Her Master's House

The Bathroom Scene - Parts IV-VI/VI

[There is one more chapter to conclude this fic - will update in a few days.]
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PART IV/VI
Jackson tapped his polished shoe slowly on the soft carpet, and leaned back against the sink. His hands in his pockets, his body blocking the running water from her view though the sound bounced off him and grew even more torturous to Lisa. He nodded slowly and tapped his foot and thought. Yes, more was needed. She required more. Then he was turning from her, shucking his shoes and socks and tossing them quickly out the pocket door, before snugging it home again tight. He ducked his hand under the vanity and pulled out two thick terry towels and shoved them in the small space under the door. But, as he stood from this strange work he seemed to forget what he was doing as he looked at her, searching her eyes with his. A distraction was in order…

She watched and shivered as he tugged his belt off in one languid, hissing pull. Jackson bent it double between his powerful hands and gave it a playful snap – to Lisa, it was a gunshot and she jumped on the toilet –unnerved, excited…nearly overcome with emotion and the need for... He popped the leather belt again, smiling, cataloguing her reactions – the jump, her hands clenching on her knees, her nipples jutting anew against her bra under her thin blouse. Distraction accomplished…he would save the rest of this for another time. He tossed the belt past her and into the corner behind the toilet. The buckle slapped Lisa’s ankle as it whizzed by and she felt a small bubble of urine slip from her body and into her panties…it was a form of crying and nearly made her cum with that one moment of teasing release…and her body locked down again. She grunted.

He sneered, “I didn’t know I was buying such a broken toy…you know, I wasn’t teasing, I can send you back.” And, with that he reached behind him and pulled the sink closed, the water gushing and gathering quickly in the basin.

She lifted her pale, drawn face to him, her voice cracking in her dry throat, cramping waves of nausea breaking through her abdomen, “What do you mean?” She wasn’t going anywhere…unless…

Jackson caught the wistful cant to her eyebrows and resisted the urge to smack her again, “Despite my investment, I can put you back where I found you. Drop you back into your old life, Lisa…even in Miami…if that’s what you want.”

Lisa squirmed on the toilet, pushing both hands between her legs and squeezing herself. She wanted to ask about Miami but she knew Jackson better than that. “What do you mean…investment?”

“Ah…thank you. Yes. You should know about that.” She watched his face intently. She knew that quick jerk of his jacket, that jut of his chin…he had done something. Her heart skipped to her Dad…Jackson adjusted his watch on his wrist and laced his hands in front of his hips, “My investment in you, Lisa…in us. I’ve bought your life and your Dad’s and your Mom’s and mine, for that matter. Just like I bought this house, our cars, the groceries.” The water began splashing over the sink and down the cupboard, marking Jackson’s jacket and pants, running into the carpet.

But, Lisa only had eyes for Jackson and she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Here, now, Jackson was jubilant. His eyes were dancing and he was grinning, aching to tell her, not even trying to hide that small gap between those teeth on the side, or snatch that hint of a dimple away before it came to full fruition. He blushed. And, waited.

“Just tell me, Jackson…what?”

He nodded, still grinning, his voice deeply warm as another sort of man would say “I love you” for the first time, “I extinguished the Anomaly.” [*]

Lisa felt her face fall into an “o” and then a sob wrenched through her body. She couldn’t look at him. Her mind raced and her heart beat a staccato solo in her chest…they had taken to calling the Keefe Job, the only job he hadn’t finished, the Anomaly, it had become a private understanding between them…what had he done…could it really be all that bad? She shivered – her body losing control, her mind slipping…it could be…anything…but, inside, she knew and she was already justifying her need for him.

His happy tale continued, as if he did not see her coming apart before him, though she knew he did. “Yep. How’d you think I got on with the new company? My good looks? No No No. ‘Member when I dropped you in Utah? And, you had your little vacation?”

Lisa resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Only Jackson would term living on a fundamentalist Mormon commune a vacation – but she had been safe, she’d given him that, and she had known better than to ask what he had been up to. And, he had come back for her. And, they had landed here in this glorious house. And, Jackson working -organizing a team of some kind.

