The House on Wilshire Road

Jasmine opened the invitation she held clutched in her hand eagerly. She had been waiting on it for a week, knowing it was coming but not what was inside. Bruce would give her no clues but told her she would be surprised. She read through it slowly,

You are Cordially Invited to a Halloween Costume Ball

When: Saturday, October 30, 2004

Time: 8:00 p.m.

Where: The old, abandoned house on Wilshire Road

Come dressed in your costume. Don't be late!

Jasmine's heart plunged to her stomach when she read where the party was being held. The Wilshire Road house, the "haunted house" as so many referred to it. She knew it was only made up stories that were told to kids to keep them from playing in the decrepit old place, to keep them from getting hurt. She had heard the stories growing up many times and had never gone to the house as a kid or even now as an adult. She was a very superstitious woman and had heeded the warnings all her life, but now, now she was faced with her worst irrational fear. She would have to go to the house, actually go inside of the legendary "Haunted House of Wilshire Road".

The house was said to have been owned by a mean spirited man back in the early 1800's. It is said that he was a womanizer. That he kept many mistresses, some of who disappeared without a trace when they had tried to break off the relationship. Lore tells that he had killed them, that they were buried in the walls of the house itself as well as the surrounding grounds of the estate. The story that was told to children was that his dark, evil spirit still dwelled in the house. That he walks the rooms of the place looking for his wife who had went mad because of the murders of his mistresses.

It is also said that she was made to help him get rid of the bodies and that on October 31st, 1804 she killed her husband, chopped him into pieces with an axe and burned the pieces in the fireplace. And on every October 31st since, the restless spirits of the woman he killed can be seen dancing in the great ballroom as if celebrating the death of their cruel master.

Jasmine's heart was pounding wildly, her palms were sweaty, and her face was pale as a ghost. How appropriate that analogy...pale as a ghost.

Trying to put the thought of the old house out of her mind she turned her attention to the package that the invitation had been attached to. Long, rectangular and wrapped in plain brown paper. She studied the box for a few moments, turning it this way and that, shaking it and listening for any clue as to what might be inside. Finally, her curiosity getting the better of her, she ripped the paper away quickly and tossed the lid aside hastily. She gasped at what she saw inside. Bruce, her boyfriend, had thought of everything. He had picked out her costume, a deep red velvet ball gown. It was trimmed with black lace around the low scooping neck and had sheer black/red sleeves that were speckled with silver glitter. A masquerade mask was included in the package, black with red and silver glitter and a dainty pair of silver shoes. She held up a pair of fishnet stockings and smiled.

When she lifted the dress out of the box to get a better look at it she found a small plastic bag in the bottom. It contained all of the things she would need aside from the clothes, blood red lipstick and nail polish, other makeup, and a set of beautiful silver pins for her hair. She ran her fingers lazily over the bag of items; she was amazed at how he had thought of even the smallest details.

Shortly before eight p.m. Jasmine pulled into the long winding lane that led to the Wilshire Road house. She was nervous, about as nervous as she had ever been in her life. Her pulse beat violently in her head, her palms were slick with sweat, her skin was cool and clammy. Her stomach was doing somersaults when it wasn't sinking to her knees. She couldn't believe she had come here, that she never tried to back out of the invitation even once in the past week.

The headlights of her car lit the winding dirt road lined with overgrown bushes and trees that looked as though they were reaching for her. She crept along slowly, dodging potholes that looked as if they'd swallow her little Ford Festiva. Her eyes darted from one side of the road to the other, like she was expecting someone, or something to come lumbering out of the thick copse of trees at any moment.

Jasmine hit the brakes; suddenly she was looking up at the towering, ominous looking front gate that seemed to have materialized right before her. It was in surprisingly good shape, the wrought iron looked almost new instead of over 200 years old. She noticed the initials that were on the gate, M B, made of twisted iron, they seemed familiar to her but she couldn't place why. Just past the gate the house caught her attention, it looked so well kept, nothing like she had imagined it would. In her mind she was expecting to see a place with boards hanging half off the outside walls, vines creeping up and over the windows, rickety stairs and broken shutters that banged into the walls in the wind.

