Easter Contest Entry # 1

"Easter with the Hawthornes" by Don Livingston

At just over six foot tall, Jack Robinson towered over the small mahogany desk where he looked over the latest numbers from the market.  For the past eight years, his talent at making predictions as to what stock would go up and down made Hawthorne and Hawthorne filthy rich.  When he glanced at his thick watch, he noticed it was past the time to put the week behind him and enjoy a quiet few days alone in his tiny apartment.

His two hundred and thirty pound frame moved with easy, as he stood and began shuffling reports into his briefcase for some light reading over the weekend.  The sudden opening of the door startled him as he flinched at the intrusion.  What made him even more stressed was that it was none other than Charles Hawthorne himself.

When it came to running a company, there was no one more demanding than Charles Hawthorne.  His medium build and aristocratic demeanor took a commanding presence whenever he stepped into a room.  As his deep brown eyes bore into Jack’s, he displayed a large smile as if trying to calm the employee that showed his startled reaction.

“Sorry for the sudden intrusion Jack, but I thought I’d just pop in for a look see at where you’re making us so much money,” Hawthorne said as he scanned the small room, adorned with various charts and graphs.

Jack shook his head clear as he watched his employer move towards one of the flow charts on Hawthorne and Hawthorne’s competition.  “I see you’re keeping tabs on the Drakes for us.  That’s a wise move Jack; always know what your enemy is doing so you can shove it down his throat later on down the road.”

“Um – yes Sir, I was thinking the same thing,” Jack lied.  His main purpose for the chart was to decide if he should stay in his present position or look for more benefits elsewhere.

Hawthorne turned and moved with confidence towards Jack’s desk, which made Jack even more nervous at the sudden movement.  “So Jack, there I was sitting in my office and it came to me that you have devoted a lot of hours making this company successful.”

“I’m just trying to be part of the team Sir.  I guess I get lucky…”

“Now that’s what I like from you Jack!  Teamwork is the greatest thing someone like me looks for from his employees’ and by God you have it!”  Hawthorne beamed as he slapped the desk hard.

“Yes Sir, I think teamwork plays a big part in…”

“I try to repay some of my more worthy employees’ with a small token of gratitude.  I think you’re one of them Jack, and I want to do something for you.”

Jack Robinson smiled as the wealthy executive reached inside his tailored coat pocket and produced an envelope.  He knew the wait was over and was at last getting the pay and promotion he worked so hard for these past years.  As he reached over and took the envelope, his hands quivered and his mind raced at the thoughts of more money, a bigger office, maybe even his own secretary.

When he had the small white packet open, he pulled out what looked like an invitation.  His thoughts of moving up in the company flew into a dark abyss, as he stared at the gold lettering on the thick cream-colored card.

“I hope you didn’t have plans for this Easter weekend Jack.  The party starts at eight sharp so I expect you to be on time.  Since this is your first time at the mansion, I had my secretary take the liberty of putting the rules on the back.”

Jack tried to remain calm and not throw the invitation back in his face.  “Um – wow, I don’t know what to say Sir.”

“You don’t have to thank me poor boy, just show up at eight, and enjoy your reward.  Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m running late for drinks at the country club,” Hawthorne said with a large smile and then left the office just as he entered it, with superiority.

Jack slumped back down into the old wooden chair and tossed the invitation on the desk.  His hands went to his face, trying to rub the tension from his body at just being snubbed for advancement.  His only reward being a guest at some high society party.

“I bet the Drakes pay their employees’ what their worth, and not just with dinner invitations either,” he thought as he sat up and continued shoving the paperwork into his briefcase with undo force.

He looked down at the fanciful card and shoved it in with even more force.  “I guess the least you can do old 

man is to feed me well, just before I tell you to shove this job up your ass.”

Jack wrenched the leather case up and strode out the door, his glaring expression showed his true feelings as he moved towards the elevator.  His mind wondered towards the various comments from his coworkers.  

They all had a vision on what went on at some of Charles Hawthorne’s parties.  They ranged from the boring high society snobs looking down on the little people, to sadistic human sacrifices of the hired help at the mansion, although none of the people that commented about the party ever attended.

He was about to push the button for the lobby, when a small hand grabbed the door stopped it from closing.  Jack reached out his more muscular hand and held the steel door back, as Cheryl Newsom moved inside.  When her hazel eyes locked with his, she slid to the corner of the small box and lowered her face in a submissive gesture.  She always had a quiet demeanor and very seldom ever spoke to anyone around her.

