The Hands That Lead

A hands on kind of leader…

ItsMagic

Thursday January 17, 2019

Eliza looked out over the cemetery stones as the accursed sun beat down on to her pitch black umbrella. It was undignified to have to come out during the day just because the undertakers would not accommodate her request for a midnight funeral. It wasn’t like she hadn’t offered to fairly compensate them for their time or something, but they’d huffed and turned up their noses at her without much consideration at all.

She let out a sigh as she looked down at her late husband’s headstone, reaching out with her free hand and touching it one last time before walking towards the limo.

Harold had been the love of her life, a dark beacon that called to her the moment she had set eyes on him. Of course, she knew that neither her love, nor the pull she felt towards him had been natural. He had inserted them both into her mind that first day and they had reshaped her life ever since.

It had been at some trashy Hollywood party that she had first met him, as a young struggling actress she went to many of them to try and make connections in the business. She had been the typical bleached blonde California girl that swarmed the parties and vied for the attention of any man that could advance their career.

She’d made eye contact with him, his pitch black suit, shirt and tie matching his hair as he cut an impressive counter to the many brightly dressed men in the room. She had gasped as he reached into her mind; pushing things aside that she’d held dear since childhood, shuffling around priorities that she’d committed her entire adult life to, inserting new wants and desires as if he was added a few ice cubes to a luke-warm cocktail.

When he finally arrived in front of her, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in tightly to him. She’d almost orgasmed right there in the middle of the party and it was just minutes later when they walked through the front door to his waiting limo. The door had hardly closed behind her when she’d dropped to the floor of the car and eagerly given him his first blowjob.

The memory of the taste of his cum still made her pussy moist.

As her driver, Claudette, opened the door for her she took the seat and ran her hand over the empty one beside her. She could still feel his presence there, something she knew would never change no matter how long she would remain in this world, alone and longing for his touch once more.

Claudette had been one of his more recent additions to the household, a pretty brunette that had caught his eye at one place or another, she had become the limo driver when he’d lost interest in the previous one.

As the limo pulled away she contemplated what she would do without him. As his wife, his will had left her his considerable estate, it wasn’t like she would have to work, but she would have to fill her time some way.

Even if she wanted to work, what kind of job would she be able to get? She had been a D list actress before he took her and she had held no job since then. And even though he was gone, the thoughts he had put into her were still there.

The thoughts that had changed her life so drastically. It had taken a few months for her to lose her dark tan, even longer to grow her hair out and dye it black. Replacing her wardrobe had been the hardest part though, tossing aside the sparkly dresses, brightly coloured outfits, and the shoes… oh god the shoes.

She would never change her appearance, never go back to the way she had been before him. She was his dark queen, now and forever and she would have it no other way.

The limo pulled up to her home and she stepped out from it, Jennette opening the front door as she did. The buxom blonde dressed in the french maid’s outfit was the oldest of the staff at the house. In fact, she had been Harold’s ex-wife, the capital B bitch as he often referred to her as when he spoke of her before he had his power.

She had never asked how he had received his gifts and he had never felt the need to tell her, but once in a while, after a few drinks, he did like to reminisce about his before them. Even now she could see the smile on his face as he recounted the changes he’d made to Jane. The stripping back of her vaulted intelligence, the plastic surgeries, the fall from her job as a VP at a large firm, her on her knees begging him to let her work as the maid in his home with the ridiculously fake french accent. He’d even shown Eliza the contract he’d had her sign, stipulating in minute detail, the responsibilities of her new position.

He’d made her read it out loud, point by point as she whimpered and begged him with her eyes to let her stop. The requirement to have her ass always lubricated and ready for use had apparently taken her a dozen or more tries to read all the way through.

He had grown tired of using it after a few dozen times of course, but Jennette none the less followed the details of the contract and was well lubricated at all times. Even now that he was no longer with them.

“Jennette, bring a pitcher of water to my room, that horrid sun as made me thirsty.” Eliza said as she walked towards the main staircase after removing her sunglasses, folding them and handing them to Jennette.