She had started to relax a little when the house didn't meet her expectations. The house that was in front of her didn't conjure images of evil or wicked Masters; it could have just as easily been a historical manor open to tourist. She sat there taking in all the beauty of the house when the creaking of the iron gates startled her back to reality. They were opening to let her pass... but how? There was no one here to open them. Surely they weren't on some kind of sensor, which would be to modern for such an old place and besides who would put sensors on an abandoned house? "Bruce", she said aloud, he had thought of everything else for her for that night, why not put automatic openers on the gates. Bruce, after six months he was still as much a mystery to her as he was the first time they met. Yet she had fallen head over heals for him in no time.

Jasmine moved forward, slowly guiding her car around the fountain that still sat in splendid glory only feet away from the door. Turning off the ignition she gave herself a once over in the rearview mirror and smoothed back her hair before fixing her mask over her eyes. Just as she was reaching for the handle to get out, the door opened for her. She screamed, looking up into the fathomless black eyes of a man she'd never seen before. She was paralyzed with fear, unable to speak although her mind raced with a million questions. Where had he come from? She didn't see anyone walk in front of the car and she would have surely seen anyone who had walked behind it while she looked in the rearview mirror. Who was he? What was he going to do to her? Why was he here?

"Good evening Mistress Jasmine. Master Billings is waiting for you in the parlor"; his voice was low and deep, almost monotone. "Canterbury, the butler, will meet you in the foyer and show you the way".

Mistress Jasmine? Master Billings? Who spoke like that now - a - days, Jasmine thought. A butler? "Bruce sure was going all out to make this feel like the real thing", she mumbled as she climbed the steps to the door. When she reached the large wooden door she looked back over her shoulder. The eerie man that had helped her from her car was gone, like he'd vanished into thin air, just as he had appeared.

Jasmine opened the door slowly, peering around it, looking inside cautiously. The old wood cracked on its hinges as she pushed it wider, the sound echoed in the cavern of the foyer as well as in her ears. She stepped just inside; holding the door open, ready to sprint back to her car if the need should present itself. She looked around forCanterbury, the butler.It was dark and shadowy, only lit by a few burning candles and two torches mounted to opposite sides of the walls at the far end of the room. There was a dank, musty smell, a smell of decay that filled and stung her nostrils, although the place looked relatively clean for being abandoned.

Jasmine released her vice like grip on the door and walked farther into the entry. She noticed pictures hanging on the walls but couldn't make out what or who they were in the dim light. And then just as she was about to swipe a cobweb from one of them the door slammed shut and she heard footsteps coming toward her from down an adjacent hall. Her heart skipped and thudded in her chest. "Why are you so scared", she asked herself over and over? "Bruce is here, there is nothing to be afraid of and he would never let anything happen to you". Jasmine turned to look down the hall in the direction of the footsteps, a short, round figure started to take shape in the shadows as it drew closer.

"Good evening Mistress. I am Canterbury, if you will follow me, the Master is waiting for you, this way, in the parlor", he gestured with his arm the direction for her to follow and started off without waiting for any reply.

Jasmine followed him hesitantly, staying a good distance behind him, not wanting to get close enough that he could reach out and grab her. She made mental notes of the hall she entered in relation to the front door should she need to make a hasty exit. Noticing bright light coming from a room just ahead she reasoned that it was the parlor and that Bruce would be there, waiting for her.

Her assumption was correct. When she turned the corner to enter the room she saw Bruce standing on the opposite side, leaning against the wall by the fireplace which had logs blazing in the hearth. She sank into herself, relieved to see him; she smiled at him while Canterbury asked if there would be anything more before he retired for the night.

"That will be all, Canterbury. Thank you. You may go", with a wave of dismissal Bruce motioned for him to leave them alone.