Jack noticed the large flower print bag she held in front of her waiflike body in a guarded grasp.  To imply she was shy would be an underestimation of the truth; she was more a recluse than anything else.  Very few, if any, knew anything about her except she performed her job without question or complaint, although legal assistants’ had very little to time to complain about anything.

“Calling it a week are you Cheryl?” Jack asked as the doors met and the elevator began its slow decent.

She clutched the bag tighter as her eyes remained looking at the plain black flats she wore.  “Yes,” she muttered.

“Jesus Lady, it’s not like I’m going to rape you here in the elevator,” he thought.  “Any big plans for Easter, or are you just going to rip open the colorful basket Peter Cottontail brings you?”  Cheryl muttered something under her breath, as Jack leaned closer towards her.  This small move caused her to glance up for a fleeting moment before moving farther back into the corner.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that last part Cheryl.”

“I said no,” she replied in a tone just above a whisper.

The way she quivered made Jack think she was praying, if not begging, for the doors to open so she could escape the confines of the make shift trap she found herself in at the moment.  The jolt of the elevator and the chiming of the bell indicated the uncomfortable journey was at an end.  As the doors began to slide open, Cheryl bolted through them before they were fully open.

Jack shook his head in amazement, as he watched they small woman hurry through the other fleeing employees’ in an attempt to leave without further confrontation.  As the beefy man stepped out, someone wrapped their arm around his and pulled him close.  Jack looked over and saw Samantha Fitzgerald smiling back him with a hungered look in her green eyes.

“Hey stud muffin, such great timing on the escape coffins.  I’m headed to the bar just around the corner and I could use an escort.  I wouldn’t want to get molested on my way there; on second thought, maybe I would,” she said as she gazed at him like a starving predator.

Samantha Fitzgerald was well known in the company.  Her sexual exploits were something of company lore as she tried, and succeeded in most cases, to bed anything with a cock, although that wasn’t always the case.  Once she found someone she wanted, he or she seldom lasted long without giving into her demands for unconstrained sex.

He remembered one of his friends telling him about the night he spent with her.  He said in no uncertain terms, that her small waist and palm sized breasts were an added attraction to the tightness of her sex starved openings.  To bed her was like bedding a porn star on speed; she couldn’t get enough.

“As tempting as that sounds Sam, my parents are due at the airport in an hour and I told them I’d pick them up,” he lied as he tried to pull his arm free.

“Then I’ll go with you and keep you company.  I can make it an hour you’ll never forget,” she replied as she ran her wet tongue across her ruby red lips.

“I bet you could Sam, but Mom and Dad have a lot of bags and I wouldn’t to meet them while having a heart attack.”

Sam pulled his arm hard and turned him towards her.  She pulled his crotch against her body and gazed up at him.  “Fine, but just so you understand something.  One of these nights, I AM going to fuck you senseless, in every way possible, and then leave you drained until you can’t shoot any more hot cum into my body.”

Jack smiled back and pushed her away.  “Now that is something I can think about all weekend.  I’ll see you on Monday and we can discuss it further after my mom and dad leave.”

With great effort, Jack made it out of the building without any more trouble from the company slut.  After hailing a cab, he climbed in and tossed his briefcase down on the floor.  It turned out to be a long week, and the stress became extended, as he pictured a group of violinists’ playing boring music while every snob in the city sipped tea with their pinky extended.

**********

There was a light sprinkling of snow coming down, as Jack maneuvered his white intrepid up the long drive.  Noticing the types of cars and limousines’ lining the drive, he began to wonder if he even had to tell Hawthorne his was quitting; the party might save him the trouble and bore him to death.

As he reached the end of the drive, he saw a young man step out into the middle and hold his hand up.  Jack put the car in park and rolled down his window, as the man approached the driver’s door.

“Good evening Sir.  May I please see your invitation?” the young man asked.

Jack reached over and retrieved the elegant card and handed it to the valet, then turned his head and studied the front of the massive building.  You couldn’t call it a house due to its sheer size, but yet a five star hotel was only slightly bigger.  Jack laughed to himself at the possibility of getting lost in the Hawthorne mansion.

His thoughts faded away as the voice of the valet snapped him back to reality.  “Thank you very much Mr. Robinson.  I see from your invitation that this is your first time at the mansion.”

“Um – yes it is.  I’m sorry I seem a bit confused at what to do,” Jack replied with a quick look around.  

“Where do you want me to park?”

“Leave it to me Sir; I’ll take good care of it for you.  When you’re ready to leave, just let the valet inside know and I’ll have it waiting for you.  Enjoy your evening and please show your invitation to the door man.”

