: Chapter 16 (Patreon)

I am still burning up with shame as I wait for the gate to open.  Lurching into the parking lot I am so happy to hear the gate closing behind me.  Safe and sound back in the estate I park the damnable shimmying and shaking jeep and shut it down.  It reluctantly sputters to a rest as I glare at it spitefully.  

“I totally faked it ya know.”  I say defiantly to the old Willys as I might to an odious lover once the post-nut regret kicked in.  “You’re old, you’re ugly, you smell bad, and…you weren’t even that good.  I’ve had plenty of cars better than you.”  It sits there in it’s smug self-satisfied silence.  “Jerk.”

Leaving the key in it like I found it I slide out of the driver’s seat and down to the ground.  Thankfully, while my panties and skirt were definitely damper than a summer sweat could account for, the seat cushion showed no evidence of my shameful orgasm.  I gather my purchases and cling them tight to my chest as I storm away from Sloane’s vibrator on wheels.

“Somethin the matter?”  Comes a low gravelly voice.

“Eep!”  I startle.  I hadn’t realized somebody was back here with me.  Looking toward Roland’s shack I see a tall black man in his late forties or early fifties with a thick mustache, stubbly face, and short trimmed salt and pepper hair sitting on a rocking chair under the shade of his front door canopy as he sharpened a pair of secateurs with a file.  He had on leather sandals, a well worn pair of khaki cargo pants, and a faded orange and yellow Hawaiian shirt with only a few of the buttons done up.  Perhaps a bit past his prime now he never the less had the type of rugged features that only got better with age.  I try to act like everything was normal despite how flustered I still was.  “Nothing the matter.  Every thing’s fine.  Uh, you must be Roland.”

He gives me a nod.  “And you must be Jo.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Mmm.”  He grunts, his eyes returning to the tool he was working on.  Not sure what else to say, and wanting to get inside to change my damp dress and knickers, I take a step toward the gate.  Without looking up he stops me.  “I’d take the long way around if I were you.”

I pause.  Looking to the gate and then back to him I ask.  “Something wrong in the garden?”

With a smirk he says.  “You could say that.”  He glances to the gate.  “Fool kid Johnny’s got romantic notions again.  I keep warning him off but he’s as stubborn as a mule and as randy as an Autumn buck.”

“Johnny?”  Casting my mind back I recall Dom telling me about him.  He was Roland’s young assistant, he wasn’t ‘in the know’ like Roland was, and something about having had more ‘forget-me-shots’ than was good for his health.  I never did find out what a forget-me-shot was.  “He’s in there now?”

“Yep.”

“With someone else?”

“Yep.”

“And I shouldn’t go in there?”

“I wouldn’t.”  He shrugs.

“Okay then.”  I say, suddenly very curious as to what was happening in our backyard but unwilling to just walk in and find out.  “I’ll…”  I thumb toward the car gate.  “…take the long way around then.”

He nods.  “Good plan.”

I change course and let myself out the driveway.  Praying that the butt of my dress wasn’t damp enough to be visible I follow the high walls of the estate and hurry around the block to the front gate.  Though I knew the odds were vanishingly small that the other people I pass were among those that saw my big O back in traffic, and it had been a big one despite what I’d said to the jeep, I still felt like the eyes of the city were on me.  All I wanted right now was to hide away.  I pass through the gate and make for the front door…though the moment I was on the grounds my steps began to slow.  Drawn like a moth to a flame my gaze pans to the side of the manor.

“Don’t do it Jo.”  I say under my breath.  “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough already today.”

Coming through the back gate would have been way too obvious to anybody in the backyard…but going around the side of the house I might just be able to catch a peek at what was happening back there without drawing the attention of anybody back there or inside.  After nearly getting caught peeping just yesterday I knew only too well that it was curiosity that killed the cat.  My kinky little heart skips a beat as I also remember that voyeuristic rush that followed my spying.  The thing with cats is…they come with nine lives. 

