A chill wind blew across the gas station lot as Jack pulled out his phone, relieved to see he still had a signal. He was deep in the countryside and there were some final phone calls to make before heading into the true no-man’s land of the mountains. He pulled up his calling app, switched to his address book and tapped on the entry for his agent.

As he waited for an answer, Jack paced about. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose before putting his spare hand in his pocket to conserve warmth. The sweater and jacket he was wearing had served him well so far, but he would need to put on a heavier coat before continuing. It would only grow colder as the roads elevated.

His short, dark blonde hair waved in the breeze as his deep blue eyes peered into the distance. The accomplished writer was in his late thirties, yet he didn’t have the typical writer’s body. He’d managed to stay relatively fit, partnering his long sessions at the keyboard with regular visits to the gym. Jack did mostly cardio and light weights, which kept him trim, healthy and vibrant.

After several rings, a deep, familiar feminine voice spoke into his ear.

“Jack! I wasn’t sure I’d hear from you again before your disappearing act. How’s my favorite author?”

“Doing fine, Margo. Just thought I’d check in before I get out of cell range.”

“About to head into the mountains?”

“Yep. I just gassed up. Taking off as soon as I make a few calls.”

“Got everything you need?”

“I think so.”

“You know how cold it is up there, right? Did you bring enough warm clothes? Oh, and food! I told you they only serve breakfast, didn’t I?”

“What are you, my mother? Yeah, I read the website before booking the trip. I got clothes and enough staples to last me a while.”

“A while? What if it’s not enough?”

“Then I’ll make a trip down to get more food. This gas station has plenty of stuff.”

“Ugh ... I can see the headline now. Famed Author Dies of Food Poisoning!”

“Oh, stop it. And I’m not that famous.”

“You’re my biggest client, so please be careful.”

“I will. Look, can you do something for me while I’m gone?”

“What do you need?”

“Give Emily a call now and then. You know how she gets when I’m away.”

“Sure. I’ll check in on her, but it’s you she wants to hear from.”

“I’m calling her next. I’ll be in touch when I can, but once I get the spark back, you might not hear from me for a while. Assuming I get it, that is.”

“Of course you will. You always do. I’m sure your mojo is waiting in the mountains.”

“Thanks, Margo. For everything. I’ll see you next month. Hopefully with a first draft in hand.”

“You’d better” she quipped playfully. “You’re welcome. Enjoy your getaway, Jack. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

He smiled and ended the call. With a quick scroll through his contact list, he found his wife and tapped her name. Jack raised the phone back to his ear and looked to the horizon. He admired the towering mountain peaks in the distance. The phone on the other end rang only twice before being answered.

“Hello? Jack?!?”

“Hey beautiful.”

“I’m so glad you called! Did you get my text with the weather update? They say it’s definitely going to snow in the higher elevations where you’re headed. It’s making me nervous. Is everything OK?”

“Yes, I got the text. Everything’s fine. I’m about to head up. Won’t have any service on the mountain. Just the phone at the B&B. How are you this anxious already? I’ve only been gone a few hours.”

“You know how. I worry because I love you. And I’m already missing you...”

“I love you too, honey. I’m sorry I have to do this again, but you know how it is. This is my process. When the juices aren’t flowing, I gotta get away for a while.”

“I know. I just wish you had picked somewhere less out of the way.”

“It looked perfect on the website. Margo talked to the owner before recommending it. Apparently. the lady who runs the place is a big fan. She cleared the calendar just for me.”

“A fan? Why didn’t you mention that before?!?”

“Relax. I’m sure it’ll be fine. If I get Annie Wilkes vibes, I’ll head right back, I promise.”

Emily let out an exhausted sigh. “Don’t even joke about that! And be careful on those roads! Go slow, especially if it’s snowing.”

“Of course. This jeep is kitted out for the mountains, so I should be good to go.”

“Call me as soon as you get there.”

“As soon as I’m there and settled in, I will.”

“Okay ... I love you!”

“Love you too, babe. These trips always fly by. I’ll be back before you know it.”