She nodded, prompting him, sickened and enthralled - trying not to let her eyes fall to his open zipper and the soft curls of hair she knew were peeking out of his pants. Forcing herself to remember Secretary Keefe’s warm blue eyes, his lovely, kind, very blond wife…their smart, beautiful children. The shivers were coming in waves now and she squeezed her clit hard, knowing she was reaching her limit for holding her pee. Dreadingly expectant over what he had to tell her…

Jackson continued gleefully, “Sure. While you played in Utah, I worked. That’s a man’s lot, I guess. I went after him and I did him and his…” He shook his head and waved his hot, murderous hand dismissively, the steam shifting around him like smoke, “Really, the details would only bore you…but, I completed the spirit of that old job, Leese and you’re safe and you’re Dad’s safe and your Mom - whether your with me or not. And, just in case you’re still able to keep count, Leese – that’s four for four. Don’t blame me – it’s very old logic. The big message was sent; the client is satisfied; we’re all safe; life is no longer shit.”

Lisa hadn’t quite caught up with him yet. She stammered, “But, nothing…on the news…”

Jackson rolled his eyes, “Of course, not. You think the Administration wants to let the cat out of the bag? They’ll all have some tragic accident on a return trip from Camp David, fuck if I know. I didn’t do itloud. I did it right.” Jackson shook his head in utter incredulity at the sophomoric absurdity that often marked his work days and continued, “If these fuckingnovices knew a thing about American politics they would’ve done it my way in the first place. But, no…some sheik always thinks he knows best…got Rolex? Got camel? Got oil wells? Sure, yes, of course! Got strategy? Fuck no.”

Lisa moaned low in her throat and Jackson watched her carefully as he felt the carpet grow sopping with the running water. She was bent slightly forward on the commode, sweat twinkling across her face, her auburn-brown hair beginning to stick to her cheeks. Her hands were squeezed tightly between her legs and her bare feet were bent around the toilet’s pedestal as if she were riding a horse. A single, drying tear-track marked her cheek. Her eyes were flame-bright, nearly glassy in their blue-depths, scanning him, then blinking shut, then bearing down upon him again with laser-like intensity. She was shivering and yet, he sensed no fear in her. In fact, was she really seeing him? Her mind was completely closed. It disturbed him. This was supposed to make them closer. He resisted the urge to yank to her knees in front of him.

Jackson crossed his arms on his chest and pressed his knuckles into his elbows. He could feel the rage mounting inside of him…was she judging him? Her, in that ridiculous position, and she was judging him. And, he had saved her life – how many fucking times now? A small voice in the front of his brain called briefly to him, “Don’t be angry, be effective.” He swallowed and quelled his own nagging – like this was time for his own self-help team to show up.

Jackson’s voice rang loudly in the tight, steaming room – his joy and patience severely compromised before her relentless silence, “What’d you think, Leese? That’d I’d let me – us - be lost because of one non-fatal mistake? What’ve you been telling yourself? That I didn’t know how to fix it? That I’m so knee-deep in your pussy that my “inconvenient” line of work would just evaporate? That I have no pride? That I’m not willing to get my hands dirty? Is that what it is, Leese? Because if it is – I’m fucking disappointed. I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type of woman to be attracted to a pathetic failure.”

[*]Wanna see Jackson extinguish the Anomaly? Check out Viv’s short one-shot Reset at fanfiction.net[*]


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PART V/VI
Everything grew still for Lisa then – the room hushed in humid silence despite the onrushing water collecting around the toilet’s base, tortourously washing her feet, calling the urine from her locked bladder. Jackson appeared to be frozen – his mouth slightly open as if he were talking, his hair down across his forehead, his jacket and pants wet from the water falling over the side of the basin. She took him in, like an artist absorbs her fine work – the exquisite detail of him, the hellish safety inherent in his icy gaze, the alabaster bodies of the newly dead piled behind him as if he were statue, painting and narrative in one. Her heart broke then for what she wanted – because it wasn’t good. He wasn’t good. Not in the way the myths said he would be. If her parents knew, her mother would fear for her only child; her father’s soul would split. But, Lisa’s eyes went dark. Her jaw set, she spat her only rebuke, “Don’t. Ever. Say. That. Again.”