I had to see who was back there, I had to see this Johnny, and I just had to see what was happening.  Looking left and right I make sure that I wasn’t being watched before taking a hard left turn and step off of the walk onto the grass.  Walking quietly yet ‘casually’ I stroll around the side of the house.  Hugging as close to the porch that encircled the building as I reasonably could I pretend to be looking over the flowers and bushes as I slowly make my way toward the back.  In one of the bushes I stash my shopping bag.  As I get nearer and hear the low murmur of voices I abandon my sightseeing act and go into full stealth mode.  I duck my head lower than the porch’s floor and pad toward the corner.  Before I risk a peek I hunker down behind an bushy azalea and listen.  The voices were distant and just barely audible over the burble of the fountain but loud enough to make out if I concentrated on them.

“Oh Johnny.”  I hear the icy German accent of our resident giantess.  “You sad little thing.”

“I…I love you Gretchen.”  Comes a supplicating male whine.  “I love you!”

“I am sure you do.”  Comes her frigid reply.  “But I do not see how that effects me.”

“Please, just give my a chance.  I’ll do anything, ANYTHING!  Please my goddess.”  He spoke like a man begging for his very life.  “Please let me worship you.  Please, let me be your man.”

Geez!  The guy had it bad.  Though, to be fair to him, if there was anybody I’d ever met that seemed worthy of worship it was the towering statuesque blond.  Remembering how she stepped on my shoulder and looked down on me with those piercing blue eyes still gave me tingles.  Leaning forward I peer around the corner only to see an empty garden.  By the direction of their voices it seemed that they were down one of the side paths.

“My man?  Man!?”  Derision drips from Gretchen’s razor sharp Teutonic inflection.  “What could I possibly need with one of those?”

“Please Mistress!”

I am just about to rise up a bit to see if I could catch a glimpse of them…when a body pushes in behind me and a hand clamps over my mouth!

“MMMFFF!”  I scream out into the clasping palm sealing my lips.

“Shhhhhhhhh.”  Comes a soft whisper in my ear as a distinct earthy aroma creeps into my nostrils.  Beatriz!  “We mustn’t let them hear us sister.”

Her hand pulls away and Beatriz lets me go.  I spin toward her stammering and stuttering.  “I-I-I wasn’t…”

“Shhhhhhhh.”  She puts a clammy finger to my lips.  “They’ll hear us.”

Her freakishly huge eyes were wide with excitement though her pallid face is eerily calm.  Just inches away from me I could see now that her eyes weren’t simply the darkest of browns, they were truly black!  I am frozen a moment as I stare into the onyx abyss of her soul.

Removing her finger she tilts her head in the most unsettling of ways.  “There’s a better place.”

“I…I wasn’t trying to…I was just…”

Ignoring my obvious lies she says softly.  “Follow me.”  Turning she crawls lizard-like on all fours back about ten feet before tucking in behind the shrubbery.  I see the top of her head as she kneels up and opens a hidden hatch built into the wooden skirting of the porch.  She looks back at me and smiles, clearly excited to have found a partner for her skulking.  “Come along sister.  I will show you.”  And with that she slips through into the darkness beyond.

Caught red-handed I weigh up my options.  Do the smart thing and get the hell out of here and pretend this never happened, or follow this creepy corpse maiden into some dusty crawlspace by myself.  It’s not that I thought Beatriz would hurt me, it was just…eek!  A shudder runs through me.

Wisdom might have prevailed had Johnny not let out a pathetically puling.  “Ohhhh Mistress, pleeease!”

I had to see!