A half hour dragged by as Jack drove up cold, gray roads with increasingly worn markings. The yellow and white lines had been painted so long ago, they were barely visible for long stretches. As he headed into the higher elevations, it was easy to see why the road got so little attention. There was no traffic. It seemed almost no one drove into this barren country.

And why would they? There was no ski resort at the end of this long, twisting highway. No grand view or famous hunting ground. Just a cozy bed & breakfast and endless wilderness atop a thoroughly ordinary, yet somewhat precarious mountain range. There was nothing else for dozens of miles if the pictures and maps online were accurate.

The road and the weather grew increasingly treacherous the farther Jack drove. He reduced speed as gusting snow flew at the windshield and the path’s sharp turns took more skill to navigate. The radio, his only companion on the drive, grew fuzzy and began to fade in and out between bursts of jarring static. He cursed and killed the broadcast. He was left with nothing but the howling wind, the swish-swish of window wipers and the purring engine of the rented Jeep Grand Cherokee in his ears.

The half hour of driving stretched into an hour and beyond. Jack grew increasingly frustrated as the weather grew even worse. The online map had implied the drive should take only forty minutes. The gas attendant said it might be an hour if the weather was bad. He was well past that now.

Just as he was beginning to entertain the idea of turning around, the snowfall thinned and began to clear up. He emerged at the highest point on the lonesome road, which grew increasingly slender and narrowed into one big lane. The light of day shone through the clouds and illuminated the snow into an almost blinding white.

After several more turns, Jack saw his destination in the distance and breathed a sigh of relief. A thin column of smoke rose from a large chimney into the crisp mountain air. The large, two story building stood out prominently from the half-frozen trees and blankets of fresh white powder. The SUV labored up the cold, muddy trail, completing its long journey and crunching to a stop just before the building’s entrance.

A set of stone stairs led up to the establishment’s long wrap-around porch. A large sign hung over the entrance proclaiming the estate’s name boldly: ‘HECATE HEIGHTS.’ Mounted on the support beams leading up to the sign were two iron-framed, glass enclosed wall sconces that lit up brightly with three bulbs each. Even in the light of day, they shined like bright torches.

’Finally... ‘

Jack killed the engine and stepped out of the vehicle. He shivered instantly, bristling at how much colder it was on the mountain than where he’d been eighty minutes ago. He opened the side door and back hatch, pulling out several pieces of his luggage. Just as he was loading himself up, he heard a door open and the sound of boots clomping across the porch.

He looked up to see a woman in a long, black leather trench coat descending the staircase. Its color was matched by her shoulder-length hair, leather pants and the shiny boots that covered her feet and trailed up her toned calves. Jack’s brow lifted and his eyes grew as big as silver dollars as he got his first glance at the owner. The cowgirl hat aside, she looked like she’d just stepped off the set of The Matrix.

“Hello!” she said with a wave and a smile. The surprisingly tall woman strode around the vehicle and directly to his side. Even in riding boots with only one inch heels, she almost matched his height. “Mr. Fleming?” she asked, holding out her hand. “It’s a real honor.”

He nodded and shook her still-warm glove. The woman’s leathery grip closed around his bare palm with impressive strength. It took him by surprise, but he played it cool. “Please, call me Jack. You must be Ms. Doyle?”

“Wendy” she replied with a beaming grin, confirming their mutual discard of formalities. “Can I help carry in your things?”

Jack was about to decline, but stopped before making a fool of himself. Dismissing his hostess, a woman who was accustomed to a much heartier mountain life than he was, would be silly. Nor did he particularly want to make three or four trips back into the cold. Instead, he stood aside and gestured to the remaining boxes and bags.

“By all means. Thank you.”

“My pleasure” she purred. Within seconds Wendy was leaning into the jeep and loading herself up. “After this, you’ll need to pull around and park by my vehicle. I’ll plug in your block heater.”

“Ah, yes. The rental agent mentioned I might need it. It gets that cold up here?”

“The temperature dips very low at night” she explained. “Without the heater, there’s no guarantee your engine would start up again.” Wendy offered him a toothy grin. “Wouldn’t want that to happen.”