The emotion welled in Jackson as the rage slipped from his grasp and his throat tightened. The words he had readied dying there, gasping a cruel death in his larynx, his lungs, his sinuses. Jackson burned and reached for Lisa, briefly crushing her soft, pliable length to him and shoving her against the wall with a brutal kiss. Her hands fought up the length of his body, crushing the silk of his jacket lapels, yanking him against her, answering his kiss with equal ferocity. Jack’s groan reverberated through her, quaking her bladder, quivering her clit.

As if reading his past thought, Lisa slipped away from his lips, dropping to the lake-like floor and ripping his pants fully open. She held him in her hand and stared up into his eyes, silently begging his permission – entreating him to see her as she saw him - perfectly flawed, beyond imagination. Jackson smiled down at her, his lips parted in an unspoken endearment. His thick fingers wrenched into her hair and pulled her onto his cock. She sucked him greedily – as if she had never had him before, relishing in the sea salty sweetness of his thick stuff dripping from the head of his dick and the hot length and girth of him. When she had reached as far as she could, she grunted hard – knowing he would feel the vibration deep in her throat and she felt his legs tremble as he pressed against her body for leverage. His hand twisted against her scalp and she heard his other palm smack the wall as he grunted and swore, murmuring her name.

Jackson let himself really see her then. If to Lisa tonight’s events were a matter of art, then for Jackson they were a matter of sublime technique and in looking at Lisa - there on her knees, on the sopping, running floor - he saw management, murder and mayhem - in each slow toss of her head, in each lean of her shoulders, in each shuddering shiver wracking her body. Jackson’s mind cut loose and for a moment all was red – her hair, her blood on his hand, her lips welted and working along him, her – he had to have her naked. This brought him back from the cruel corner he was riding on rails. Where were her breasts and her scar and her ribs and her thighs and her every inch of precious flesh? They were hidden behind old rules and this last fact brought the fury up in Jackson anew.

He gripped her collar with both hands and yanked her to her feet – her teeth nipping him slightly as her mouth jerked up and off him, water sluicing off her. Jackson shook her and thumped her back against the wall. He took his hands off her and ordered, “Un. Dress. Me.”

Lisa looked dazed but leapt at the opportunity – pressing her foot between his ankles and reaching for him so he could lean and lift his feet out of his pants puddled in the watery carpet. Her hands tugged at his jacket – tossing it behind him –and then at his suit shirt, buttons popping, her small fingers working his cuffs loose, pulling it from him. She was still faced with his undershirt and here she slowed and scooped it in fistfuls from around his hips, up his tight torso, and over his head, off his arms. The white thing slipped from her hand as she leaned against the wall, panting, humming his name…never had he been more golden.

He smirked at her, “Where’s that attention to detail, Lisa?”

She was confused and scanned him – he certainly appeared to be naked, but then her eyes caught sight of his thick watch on his left wrist and her heart skipped – he never removed his watch. She fell to her knees again and kissed its dark face, rotating his arm and slowly unlocking and removing the band over his hand, licking his knuckles as she worked. She held the watch in her palm and looked up at him – his other hand snapped out like a cobra, knocking it out of her hand. It landed with a heavy plunk in the water.

His eyes were luminous, burning with blue-burgundy, and narrow, like a wolf’s, like a caged, wild thing and for the first time that night, Lisa was afraid. She felt herself shrink back, turning towards the wall…He lifted his hand again and she flinched – unable to control herself – yet, he merely pointed at the toilet. She scrambled to it – ready to sacrifice herself across it if he asked – yet she could not urinate.

Jackson’s laughter was brittle, chilling as he turned those brutal red-flecked eyes on her and jabbed his finger into her face, “I’ll send you back. Or, I can keep you. But, if you’re gonna stay with me, you have to choose it. It’s up to you.”

Lisa rocked on the toilet and pressed her feet against the porcelain pedestal, vainly attempting to evade the surging water. A parade of images from her life marched through her head– lacrosse, hospitality management, pledging Tri-Delt, graduation, working the desk at the Lux Atlantic, Jackson at the Tex-Mex taking a call, hiding that blue pen in her skirt, being arrested, her purse sailing out the window into the swamp, Jackson driving away from the rest-area… the fear was an alive thing now, curling within her yet her words were angry, accusatory, “You’d leave me with nothing, you bastard.”