After Canterbury had left Jasmine practically ran across the room to Bruce, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

When she finally broke from his embrace Jasmine had a look of confusion on her face, why was Bruce ordering the man around like he was a common servant? If he had hired him to give the illusion of being master of the manor then why did he send him home for the night when none of the other guests have arrived yet? And where were the other guests, shouldn't they have been here by now, the invitation said 8:00 P.M.... Don't be late? She was curious and she let it be known, she asked him those very questions as she let her fingers play across his chest and in his hair.

"Ahh, Jasmine. Sweet, innocent flower of my heart, you ask so many questions, where should I begin. There are many things you do not know about me. Answers will come as the night wears on, but first, let me ask you a question. Would you have come here tonight if I had told you that you were going to be the only guest at this party, that this party was just for you"?

She looked at him, puzzled, "Why am I the only one you invited"?

Bruce pulled her to him, crushing her to his muscular chest tightly. His lips claimed hers in a passionate kiss, his tongue delved between her soft, pouty lips as he sucked and pulled gently at the tender flesh. His hands began to move over her body, kneading and caressing. Gliding down her back to her round buttocks and back up and across her bare shoulders.

Jasmine moaned into his mouth, her fears dissipating like fog in the morning sun under his touch. She pressed herself into him harder, feeling the warmth of his body penetrate her dress, her skin and her soul. He was always able to make her forget everything with his kisses and touch. He made everything else seem so unimportant when he held her like this. She already could care less that she was the only one here with him, alone... in this house.

Bruce brought a hand between them, cupping her breast, fondling the supple flesh tenderly. His fingers worked her already erect nipple diligently as he deepened the kiss, bruising her lips with his passion. Finally, breaking away breathlessly, he took her hand and started to lead her to the doorway through which she had entered earlier. She followed, trusting, holding his hand tightly. She was intoxicated by their passion, she would do anything he asked at this moment, anything to make him hold her again and kiss her so lustfully.

When they entered the dark hall Bruce made a left turn, leading them farther into darkness. He felt Jasmine tighten her grip on his hand, and he, sensing her apprehension, spoke to her to ease her mind.

"It's OK. Don't be scared, I'm taking us to another room where I can show you more pleasure than you've ever known. I'll be with you the whole time, I won't leave you. Trust me"

Jasmine's heart pounded in her ears as she repeated his words over and over in her mind, "more pleasure then you've ever known", she sighed and moaned softly. She liked the sound of that; she was already so aroused from his kisses and caresses. She loosened her grip a little as she let him lead her through the black corridor. Not far ahead she saw dim light coming from under a door. Her pulse quickened in anticipation, again repeating his words in her mind. When they reached the door he pushed it open slowly, leading her inside. A fire was burning in the hearth in this room as well. She looked around, noting how empty the room was save for two chairs and a side table by the fireplace.

Bruce dropped her hand and strode to the decanter on the side table. He poured them both a glass of brandy, hoping the drink would relax Jasmine a bit more. Hoping it would loosen her up and make her susceptible to his plan. He had so much to show her, so much to tell her. He needed her to be as calm and open minded as possible if she was going to accept everything he had in store for her. As he finished pouring the brandy into the second glass he felt her brush against him. He turned to face her, smiling at her as he handed her the drink.

"Here, drink this and have a seat. We can sit and talk for a bit and warm up by the fire", Bruce took her hand as she sat into the chair closest to the hearth.

As she sat down and settled herself into the large, high back chair she asked him, "Why have you gone to such measures to have me here...at this house? Why the gown if there wasn't going to be a party? And I guess the real question...whythis house"? Jasmine looked around the room again as she asked the last question and sipped at her glass, peering over the rim at him.

"Alright my sweet, I suppose it is time for some answers", Bruce said, chuckling a little under his breath at knowing the answers were not going to make her feel any more comfortable. "First off, why this house? Well, I have told you that I was adopted when I was very young and that I have been searching for my birth family for some time. My search has led me to so many dead ends, false leads and disappointments. A month ago I came across some information that finally panned out and I found my family. I traced my family tree and found that this house had belonged to my great-great grandfather. No one in the family had wanted it I was told, because of the story that goes with it, so I bought it", sipping his brandy he hesitated, waiting for her to ask the question that he knew was imminent after revealing he had found his family, and she didn't disappoint him.