The fireplace roared as Jack sat and observed his surroundings. The lobby of the B&B looked much like a hunting lodge. There was lots of wooden furniture, animal furs, a few trophies mounted on the walls and a stonework chess set sitting on a barrel between two empty rocking chairs. The only thing that looked out of place was Wendy.

Now that she’d taken off her long leather duster and hat, she looked more like some kind of goth fetish model. She sat opposite him, her arms and midriff bare as a shiny halter top rounded out her full leather attire. Jack found it difficult to place her age. She had the bearing and confidence of an older woman, but if she was older than him, she looked amazing for her age.

Buxom curves filled out her gripping leather ensemble. Thick thighs, an hourglass waist and well toned arms spoke to a woman who got plenty of exercise in the thin air of the mountains. Her bright green eyes shimmered in the light of the fire. Jack found himself gawking at her, in spite of himself.

He sipped his coffee before nodding thankfully and setting it down on the table between them. She drank deeply of her own cup and smiled wide, staring back at him.

“I still can’t believe you’re here. You probably get this a lot, but I’m your biggest fan.”

“Oh- Thank you! That’s very kind.”

“I mean it! I love everything about your books, but especially the way you write women.”

Jack chuckled. “Well, that’s certainly nice to hear, since I’m often criticized for that very thing.”

Wendy waved her hand dismissively. “To hell with your critics. You write strong, confident women who know what they want and take it. Your novels have been a great inspiration to me.”

Jack couldn’t help but blush. “You flatter me.”

Wendy set her cup down before reaching over to a book shelf next to her seat. She pulled a well-read hardback from a row of books and brought it forward. She turned the tome around and handed it to Jack along with a ballpoint pen. It was a copy of one of his earlier works: ‘Prison of Silence.’

“I’d love an autograph. If it’s not too much trouble.”

Jack grinned and accepted them gladly. “Of course! I know just how to dedicate it.”

He opened to the title page, clicked the pen and began scribbling away. Within moments it was done and he handed it back to Wendy. She opened the book with wide eyes and read it eagerly.

She closed the cover with a light thud and pressed the hardcover to her bosom. “Thank you so much! I will treasure this for the rest of my life!”

Jacked nodded. “You’re very welcome.”

Wendy set the book aside, lifted her mug and took another sip of the warm brew. “So, you’re here to work on something new, right?”

“That’s the plan. Sometimes, when the words aren’t flowing, I need to find somewhere to recapture the spark. Somewhere with as few distractions as possible. Hecate Heights seemed like a perfect candidate.”

“Oh, this is definitely the perfect place. I bought it for the same reason. You can do anything up here with no distractions. You won’t regret choosing it.”

“Interesting name, by the way. Hecate was a Greek Goddess. A Goddess of the underworld, if I remember my mythology correctly?”

“That’s right. She’s another inspiration to me. Most of the people who come here don’t recognize the name, but I’m not surprised you did.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, is this bed and breakfast how you make your living? I can’t imagine three room rentals in a remote location like this is enough to pay all the bills.”

“Oh ... No, this is a side hustle. I make most of income through other means. I’m a performer, of sorts.”

“A performer? Up here?!?”

“Yes. A content creator. I make videos in my own little studio.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh-” Jack replied with a nod, leaning back in his chair. “YouTube, Vimeo and the like?”

“Something like that.”

“But how does that work? I was told there’s no internet here.”

“My method is a little old fashion, but it gets the job done. I record and edit my work, then put it on physical storage and send it by post. I have a tech guru who takes cares of the rest.”

Jack nodded thoughtfully before taking a gulp of his drink. “Smart.”

“Like you said, no distractions. It allows me to focus on what I love doing. You’ll see for yourself, soon.”

“That’s why I’m here. So, is there anything else I need to know before you show me my room?”

“Yes” she replied. Wendy set her mug down and struck a serious tone. “Breakfast is at 9 AM sharp. You snooze, you lose. Some nights, if I’m in the mood and have the time, I’ll make dinner as well, but if I’m not in the kitchen at 6 PM, you’re on your own. You’re welcome to use the kitchen for your own needs as well.”

“No worries, there. I’m no cook. I’d live on Pop Tarts and Chinese takeout if my wife let me. Thankfully, she doesn’t.”