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PART VI/VI
Jackson grunted as her words permeated the growing fog in his head, and his stomach turned-over on itself. She was crazy; no one should be able to take this much. He grabbed her collar and smacked her solidly, bracing her head so it wouldn’t snap around, he wanted her lucid, “What the fuck did you just say to me?” He couldn’t wait for her answer. His hand flashed out, cracking across her welted mouth once again, opening the split spot on the inside of her lip. Her head rocked over onto his forearm and he twitched, annoyed at the velvety, slick feel of her hair caressing him. He snarled, “That mouth will get you in more trouble, Leese…” And, he smacked her again – the sound echoing in the tiny tiled and water-filling room.

Lisa straightened and met his gaze, watching as he showed her the blood on his hand from her mouth. She shoved her hands back inside her panties as he sucked his bloody fingers – he was beyond what was possible and through her desire, for just a moment, she hated him. She choked out the words, “You’d leave me with nothing, Jack – nothing.”

Jackson laughed again, keeping a hold of her collar and yanking one of her hands out of her panties and placing it on his hard cock. Her fingers were wet and hot from squeezing herself. “What kind of monster do you think I am, Leese? If you go, I’d set you up. I have contacts – you’d have a great place, a great job. I wouldn’t waste a bullet on whoever you end up marrying and having brats with…you’d be set. We’d. Be. Done. Mommy’s and Daddy’s best little girl again. That’s what you want, right?”

Lisa swallowed – trying not to throw up – his words pierced her. Not because they were right, but because he thought them plausible while such things no longer mattered to her. Her old dreams were dead and it wasn’t Jackson that had managed it for her. No, she’d done it all by herself.

Jackson hissed, shaking her by the collar, squeezing her hand painfully around his erection, “That’s what you want, right, Leese? Be a good girl again?”

Lisa shook her head, trying to find the words amidst the pain and the pleasure. Her old life would be nothing without him – mean nothing without him. It held no allure with his threatened absence. Lisa shook her head again, whispering, desperately, why couldn’t he understand? “No, Jack…that’s not it…it would be nothing without you…”

His lip curled, his words scathing in their intensity, disgusted he apparently had to spell even this out, “Nice words, Leese. But, you aren’t getting it. If I say I’ll put you back – I mean the spirit of the thing, not a fuck you. Can you understand that or not?”

Lisa could barely speak, “Yes, yes, I get that.”

Jackson sighed deeply, attempting to breathe through his anger, “And, if I say I’ll take care of you, then what do I mean, Leese?”

Lisa moaned low in her throat, “It means you’ll take care of me.”

Jackson felt her palm tighten around his cock and caressed her hand gently; his voice falling to a harsh growl, “And, why is that, Leese?”

Lisa met his blue-stare, her eyes glistening, mouth soft, realizing the full-circle march he’d brought her on and her moment of hate turned to worship, “’Cuz you always do what you say you’re gonna do…”

Jackson let go of her and sank to his knees in the running, pooling water. He knew victory when he saw it and he was not one to gloat, not when it counted. His hands itched to touch her, yet he did not allow himself. All the tension left him and no one but Lisa would’ve guessed that less than a minute ago he’d been raging. Her head was bent once again and he spoke quietly to her shining, sweat-soaked hair, “Yes, Lisa. Yes. That’s right. And, not just your physical safety Leese, not just your parents physical safety – I mean the spirit of the thing Leese, not just the letter.”

Lisa nodded, straightening and reaching for him. He drew away slightly – the curve and slant of his face morose, thunderous; yet his voice rang hollow, expressionless, “So what’s it gonna be, Leese?”

Her words tumbled in a rush, barely audible over the sink’s downpour, “I want you to take care of me.”

Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose in apparent frustration then shrugged at her, “Nice. Words. Leese.” He stood – ready to leave the bathroom and get dressed and vacate this house, leaving her here on this toilet to rot.

But, Lisa’s hands wrapping around his thigh and her soft moaning words paralyzed him, “You’re right.” And, Lisa exhaled and willed herself to prove it. She wanted to do what he had asked – not just when it was easy and pleasurable but when it was at it’s most devastating and perfect. She didn’t think about peeing or Jackson leaving. She thought of the first time she’d had Jackson on his couch in Miami…then in his bed – his hands and lips moving over her in benediction, apology, and desire. She thought of what she had withheld from him then, not understanding what he meant to her – would mean for her. She thought of him when he’d come for her in Utah. The swift, banging urgency of their coupling – again and again – in his car – no words had been necessary. And, now, the ever-present tension that had mounted between them since being in this house pressed around her - their colliding expectations imploding in silence while they hid behind domestic routine and sex. Her parents flashed through her mind but it was a brief piece of heat-lightening – though not dismissing them she placed them differently and well outside this new equation. They were no longer her reference, her definition. That old life was over. She mentally tested this fact and found no grief remaining.