"Oh Bruce, that's wonderful. I'm so happy that you found your family. Have you contacted them? Have you met with them", her excitement for him carried over into her words. She knew he had been searching for so long to find who he was...where he came from.

"No, I haven't yet met my parents. I have only met a sister that I didn't know I had. She is very beautiful, so charming and witty", he smirked at the last of his statements. "When I met her I didn't tell her who I was, we met at a coffee house where I heard she hung out. I went there and waited for her, I introduced myself and we hit it off and talked for hours", Bruce had changed a few of the details of his meeting with his sister, it wasn't important that Jasmine knowing everything just yet.

Bruce stood in front of Jasmine and knelt at her feet. He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing each knuckle softly. When he had adorned the last one with a kiss he leaned in and brushed her lips with his. Releasing her hands, his made their way up her arms to her shoulders and pulled her to him, kissing her more passionately, parting her lips hungrily with his tongue, probing her mouth.

Jasmine returned his kisses with as much enthusiasm and fever as he showed for her. She sighed softly as he caressed her back, letting her hands weave through his hair as she became drunk with lust. Never before had a man made her feel so much, so deeply. Never had a man made her this weak from just a kiss.

Pulling his lips from hers he moved to her neck, licking and nibbling between kisses on the velvety flesh. He spoke a word at a time as he continued to let his lips and tongue play across the soft skin. "Do...you...trust...me, Jasmine"?

With her head lulled back in ecstasy she moaned the word, "Yes".

Bruce stood, pulling her up with him. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and crushed her breasts to his chest as he placed butterfly kisses across her eyelids, her forehead and nose. "Will you do something for me, my sweet", he asked in a husky voice laced with arousal?

"Yes, anything. Just tell me what you want", she panted, her voice raspy with desire.

Bruce's hands slid slowly up and down her back, finally coming to rest on the top hook that closed the back of the dress. He opened it effortlessly and moved on to the next, and the next when she gave no protest. When he had released the last of the hooks he slid the dress off of her shoulders, down her arms, until it pooled around her waist. He kept his eyes locked on hers the whole time. Watching her reaction, looking for apprehension and finding none.

Jasmine had wanted him to take her so many times, but she didn't want to make the first move. She waited patiently for months for him to initiate more than a kiss, now, it was finally happening. She moaned loudly as his hands cupped her breasts through the red, lace bra that he had sent with the dress. His fingers trailed down the cleft of her cleavage as they made their way to the release on the front of the bra. She shivered uncontrollably with excitement. His hands felt hot against her skin, smooth and tender.

Bruce bent forward to take her erect nipple between his lips. He sucked it gently, his tongue making lazy circles around the nub, causing it to harden even more. "Mmm, Jasmine", he groaned as he stood upright, looking into her eyes. Her lids were weighted with desire, half open, as she stared at him. He knew he could get her to do whatever he asked from this point on. He knew it was time to move on to the next part of his plan. Taking her by the hand he led her backward into the shadowed part of the room. She followed him, as if under some kind of spell, not thinking of anything but wanting his hands and mouth on her body again.

Completely surrounded by darkness in the back of the room, she felt Bruce moving around her. First removing her dress from her hips, sliding it down her legs, leaving the fishnet stockings in place. She felt him raise her arms over her head and her wrists being bound tightly to something above. She could have protested but she kept silent, anticipating what would come next. She didn't wait long before she felt her legs being gently spread wide and then bound just as tenderly, held firmly in a spread eagle position. He removed her mask from her eyes; she had forgotten it was still on. Silence, thundered in her ears as loud as her heartbeat. Where was he she thought? She had not felt him near her for several minutes.

"Bruce, are you there"? Her voice betrayed the calm she was trying to show.