Scurrying back I follow Beatriz’s path into the greenery and slip through the opening.  With the grace of a drunk I tumble down to land splayed out on my belly.  The ground under here was unexpectedly set about a foot deeper than the yard.  I get up and dust myself off, thankful that the floor wasn’t exposed dirt or gravel but instead some sort tile.  Though it wasn’t high enough to stand the sunken floor provided lots of room to comfortably crawl around.  Looking about I see…nothing.  At first I thought she’d started off without me but suddenly Beatriz’s pale face, and only her pale face, materializes  before me to hover in midair just a few feet in front of me.  In the dim light, with my eyes still adjusting, her raven black hair and dress were invisible to my sight.

“Close the door.” She whispers.

“Uh, yeah.”  I say, still wary about being alone with her but too invested in the mischief to give it up now.  I swing the hatch closed and hear the latch shut, leaving me in near total darkness.

There must have been some scant light however as I could still make out the ghostly visage of my partner in crime, at least until she turns away from me to flit from sight.  As she starts to crawl I can just barely see the white stripes of her stockings.  On my hands and knees I focus on her legs and follow along.  I was already having regrets about this decision even as a part of me is filled with a playful delight.  I never got up to stuff like this back home.  I’d never had a sibling to get into trouble with before.  And, ghoulish though she may be, I also felt weirdly touched that Beatriz had wanted to include me in her peeping.

Beneath my hands the tiles had the slightly rough texture of natural stone, enough to give a good grip but not enough to be abrasive.  Kept from the sun’s rays they were pleasingly cool to the touch and I could occasionally feel the glassy smooth lines of some sort of pattern set into them.  Why someone would give the crawlspace beneath a porch such a finely crafted floor I could only guess at.

Trying not to think about the spiders and other creepy-crawlies that were surely all around me I have to crawl at full speed to so as not to lose sight of the nimble Beatriz.  Her unique style of crawling where she used her feet instead of her knees while still somehow staying low to the ground allowed her to move as swiftly as a brisk walking pace.  Unfamiliar with the space and with my knees constantly catching my dress I simply cannot keep up with her and soon after turning the corner I find myself in total blackness.

“Bea.”  I whisper.  “Bea, where are you?”

“I am here sister.”  Comes Beatriz’s voice from the far corner.

Up ahead a sliver of light is sliced through the darkness.  My focus locked on that I hurry to catch up.  As I approach I could see leaves and dappled sunlight on the other side of the foot long slit that Beatriz had opened in the skirt of the porch.  Beatriz’s glasses glint in the light as she settles down to kneel behind the peephole.

“They’re in their usual spot.”  She says just loud enough for me to hear her.

I crawl up to kneel beside her and peer through.  “Woah!”

“Shhhhhh.”

Through a perfectly situated break in the foliage I see a man in his early twenties standing in nothing but his boxers!  Johnny was a beanpole of a man with slender limbs and a narrow nearly hairless chest.  He was of Asian descent with lean handsome features and tousled black hair that came down into a fade.  Very cute!  Almost as cute as my Prince…though admittedly I was biased.  On a garden bench behind him his clothes sat in a bundle.  I could not yet see Gretchen though I could tell by where Johnny was looking that she stood behind a tree to his right.

“Did I tell you to stop?”  She says, her voice so much clearer now thanks to their proximity.

“But…”  Johnny glances toward the house then back down his shorts which I could now see was tented by an erection.  “…what if somebody sees me?”

“What if they do?”  She scoffs, entirely unconcerned with his dignity.  “Take them off, now.”

“Yes Mistress.”  He says.  After a second of hesitation he takes a breath and pulls his underwear down.  He steps out of them and puts them on top of the rest of his clothes then stands back up to face the world as naked as the day he was born.  His dick jutted up toward the sky from his black pubes at a sharp angle.

I cover my mouth and titter.  Beatriz smiles and shuffles in closer to me so that we peeped shoulder to shoulder.  “They do this a lot?”  I whisper.

“Almost every week.”

“Goodness!”  All that air of aloof superiority and here Gretchen is playing with the gardener.  “She’s as bad as Sloane.”

“No sister.  She’s much, much worse.  Watch.”