Relief cascaded through her as the intellectual permeated her subconscious – muscles relaxing, hands sliding down Jackson’s leg seemingly without friction, her feet splashing gratefully into the water – and she went. Lisa gasped as her hot urine pooled and welled in her panties before streaming through her skirt to run in a torrent into the toilet.

Jackson watched her in fascination and appreciation. Holy. Shit. She’d done it. Just like that. He had to have her. He bent and lifted her by her shirt collar. It was his turn to pop her blouse buttons as he wrenched at her clothes, ripping the flimsy fabric off her and tearing at her skirt, her panties. Jackson stepped away from her and reached behind him, shutting off the water with a snap of his palm. She appeared other-worldly – almost as if he were looking at her through the screen of the laptop – but this was different. He knew her now…more than he had then, more than he had one mere hour ago. His balls throbbed and with a snarl he clamped his hand on the light switch and snatched her to him as the room collapsed in darkness.

They wrestled to the floor – water dripping and lapping at their bodies in waves as her arms went around him and he unclasped her bra and yanked it from her. They rolled and thumped into the tiled wall. He pinned her there, licking the blood from her lips and meeting her tongue with his as she reached between them to stroke his cock. Jackson smacked her hand away and pressed hard against her, locking her mouth with his, willing her very breath into him as he shoved his chest against her breasts, her nipples taunt and hot against his skin. He ground against her wet snatch feeling her hard, button-like clit but couldn’t get close enough with the right angle of the large base-board and the wall.

He turned them away, pulling her on top of him, pressing her thighs down around his hips with vicious hands. Lisa cried out as she sank onto his cock, his fingers digging into her ass as he raised himself up to meet her. He held her in place while he moved beneath her, the water smacking between their bodies as he drove into her, seemingly oblivious to the force of gravity which should have made it impossible for him to push into her so hard. Lisa cried out again and dropped down across his body, now fighting her own willingness to cum. She had to wait…she had to wait…until he said…Jackson’s hand rushed up her back into the hair at the nape of her neck, the other hand holding tight to her ass, he turned them over one final time in the dark ocean he had created. He pulled her head back, bearing her throat and lifting her breasts tightly against him.

Lisa’s growling groan surged through her, “Jack, please, hold my arms…please…” He pulled his hand from her neck and pressed his forearm up and across her arms stretching over her head and she arched fully in glorious extension. She pressed her head into the stormy, wild water and spread her legs as widely as she could - moving her hips in short, slow but deep twists under him, finding the spot where she needed the head of his cock to work her and not deviating from the magic pattern that made it happen over and over and over again. Jackson braced himself more fully over her, sucking her nipples and very nearly cumming from her change in position, from the way she was giving herself, from the soft, luscious sounds cascading from her lips. He felt a transitory gratefulness: thank God he had snuffed the lights because he knew if he could see her – like this – he may never have the power to leave her. And, he had to keep something for himself.

He could feel the tension and resistance in her hips and knew what it meant for her and for him. If he could wait for her he would be well rewarded – there was nothing like Lisa bringing him off. Noth-ing. His gravelly groan melted in Lisa’s ear, “You’ve done so good, Leese…cum with me.” Her response was intense movement as she brought one of her widely splayed legs up tilting her cunt around his cock. He pressed his wide hand on her thigh, keeping her spread despite the change in angle and her groans and cries turned to barely audible whispers, “Jack…fuuuuck…you’re so good to me…harder…”

And, Jack moved more slowly but harder and groaned against her breast as her cunt began to convulse around him. Lisa moved her wet, lithe body in total abandon beneath him as her orgasm mounted and broke within her. Jackson slammed into her in a rush and Lisa grunted with the full, intense impact of him cumming inside her as her own ecstasy cascaded through her yet again and she could not hear or feel anything but Jackson’s voice and body filling her up and taking her down.