Wendy snickered before continuing. “If you need to make a call, you can use the phone in the hallway. Your room has its own half-bath, but no shower. The showers here are communal. Normally, you’d have to schedule a time to use them, but it’s just you and me, so that won’t be necessary.”

Jack nodded. “Sounds good. Anything else?”

“Just one thing. My studio is in the basement. Like you, I don’t like to be disturbed while I’m working, so that’s off limits unless it’s an emergency.”

“Understood.”

“I may have guests over to help me with my videos from time to time, but it’s unlikely you’ll cross paths.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“We usually shoot at night.”

Jack stared at his laptop screen. His elbows lay on the desk and his hands were folded in contemplation. His word processor was open, ready to receive his stream of consciousness. The empty page and blinking cursor stared back at him, mockingly.

Nothing.

There he sat in the simple, comfy guest room. There was a bed, a few furnishings, a nice view of the slowly darkening sunset sky and little else. Wendy had removed the TV from the room before he arrived, as requested. No internet. Nothing to distract him. And yet, the gears refused to turn.

Jack was the author of over a dozen titles, several of which were bestsellers. He was known for his crime thrillers and noir adventures. He’d even dipped his toe in science fiction, with somewhat less success. He’d done this a hundred times. His process was iron clad. After all the preparation and the arduous journey, he’d arrived at the mountain sanctuary that would host his retreat and provide him the seclusion necessary to get back to work.

He reached into the well of his mind and found ... bubkis. Zip. Naught but the void.

Jack sighed and leaned back in his chair. He stared at the screen for a few more seconds before reaching out and gently closing the notebook computer. It wasn’t happening tonight. Maybe his nerves were still settling after the jarring trip up the mountain. Or perhaps there was one distraction rampaging around his mind in the form of a raven-haired beauty. A voluptuous, confident, take-charge femme with a brilliant smile and legs for days.

Wendy was an impressive woman. Reflecting on it now, it wasn’t hard to see why she was a fan. The sole proprietress of Hecate Heights could’ve been a character straight out of Jack’s novels. Bold, assertive, a provocative dresser and unafraid to weather hardships on her own. She couldn’t have been more different from Jack’s wife.

He looked down at his left hand and studied the wedding band snug on his ring finger. His call with Emily had been brief, but warm. She was relieved to know Jack was safely at his destination. He promised to call her every day, but Wendy insisted that wasn’t necessary. She understood his need for privacy to find the spark and rekindle the bonfire of dreams. They’d said ’I love you’ several times before hanging up.

No, it wasn’t time yet. He needed to rest and clear his mind. The work would begin tomorrow. He’d relax and read tonight, until his body was ready for sleep. Aside from Wendy, his favorite authors would be his only companions in the coming weeks. Sometimes, when the fount of imagination refused to flow, one looked to others for inspiration. If he kept his mind and heart open, Jack was confident the muse would wrap her arms around him soon.

The night munchies struck around ten o’clock. No surprise, since he hadn’t eaten much for dinner. Wendy had offered no evening meal for his first night, so Jack had been left to fend for himself. He set his book on the end table, put his shoes back on and exited his room.

He was on his way to the kitchen via the hallway when violent, yet muffled, sounds stopped him in his tracks.

whhhhppsshhhh

“Arrrgghhhh!”

“You little shit!”

whhhhppsshhhh

“Ahhhhhhh!”

“Take it, you worm!”

Jack could barely make out the words through the basement door. He crept up to the wall and placed his ear to the crack between the door and the frame. The unmistakable sounds of discipline and cries of anguish came through a bit stronger.

whhhhppsshhhh whhhhppsshhhh whhhhppsshhhh

“Arrghhh! ARRGGHH!”

“Awww, does it hurt? I’m just getting started you filthy bitch!”

At first he thought she might be watching porn at high volume, as unlikely as that seemed, but he soon confirmed it was Wendy’s voice. Jack realized with sudden clarity precisely the kind of content creator Wendy was. She was making videos alright. Hearing the pained responses of the unidentified man, Jack hoped the performance was consensual.

smack smack smack

“Squirm you piece of shit!”