Jack stepped out into the cold air, as the small flakes drifted down on his black overcoat.  As his car pulled away, he made his way toward the massive front door.  He looked up and judged it was at least twelve feet high and each door had to be seven feet wide.

Then he spotted a husky middle-aged man step out from behind a small wall.  Even though Jack was a well sized man, the guard made him look trivial in comparison.  When the guard smiled, it seemed as if it was strained, like it was difficult to accomplish the small task.

“Good evening Sir.  May I help you?”

“Um – sure, I was told to give you this.  I’m not sure what to do next, so if you could…”

“This is your first time Mr. Robinson; do you remember reading the rules Sir?” he said a little too gruff.

Jack’s mind flashed to the back of the invitation.  The rules were simple enough to understand.  An Easter mask of any size and shape, casual attire, and an open mind, then he remembered the last rule in rather bolder writing.  Under no circumstances will any information be made public outside of the mansion.  Failure to abide by the last rule after the evening will be met with swift recourse.

“Yeah, I got it.  Sort of a, what goes on inside, stays inside kind of party.  You wouldn’t mind giving a guy a preview of what I can expect tonight would you?”

“I’m sorry Mr. Robinson; I have no idea what you’re talking about.  Please enjoy your evening, and I would advise you to put on your mask before entering,” the burly guard said as he approached the large door.

Jack slipped the white fuzzy rabbit mask on, and he laughed a bit on how ridiculous he must look.  As the door opened, Jack thanked the guard and entered a large foyer.  The door shut behind him with boom that seemed to echo throughout the well decorated room.  He looked up at the huge chandelier that hung from the cathedral ceiling.  “Must be nice to have money,” he whispered.

The sound of a string guitar snapped him out of his daze and he thought it was impossible for Charles Hawthorne to be playing ZZ Top at Easter party, or any party for that matter.  Jack went left towards the music, and almost crashed into an attractive young woman carrying a try of champagne flutes.  With practiced ease, she controlled the sterling silver tray, and held it out towards him.

“My apologies Sir, would you care for something to drink?”  Her young voice seemed to dance through his ears, as her bright blue eyes sparkled in the light.

“Yes, thank you,” he replied as he picked up one of the flutes.  “I’m Jack Robinson.  This is my first time here, so if you could direct me to Mr. Hawthorne I’d appreciate it.”

“Yes Sir, he’s in the other room just behind you.  I’m Mindy and if there’s anything you require, just look for me.”  The smile and the tone of her voice told him all he wanted to know about young Mindy.

Jack walked into what looked like a living room, but was the size of a convention hall.  With everyone wearing masks, it was hard to make out who was who among the guests.  He wondered through the mix of men and women, his eyes searching the room for a man the fit the build of Charles Hawthorne.

As he spotted a man he thought was his boss, he felt a delicate touch of a female hand on his groin.  Jack’s head snapped to the side and noticed a mature woman in her fifties smiling back at him.  Her silver hair accented parts of her tan face that wasn’t covered with the small bunny mask.

“By the way you keep searching the room you handsome man, you must be Jack Robinson; I’m Charlotte Hawthorne.  I’ve heard so much about you from Charles, and the fact that you’re attending one of our parties, means that you’re very capable.”  The last statement made him nervous as she gazed down at her hand still on his filling member.

“Um – I mean no disrespect Mrs. Hawthorne, but do you think it’s wise to fondle me while your husband is in the room?” Jack replied as he moved her hand.

“Oh you’re in for a wonderful evening Jack.  I think you and Charles should talk before the party really gets going.”  Charlotte waved her hand and got her husband’s attention.  He excused himself away from a petite blond with waist length hair, and made his way over.

“Jack, Jack, Jack, welcome to the house dear boy.  I take it you’ve met my adorable wife?”

“Yes Sir, we were just talking about…” Jack started to say but Charlotte cut him off.

“He thinks you’ll get mad if I grab his cock here in front of everyone.  You should show him around and inform him of the parties,” she said, then kissed his cheek and wondered off into the small crowd.

Charles Hawthorne grabbed Jack’s arm with a light touch and led him out of the room and down a hall.  He pointed out the various rooms and one of the libraries that made up the down stairs of the mansion.  When they reached the kitchen, Jack looked on in awe.  Not because of its sheer size that looked more than capable of feeding a small army, but the man dressed up as a yellow marshmallow peep.

The strange costume seemed appropriate for an Easter party.  The fact he was seated on top of a long wooden counter top with the front of his costume open as the young server Mindy went down on him was startling.