Just then I catch a sound.  Starting low but quickly rising in volume comes the most cruel and wicked mean-girl cackle that I’d ever heard my life.  The ice queen Gretchen was laughing!  Not laughing at the situation but AT the nude Johnny.  The pointed mocking nature of it could not be mistaken.  No simple chuckle of amusement was this either.  Gretchen laughed as if she’d just heard, or in this case saw, the funniest joke in history.

“Man!?  You called yourself a…man!?  With THAT!?”  Into view comes Gretchen’s hand, a long thin finger pointing directly at Johnny’s exposed manhood.  “Ahhhh ha ha ha ha ha!”

Incredibly Johnny does nothing to hide his shame.  Unlike me back on the road he actually had a choice yet he stands there and takes it.  Though his face goes a bright pink he stays straight and tall with his arms at his sides.  His belittled penis flexes hard enough to stop bullets.  In shock I look to Beatriz then back to him again.

“Mistress…please don’t laugh at me.”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”  Gretchen steps forward, pointing and mocking the poor boy right to his face.  Or it would be right to his face if she wasn’t a foot taller than him.  The German looks incredible in a dark red silk blouse, the collar up-turned and the top few buttons open, a hip hugging jet black knee-length skirt, black nylons, and bright crimson lipstick that made her devilish grin stand out like a beacon.  “You have the audacity to call yourself a man!?  Ha ha ha ha ha!”

Johnny’s hands ball up at his sides as he squirms beneath her cold blue gaze.

Reaching down Gretchen, careful not to actually touch him, takes the measure of his dick between her thumb and index finger then holds it up to a whole new round of laughter.  “Look!  Look at how small you are.  Ha ha ha ha!  What is that?  Five inches?  What can you do with that?  Pathetic!”

“Ohhh.”  I mutter.  “She’s so cruel!  How can he stand it?”

“Don’t worry.  He loves it.”  Beatriz assures me.  His unflagging stiffy seemed to back that statement up.  Seeing this and thinking back to some of the things Prince told me last night I wonder if he and Johnny were birds of a feather.  Men were so weird!

“I’m sorry Mistress.”  Johnny says, bowing his head.  “I am sorry I am so small.”

Gretchen, her guffaws finally fading, walks all around her naked suitor studying his skinny body with a look of contempt.  “With a clitty like that you are no man Johnny.  As a man you are no use to any woman, least of all me.”

“Ohh.  Don’t say that…”

Without warning she spins and gives him a full swing open hand slap straight to his balls!  The clap of the savage strike echoes off of the stone wall behind them.

“GNNNNGHHHHH!!!”  He doubles over nearly to his knees before before struggling to stand straight again.

“Don’t you ever think to tell me what to do Johnny!”  Grabbing his already sore nuts in her long elegant hand she squeezes them like she was juicing a lime.  “I will say whatever I want to say, you little BITCH.”  The hard consonants of her accent give her words all the more impact.  “Understand?”

“Yes Mistress!”  He gasps, rising to his tip toes as her vice-like grip tightened on his tender testes.  “I’m sorry Mistress.”  His face contorts into a pained grimace.  “I’m sorryyyyyy!”

“Better.”  She lets him go.  “Don’t let it happen again.”

He lets out a gasp of relief and lowers back to his natural standing position.  With awe-struck eyes he looks up at her and through a trembling voice says.  “Thank you Mistress.”

Poor Johnny!  Nobody deserved to be addressed like that.  Nobody deserved to be manipulated like that.  Nobody deserved to be exposed and humiliated like that.  Nobody deserved to be handled like that. She treated him like meat.  She treated him like dirt.  The sky-scraping fraulein treated that soft, yielding little man no better than a stray dog.   How could he just stand there and take it?  Poor, poor, pathetic, pitiable Johnny.

“I wish that was me.”  Whispers Beatriz.

“Me too.”  I hear myself respond.

Chapter 17