It almost definitely was consensual. After all, why would someone drive all the way up here unless they wanted that kind of treatment. Still, Jack’s curiosity was beyond piqued. He knew he should turn away, collect his snack and go back to his room, but the allure of illicit sex was powerful. If he didn’t get a glimpse of what was going on below, he’d kick himself forever. Hell, this could be the bit of inspiration that launched him down a new literary path. Perhaps Wendy would be one of his characters.

With gentle precision, he turned the knob quietly and silently opened the door. He gazed down into a darkened stairwell with dim lighting glowing from the periphery of the basement. Jack took a deep breath and started a slow, careful walk down the tiered wooden planks.

WHHHPPPSSHHH WHHHPPPSHHHH

“AARRHHHHMMMMNNNNNN!!!”

The noises became much louder as he proceeded stealthily downward. The sounds of persistent flogging and the man’s cries of torment were accompanied by jingling chains and the sounds of stiletto heels striking the cold basement floor.

“Your ass isn’t NEARLY red enough for my liking! Or your balls for that matter!”

WHHHPPPSHHHH

“MMMPPPPGGGGGHHHHMMMMMM!!!”

Jack winced as the latest yelps were accompanied by slobbering coughs and muffled groans. After inching two thirds of the way down the stairs, the sides of the narrow corridor began to open into a view of the vast play space. Wendy had a massive dungeon below the quaint-looking inn and the scope of her operation made Jack’s eyes widen to saucers of disbelief.

The smell of leather, rubber and metal were heavy in his nose. The walls were bright, shiny red with a ring of lights that went all the way around the perimeter. The massive chamber was filled with all manner of bondage furniture; most matching the wall’s red color or standing out in stark, contrasting black. Clothes racks of leather and rubber outfits lined much of the studio. Other walls were covered in implements of pain, restraining devices and rows of fat rubber strapon dildos.

The heavy smacking sounds and male wailing continued to belt out as Jack tracked them to their source. There was Wendy, clad in nothing but a black latex bra and panties as she laced into her client repeatedly. The poor man was hung in a web of leather and metal, dangling from the ceiling as he was beaten mercilessly.

Wendy dual wielded a thick paddle and a cat-o-nine-tails flogger. Her athletic body gleamed with a light sheen of sweat despite the cool dungeon air. Her hair flowed like black silk as she flayed her bound target and cackled. She was really going to town on this guy.

crrreeeeaaaakkkk

Jack took one more step at an inopportune moment. For an alarming second, Wendy didn’t strike and the submissive didn’t groan. The only sound was the one he’d foolishly produced underfoot. A bolt of terror shot down Jack’s spine as he froze and wondered if he’d just completely fucked himself.

Wendy knew that sound only too well. Her head began to turn, but she paused. She thought about wheeling around fully to confront her uninvited guest, but stopped herself. The impassioned Domina smiled wickedly.

’Oh! That eager to get started, are we? Fine then. Enjoy the show.’

She acted as if she’d heard nothing, focusing her attention back on the slave dangling in the leather harness. Wendy raised her flogger and sent it’s thick leather tassels whipping into the man’s limp dick and quivering scrotum. After several loud yelps into his gag, she followed up the brutal assault with another round of punishing slaps into his already reddened ass. She stalked back and forth, pouring on verbal degradation and hocked wads of spit in equal measure to her physical beatings.

Jack peeked around one of the beams lining the stairway, wide-eyed as he watched the scene of debauchery play out. He remained quiet as the grave, beholding the spectacle and trying, in vain, to tear himself away from its perverted thrills. Jack had never before engaged in voyeurism, but found himself enraptured. After a surprisingly lengthy viewing, he turned and tip-toed back up the stairs as silently as he’d entered.

Jack was typing away furiously when he suddenly noticed the time. The corner of his laptop monitor alarmed him to the fact that it was 2:56 AM. He’d planned to turn in hours ago, but after his exciting infiltration of Wendy’s BDSM lair, there was no way he could sleep. On top of that, he finally had some new ideas to play with. As soon as he’d gotten back to his desk, the words began flowing. A trickle at first. Then a stream. He’d cranked out six pages in good time.

’Yeah! This could be it ... The start of something new and exciting!’

