"And this was my Nero," he laid one last photograph on top of the pile on the little end table. "Royal Benson's Black Nero, my first dog… not my best, but I owe him much for it was his devotion to my deceased wife who caused me to begin the small breeding business ten years ago which lead to the Benson Kennels and a rather sizable income."
Carolyn smiled and tried to concentrate on the photo of the big black Dane. It was so warm in her room. It was making her sleepy, terribly sleepy. She yawned and was immediately embarrassed.
"Oh, forgive me, Mr. Benson," she apologized, "I love to look at your dogs, really I do, I can't understand why I'm so sleepy all of a sudden."
"Quite understandable, my dear," Jason Benson stood up, a secretive smile touching the corners of his mouth. "You must forgive me for not allowing you to rest on your first night with us. And do sleep in tomorrow morning, it's Sunday, you know, and the kennels will be closed to all." He gathered up the stack of photographs, wished her good sleep, and quietly closed the door as he left.
Carolyn leaned back in her chair and yawned. She was so sleepy, so tired. She would rest here just a moment or two, then crawl into the big inviting bed. So tired. She closed her eyes. So tired it felt like her body was spinning, spinning. Suddenly her head fell limply back against the chair… the near empty mug of cocoa slipping from her lax fingers. It made a soft rattle as it rolled under the edge of her chair, leaving a narrow dark streak of chocolate across the blue carpet.
CHAPTER TWO
From a room across the patio, Jason Benson watched Carolyn succumb to the effects of the tasteless drug which he had stirred into the hot cocoa. Now, if she turned out to be a good subject for hypnosis as well, the Royal Benson dogs would have a new mistress. Jason had already waited too long. The dogs were restless. But it was difficult to find a pretty girl with no family or friends, no one to wonder what happened when she dropped out of sight. Of course, there had been a few – coarse, plain women that no one wanted, no one would miss – but Jason preferred to mix business with pleasure. Perhaps the dogs didn't mind a plain mistress but Jason found the training sessions more stimulating when the bitches were attractive. He studied the still figure of the unconscious girl in the lighted window across the patio. Yes, she was very attractive. He smiled in anticipation. This was going to be a pleasant season. He was sure of that.
"I'll get the girl ready," Jason said quietly to his assistant. "You bring your camera equipment… and hurry. We don't want the effects of the drug to wear off before we have arranged for insurance."
Without waiting for a reply, Jason hurried from the room. Mario stayed by the window a moment longer, staring at the limp figure of the girl. His face was passive. His hands strayed now and again to his crotch to rub the head of the sleeping beast which lay there.
Mario bumped the door open with his knees. His hands were full of light standards, cameras and two cases of film. Jason jerked around at the sound of the door banging against the wall and frowned.
"F'God sakes, try to be a little more quiet, Mario."
"Hell, boss, she's out like a light."
"That may be, my young friend, but let's not take unnecessary chances, eh?" There were times when Jason Benson would like to have taken the plaited dog whip which hung in the exercise room and which could raise bloody welts each time it laid across the skin, to Mario Serge but he needed him. He needed someone to help… and Mario's perverted sexuality made him perfect for the job. It took patience sometimes, like today, when Mario's anticipation overrode his good sense. He smiled to hide his feelings. "In an hour or so, we will be finished. And then…"
Jason left the sentence hanging, deliciously dangling before Mario's growing desire like a carrot before a hungry ass. Mario's eyes glittered and the bulge in his tight pants grew larger and more noticeable. He began scurrying quietly around the room, setting up the light poles around the center island bed. Jason smiled faintly. The young man had the insatiability of a sailor and the mind of a child. He could be led around by the prick. Jason shook his head tolerantly, then began his own preparations. From the big cedar chest at the foot of the bed he took a rich blue velvet spread and carefully arranged it on the bed. He glanced at the motionless girl, at her flawless pale ivoried skin… yes, the color would be perfect. He walked to the movie camera on its sturdy tripod and sighted through the viewer. He pursed his lips, looked up over the camera, then through the view finder once more. "Mario…"
"Uhmmm?" He was having trouble with the height adjustment on one of the lights.
"Move the first two lights on the other side of the bed. I can see them in the viewer."
"Okay, but you won't get good lighting on her butt without any floods behind her." Mario growled.
"You're probably right," Jason agreed reluctantly, "but we don't want the bloody light pole showing in the pictures either."
"How about moving that screen behind the bed," Mario suggested, "then I could put the light poles behind it and we'd still get the effect?"
"Good, good." Jason sighted through the camera, nodding his head as Mario made the suggested changes. "There… there, that's it. That's fine!"
He raised up from the camera and grinned at his assistant. "And now the girl…" he said.
Carolyn had not moved since the drug had taken effect. She lay limply relaxed in the big overstuffed easy chair facing the courtyard window. Jason walked quietly over to her and sat on the ottoman at her feet. He began talking to her softly… very softly.
"You are very tired. Very, very tired. You are asleep, Carolyn Vance, sound asleep. You haven't been able to sleep for days and now you are sound asleep." His voice droned on, toneless and void of all inflection. "As you're becoming deeper and deeper asleep, your breathing will become deeper too. Deep, deep from the bottom of your lungs. Breathe deep, Carolyn, deep, deep."
The sound of her breath was audible in the room now, her chest expanding and contracting with each breath. Jason could hear the air rushing between her lips as she inhaled. He looked up at Mario and winked. Mario nodded solemnly.
"You must sleep deeply, Carolyn, and then you will feel wonderful. You will feel just wonderful. Deep, Carolyn, a deep, deep sleep." Jason picked up one limp hand and began stroking it lightly with his fingers. "Imagine you are in a cave, a deep, dark quiet cave, Carolyn. There are steps in this cave, nice, wide, safe, steps carved out of stone and they go down. Down, down, down into the cool dark cave. It's quiet down there, Carolyn, peaceful and quiet. If you could only walk down those steps and into the quiet depths of the cave, Carolyn, everything would be wonderful again."
Jason looked at the wide-eyed Mario and jerked his head toward the box on the table. Mario nodded. Jason continued to stroke her hand softly, regularly.
"We are going down those steps together, Carolyn, into the quiet peaceful darkness. You can hear our footsteps as we go deep, deep down into the darkness." He nodded to Mario, who stood waiting with a flat piece of marble in one hand and a small rubber headed mallet in the other. At his nod, Mario began tapping on the marble, holding it lightly by one end so not to dull the resonant sound of the mallet. "Down, down, down into the cool darkness, Carolyn, deep, deep, deep into the cave of your mind. Hear the footsteps as we walk down, Carolyn, deep, deep, deep."
The hand he stroked suddenly became even more limp, it was like a boneless mass of flesh that wanted to melt and slip from his grasp. Jason smiled. He studied the heavy pulse at the base of her throat. It was pulsing with heavy, even throbs. He lifted Carolyn's hand and dropped it on to her lap. There was no reaction. He looked at her from beneath his heavy half-closed lids and smiled. This one was a fine subject, she would perform well for their cameras… and once her performance was recorded on film, he would give her to his dogs, his fine canine progeny, his boys.