Perfect Crime
Epilogue
Waking up, I found my hand still firmly pressed on Laura’s bubble butt. My first slave, and ittedly my favorite one, had slept naked next to me after a particularly wild night. In the beautiful beach house Whitworth’s money bought me six months ago, Laura is the queen of the master bedroom: from morning until night, she spends the whole day trying on different sets of lingerie I’ve bought her and sending me risqué selfies, or standing by the door, until an outfit clicks with me and I decide to use her.
Whereas the fucks with my other five slaves are out of lust or even out of spite, with Laura, it’s an act of true love. However, standing up in my bedroom and noticing an exhausted Anne sprawled out on the floor, her skimpy black dress crumpled around her midriff, tells a different story. “Come on, Anne, time to wake up and do your topless yoga by the pool,” I tell her as I grope and knead her incredible tits. As soon as she realizes it’s her Master ordering her, she’s startled awake and runs off to wear something more appropriate.
Walking out of the bedroom, I realize it’s the six-month anniversary since our escape, judging by how good Monica’s breakfast smells. The model was the only one with a man waiting for her back home—well, unless Davenport was stupid enough to expect the woman that pointed a knife at his throat to return. For that reason, in a worst-case scenario where I’m captured and my slaves are repatriated, I wanted to deny her ex even the slightest victory at the eleventh hour. Upon arriving here, I had Monica’s mind and memories properly wiped clean with the help of my new screens. The only thoughts left inside her empty head are how to please a man, and an entire’s cookbook worth of recipes.
Today, for example, she’s preparing an extravagant dish of pancakes covered in syrup and ice cream to celebrate our escape. Of course, as far as she’s concerned, she’s always been my slave, but it doesn’t stop her from preparing the meal in nothing but her underwear and a frilly apron too small even for her petite body. I press my body against her back, stuffing two fingers inside her pussy and ordering her to suck them clean. She obeys without question.
As I enjoy my breakfast, I get to watch Anne’s curvy body stretch outdoors, all the while Monica gives me a back massage. I typically don’t have breakfast with my slaves—they wake up much earlier to prepare everything for me, and their diet is far more strict to keep them in perfect shape.
Heading out of the kitchen, I am met with the sight of Samantha and her incredible rack in just her translucent underwear. She stays silent as she holds a clothes rack; allow me to explain. As Samantha was a trophy wife in her previous life, I found it fitting to make her my trophy wife as well. A literal trophy. Possessing no extraordinary gifts but her natural ones, her daily duty is for Master to select a sexy outfit for her to wear and dictate a pose to hold for the rest of the day. Today, for example, I pick out a black corset, barely enough to restrain her massive chest, and knee-high leather boots for her to display as she stands stock still. Whether I will fall to her temptation and fuck her, or let her stand there until nightfall in the hopes of being useful, is up to me.
Once Samantha receives her assignment, I turn on my phone and make a quick transfer of funds from Whitworth’s bank to mine. Anne is understandably one of my most useful slaves, once a millionaire before she moved her entire wealth to shell s ran by me. Here in Mexico, all traces of a fierce businesswoman are gone: she is just as brainless as the rest of her harem, and she likes to ‘warm me up’ before I go to bed with Laura. As I head outside and drop my shorts, Anne doesn’t need orders. She knows that she must follow the commands I once jokingly gave her: every time I withdraw money from her fortune, she is obliged to get on her knees and suck my dick dry, all the while thanking me for lifting the burden of wealth from a dumb slut like her. It’s hard to make out the details as she wraps her lips around my cock and I place my guiding hand on her head, but I already know her mantra by heart. I’m the one who put it there.
As I finish inside Anne’s mouth, and she swallows with satisfaction to have completed her duty as my blowjob queen, I I’m late to my morning briefing with Julia. If I was to maintain my privacy and well-being in this isolated corner of the Pacific coast, a security guard was necessary. Selecting Julia Ashford for the position was a no-brainer, thanks to the former agent’s excellent combat training and years of experience, that would allow her to take care of any intruders with her handgun, or even her fists if necessary.
Approaching Julia at my home’s entrance, she gives me a stern look for being late. She’s the only slave who’s allowed some free will in this harem, as she’s responsible for keeping me safe and I know all too well what happens when a leader surrounds himself with yes-men. However, she all but forgets about my tardiness when I activate her secret trigger: two claps, and her entire body is shaking from an uncontrollable orgasm. “You wanted something?” I ask as she’s done writhing.
“I… wanted… ahhh… wanted to tell you everything’s fine so far, Master. No suspicious moves around the house, Sir.” Julia is constantly patrolling the outskirts of my estate, wearing the necessary attire not to be worn down by the heat: a thin white crop top and a pair of black spandex shorts. My detractors may claim that high heels are impractical for walking miles of unpaved paths every day. However, neither have they seen the wonderful things Julia’s pumps do to her ass and legs as she walks back and forth, nor can they pound her in any position at the snap of their fingers. So what do they know?
Ashley walks into the house right as I succumb to Julia’s beauty and bend her over the nearest couch. My former co-worker had to spend almost six weeks evading the law with the help of my good friend Oversight, but she eventually made it across the border. Now, she’s my ‘errand girl’, the only one to maintain with the outside world so she can buy supplies or withdraw more funds from the nearby town. To everyone else, she’s just a normal American going about her day, but the instant she walks through the door on her return, she’s been conditioned to drop her clothes and drop her IQ by about fifty points. She’s now a mindless slave like the rest, but even she notices the security gap left by me fucking my bodyguard. “Should I stand in for Julia, Master?” she asks me like usual, and I nod approvingly as I pull the blonde’s spandex shorts down. Ashley picks up the handgun from the coffee table and heads out for patrol.
Julia’s already hot and wet from her morning patrol, so fucking her pussy has me feeling like I’m in heaven. I can barely make out Samantha standing still in the living room, and in my head I’m already planning for tonight’s celebratory orgy. This is the life, I think to myself, and Julia makes a moan so loud, it’s almost like she read my mind and agreed.