He wanted to continue, but fatigue was setting in. Besides, breakfast was in six hours, and there was no way he was going to miss that after typing with a grumbling stomach all night.

Breakfast with a dominatrix. That would be something! Starting tomorrow, he’d be looking at Wendy in a whole new light.

Warm water gushed from the large, metallic spout positioned a foot and a half over Jack’s head. He lathered himself up as he stood in the fancy glass enclosure. The water ran down into the single drain in the center of the floor.

When Wendy said communal showers, truly horrific images had reeled through his mind. A large wooden tub in an oversized outhouse with a single hose dangling above it. A prison bathroom with the most basic plumbing where gang beatings and sexual assault occurred regularly. Thankfully, the inn’s bathroom was nothing like that.

The room was fancy enough to pass muster even in an upscale hotel. The white paint, combined with the metal and glass furnishings, gave it an almost opulent character. Two sinks were available, both nicely decorated, with drawers full of complimentary soap, shampoo and other toiletries. Fresh towels bearing the letters ‘HH’ hung from the towel bars on either side of the large stand-up shower. There were two shower heads available, presumably so a couple could bathe together if they wished.

Jack had just started humming a little ditty when the door behind him opened and he practically jumped out of his skin. He grabbed the support bar just below the shower controls, stopping himself from slipping. The soap dropped and hit the floor with a wet thud as he raced to cover his manhood with his free hand.

“W--Wendy?!?”

“Good morning!” she said casually as she stepped into the warm enclosure. The buxom belle was nude as the day she was born. “You’re a shower singer, huh?”

Jack stood in stunned silence, saying nothing for a few moments as Wendy stepped under the second spout and turned the warm water on. In no time at all, her midnight locks were soaked and gleaming in the overhead lights. Jack risked a cautious side-glance as water trickled down her fulsome curves.

“I ... Well, I don’t really sing” he spoke over the sound of spraying water. “I don’t have the voice for it.”

As she turned and began lathering herself, Jack got a full view of her gorgeous assets. Flawless, fair skin, a heavy pair of E-cup breasts and a wonderfully round butt. Her enticing form was painted with two expert ink jobs. Her left ass cheek bore a red heart tattoo with the words ‘KISS HERE’ above it. Sliding down her right leg was the depiction of a coiled snake, drawn into her flesh with exquisite detail.

“Who cares?” she replied. “It’s not like anyone’s gonna hear you. Well, not normally, anyway.”

Jack turned away, still cradling his privates as Wendy glided her hands up and down her soapy body.

“Ummm, yeah. I didn’t think anyone was going to hear me at all.”

“Relax, Jack. No need to be bashful. We’re both adults. I guarantee you’ve got nothing I haven’t seen before.”

After what he’d learned last night, it was hard to imagine that was anything but the gospel truth.

Jack lowered his guard and leaned down to pick up the soap. When he stood back to his full height, he found Wendy’s head turned. She was studying him up and down with a cheeky grin. They said nothing for a spell as they both washed. Eventually, she broke the silence.

“You’re in good shape. Especially for a man who sits at a computer half the day.”

“Thanks” he responded with a half chuckle. “You’re ... in great shape too.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. She’d obviously been expecting something more flattering. No surprise, since the men she entertained likely lavished her with constant compliments and outright worship.

“What makes you think I don’t have a typewriter at home?” he followed up. “Maybe I’m old fashioned.”

“Nah, I don’t think so” she replied as the suds slid off her freshly washed form. “You don’t give off that vibe.” She reached out and shut off the water before turning to him. “Besides, I’ve read every interview you’ve ever given. You never mentioned a typewriter.”

Jack froze in place as her eyes locked on him. For the first time, he wondered if the joke he’d cracked to his wife before leaving the gas station hadn’t revealed itself as prophecy.

“Breakfast in twenty minutes” she reminded him before opening the glass door and stepping out. “See ya then.”

“Sounds good!” he called over his shoulder before the door closed behind her.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. He took his time rinsing his body before killing the hot, soothing jet and shaking himself like a wet dog. He stepped out and dried off with the branded and wonderfully fluffy towels. Moments later, he realized something was wrong.