Charles’s happy voice broke his trance, as he watched Mindy speed up her erotic actions.  “Bart, how’s it going?  Enjoying the party so far?” Charles asked as he stepped forward and picked up a full champagne flute.

“Hell yes Chuck, I wouldn’t miss a party for all the money on Wall Street,” he replied as he placed his hand on the back of Mindy’s head and held her down.

Hawthorne turned to look at Jack’s reaction.  He released a short laugh and grabbed the new comer’s arm again, leading him out and towards another room.  When Jack followed his boss into the den, Hawthorne pointed to a large leather chair and then sat behind his desk.

Jack sipped at the champagne as he tried to wrap his mind around what he just witnessed in the kitchen.  He was unsure of what to say as he thought about putting his drink down and running out of the strange home of his employer.

“I could have told you about the parties Jack, but through the years I’ve found it saves time by just showing the new comers.  When I first gave you the invitation, you thought it was a pay increase didn’t you?” Hawthorne asked.

“Um – well to be upfront with you – yes.  I believe my work speaks for itself and I thought I was being compensated for that.”

“Is that what you wanted, more money?  Hell Jack, I could double your salary and it still wouldn’t be fair to you.  What I can do is give you nights you will never forget.  Young Mindy in the kitchen is just a small sample at what goes on at my parties.  If you decide to stay, the women in this house will pretty much do anything you might be into, and then some.”

“So all this time you’ve just been having sex parties?” Jack asked, still confused.

“Ah yes, the rumors of what goes on here.  Is the most popular one still the human sacrifice of the staff?”

“Um – I guess so Sir.”

“When we’re out of the office it’s either Charles, Chuck or Charlie.”

“Okay, Chuck, mind if I ask what all the secrecy is for?” Jack asked as he downed his drink.

“Most of the people here are from one of the offices, others are dear friends of ours.  They all have some sort of fetish when it comes to sex and if that ever got out, it could jeopardize what they’ve worked for.”

“So if I said thanks but no thanks, you wouldn’t be offended?”

“Hell no Jack, but give it an hour before you run away.  If you do leave, I would hate to see what would happen if any information found its way out of the mansion.  You’re a very bright individual, so I think you understand what I’m saying.”

“I get your point.  I’ll stick around for an hour, but if I decide to leave I’ll let you know first.  Fair enough?” Jack said as he stood up.

Charles stood up and went over to the man who helped make his company successful.  “Deal, but my wife may rape you before that hour’s up,” he said with a laugh and shook his hand.

**********

The party was going strong and Jack just finished his fifth glass of champagne.  He had now been there for over an hour and he lost count of how many times a female with a bunny mask groped him.  They ranged for their early twenties to much older women.  One in particular, wore a playboy bunny costume who appeared to be someone’s grandmother looking for a much younger boy toy for the evening.

He was starting to feel the effects of the expensive champagne, so he went in search of some food.  As he entered a smaller room, he saw a long buffet table packed with every conceivable type of food.  Salad, fish, steak, bread, all spread out in a type of fend for yourself layout.  Mixed in between the large dishes; jellybeans, eggs of all colors, all topped off with a four foot chocolate Easter Bunny in the center.

He walked up and stood beside the longhaired blond he’d seen early with Hawthorne.  As she placed some oysters and shrimp on her plate, she turned her head and locked eyes with Jack.  She wore a black felt mask that wrapped around her cheeks, the long floppy ears dangled along the sides of what appeared to be a beautiful face.  The thing that took him by surprise was the bright emerald green eyes that seemed to bore into his soul.

He lowered his stare and took in the black skintight jumpsuit she wore, which left little to the imagination on what lay underneath.  Her large nipples seemed to be straining the fabric in an attempt to break free.  Then it dawned on him; green eyes, killer body, slutty demeanor; it could only be one person, Samantha Fitzgerald with a wig.  After all the drinks and groping, his hard member was now doing the thinking.

“Enjoying the party so far?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“Seems fun enough I guess, I mean who doesn’t like a party where sex is used as a condiment,” Jack replied as he put some cut vegetables on his plate.

“Nice to see you finally got invited Jack?”

The fact that she knew who he was solidified the hunch that it was the company slut, Sam.  Even though he rebuked her advances before, Jack realized that no mention of tapping into her charms would ever leave the mansion.

“Um – yeah, I guess you could say I’m the virgin in the room.”

She moved a step closer as her eyes moved over his body.  “Hmmmm.  I like the way you say virgin; it makes me want to drag you into a room and pop that cherry for you.”

Knowing she was always this forward, made the remark seem pointless in an attempt to sound seductive.  