“Oui mademoiselle.” Jennette replied and curtsied before heading to the kitchen, setting the glasses on the table by the door before she did so.

Eliza pussy was buzzing with need, it was one of the ‘gifts’ he’d given her, a constant need for sex. When he had been alive, it had been fine, he was always ready and if he wasn’t, he’d just tweak her mind to put it off. But now, it was ever present and only growing stronger with each passing day.

When she arrived in her room, she laid back on the bed and retrieved her trusty vibrator from the nightstand, pulling her black dress to the side, she started to gently caress her outer lips with the device as she leaned back and let out a soft moan.

She had just slid it between her lower lips when Jennette walked in carrying a tray with a pitcher of water on it and a single glass. Jennette set the tray on the nightstand and turned to leave when an idea came to her.

“Wait Jennette, I have something else for you to do…” Eliza said as she smiled and gave her pussy a couple of pats.

“Oh! Oui mademoiselle!” Jennette cried out and crawled on to the bed, burying her face between Eliza’s legs and sticking her ass up in the air at the same time.

Eliza gasped as Jennette’s tongue probed her as it had so many times in the past. Harold had so enjoyed watching his dyed in the wool anti-lesbian ex-wife eating out his new wife that he often had her do it three or four times a week.

Jennette reached down and grabbed the mass of blonde hair between her legs and pushed Jennette harder into her pussy, “Come now Jennette, Harold is not here to watch, there’s no reason to draw it out. Push that tongue in deep and make your mistress cum.”

Jennette mumbled something in return and did as she was told, Eliza threw her head back and let the pleasure wash over her. It didn’t take long for the first of several orgasms to crest and she watched Jennette’s body twitch as she also came.

Eliza so wished that Harold was her to see Jennette between her legs once more, but instead, her mind drifted back to their last night together instead.

Eliza had been on top of him, riding his rigid cock as she straddled him cowgirl style. She’d been exceptionally energetic that night, driven on by the wild look of pleasure in Harold’s eyes. Or at least what she had thought was pleasure, now looking back on it, it was clear it was something else.

She’d felt him release inside of her, his whole body stiffening as he did so and her own orgasm crested. Then, as his body went limp, she watched the life leave his eyes.

In a panic, she’d continued to ride him as hard and as long as she could before she could no longer keep him inside of her. She cried and wailed, beating on his chest for him to wake up, but she knew deep down that there was no point.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’d always know this day would come, sooner rather than later. She’d only been 22 when they had first met, he had been older… much older. Much older than even his ex-wife who now had to be getting close to her late forties.

You couldn’t tell from his appearance, his ageless face and features seemed to be forever stuck in his youth, but he would often talk of things from ‘the old days’ that clearly placed him well past 70.

Eliza reached down and pulled Jennette’s head up from between her legs, “Jennette, go get the strap on, I think it’s time to make sure you’re still well lubed. It’s what Harold would have wanted after all.”

“Oui mademoiselle.” Jennette replied and wiggled her way from the room.

For the moment, the buzzing in Eliza’s pussy had died down and she knew the strap on would help even more. She smiled as the image of Jennette bent over the edge of the bed, her ass up in the air and the strap on buried deep inside of it came to her.

Then something clicked inside of her head. Yes… yes it was what Harold would have wanted. He’d have wanted her to continue on where he had left off with his ex-wife. Having her eat out Eliza, prancing around the house half naked doing the chores, fucking her any which way seemed appropriate at the time.

The dark twisted truth of it chilled Eliza’s heart and a small orgasm came over her, Harold’s final gift to her, and she knew she had found what she would do with the rest of her life. Or at least the rest of Jennette’s.

2 COMMENTS

  1. I like this story because time is conveyed via the identities acquired by Jeanette and Eliza. The narrative doesn’t really have a climax which might be for the best as these two characters seem useful. Perhaps the goth-widow and ex-wife-bimbo could find a new master or mistress together.

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