“I’ve been drinking champagne all night, and I should get something to eat first before I start…”

Sam grabbed his arm hard, as she tossed her plate back down on the table.  “Screw the fucking food Jack, eat me instead,” she said in a forceful tone.

She threw open a nearby door and slung him inside as the vegetables went flying to the side.  When she turned the lights on, Jack saw he was in a small office.  There were some aprons and work schedules hanging on the paneled walls and he knew this must be the staff office.

The temptress walked towards him while peeling the zipper down.  “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to fuck your brains out.”

“Yeah well, I’m getting tired of turning you down,” he replied as he began pulling his pants down.

Jack leaned against the desk as she knelt down and took him deep into her mouth.  He tossed his head back as the warmth engulfed him.  His friend Bill told him how talented she was, and he wasn’t exaggerating on her ability.  She bobbed up and down while making small choking noises, which sent minor vibrations through the sensitive tip of his pulsing manhood.

“Jesus, you sure know how to give head you little…”  Jack stopped himself as his body fought for control.

The young woman stood up and stroked the now slick member.  “Go ahead, say it, tell me what kind of woman I am.  You sure appear man enough,” she said as pulled on the eight inches on hard muscle.

Jack grabbed her shoulders hard and glared at her.  “I know what kind of woman you are.  You’re a fucking slut that will screw anything with two legs.  I’ll even bet you don’t care if it’s male or female.”

Her face took on an evil glare as she grabbed his arm and shoved him towards a small couch.  Due to his pants being around his ankles, he tripped and fell down heavy on the leather cushion.

Jack could only look on as he watched her sway back and forth like the possessed woman was stalking her prey.  “I see you have a very hard cock there Jack.  I guess the champagne is working.”

“Yeah, the problem is after you’re done no one else will get any use out of it; consider yourself lucky.”

She waived a finger at him as she straddled his waist.  “I wouldn’t let that worry you stud, the old man spikes the drinks with Viagra.  Now about that cherry of yours.”

With one hand holding his stiff member and the other on his muscular shoulder, the devil incarnate slammed herself down and took him deep within her body.  They tossed their heads back as the heat from the mating overtook them.  She allowed herself just a brief moment to get accustomed to the girth, then rocked her hips as she lowered her blazing green eyes to his.

“I knew it feel this good; I just didn’t think it was that fucking big.”

“God, you’re so damn…”

She thrust her lips forward and silenced Jack, as her snake like tongue commanded battle from his.  The woman was demanding as she grabbed his hair, trying to force his mouth closer as her hips pumped back faster.  When she felt his pulsing cock grow bigger, she knew her prize was near.  She moved her free hand down to his nipple.  When she felt the hard bud, she flicked it for a moment, then rolled it painfully between her slender fingers.  Jack couldn’t take the splendid torture anymore, and exploded rope after rope of hot scalding cream deep into her tightness.  The falling liquid from her shaven womanhood soon joined the vibrations against his lips from her scream.

Monday morning, a little after 8:00 am.

Jack Robinson entered the lobby at Hawthorne and Hawthorne.  His body still sore and abused from the all-night party at the mansion.  Most of the evening after the episode with Sam in the office was a blur.  He groaned aloud as the image of the older woman in the playboy costume kneeling between his legs at the end of the night entered his mind.

As he stepped into the elevator, a few other people that had the same tired expression on their faces joined him, although he knew it wasn’t from the same type of weekend as his.  One of them reached out and held the door as Cheryl Newsom scurried inside.  With it being full, she seemed to squeeze her large bag tighter against her as she dreaded being inside the small box with others.

Jack leaned over, attempting to calm her down before she fainted.  “How was your weekend Cheryl?  Did the Easter Bunny bring you anything good?”

She mumbled something he couldn’t make out and Jack just leaned back, leaving her to fret in piece.  The small ding announced their arrival on the eighth floor and the doors began to slide open.  When there was just enough room to exit, Cheryl bolted for the hallway.  What she wasn’t planning on doing was smashing into an intern carrying a large stack of papers.

The others walked around the mess, as Jack knelt down to take pity on the panic ridden girl.  As he picked up some of the papers for the intern, he gasped in shock.  There on the floor next to a small clear case with green contact lenses, lay a black felt bunny mask.  The long floppy ears were unmistakable as he picked it up and stared with amazement at the blushing Cheryl Newsom.

She smiled at him, and then placed her delicate finger against her lips.  “Remember the rules, Mr. Robinson.  I also wouldn’t make any plans for Memorial Day weekend,” she said with a wink and then placed the mask inside her bag.