THE USUAL WARNINGS:
This is a work of fiction by a twisted mind. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of natural and/or unnatural sexual acts, if you are underage, or if this type of material is illegal where you are, don't read any further.
This is a fantasy. You will have to loosen your clench on reality a little when you read it. This is a in which physical acts and human responses are not limited to, nor necessarily based in, reality. Some acts and responses in this may be physically impossible and/or physiologically improbable.
Also, as is the case with most of the in this newsgroup, all the women in this are beautiful - gorgeous, even. Gravity has not caused to droop nor have wrinkles creased unblemished faces. The men (the leading men, at least) are hung like bulls. They can get it up and keep it up often and at will. In this special little fantasyland, there are no STDs, morals, or unwanted pregnancies. Guilt is a four- letter word. Most important of all, neither strength of character, courage of convictions, nor moral belief stand a chance against any erotic stimulus. This can be as benign as an accidental glimpse of a bared ankle or as stimulating as a whipping on the genitals.
For those of you who didn't understand the preceding statements, GO AWAY!
This is intended for the salacious entertainment of consenting adults. Do not try to do any of the things described in this story. You could injure yourself or your partner, be arrested, or shot by her father....
If you are under 18 years of age, GO AWAY! This will burn your eyeballs and fry your brain.
If material of a strong sexual nature is prohibited where you are, GO AWAY!
By continuing, the reader accepts all responsibility for any disgust, revulsion, jail sentences, or pleasure that results from reading this story. If you don't, GO AWAY!
You have been warned!
If you enjoy this and feel the urge to post it on a <free> site, at least give me (NightShade) credit for it.
So, stick your tongue firmly in your cheek and enjoy the story!....:)
NightShade
Sandcastles
by NightShade Introduction
Acknowledgement: This has been developed and written over a period of several years. I would like to thank "Leviticus" for his encouragement to finish writing this, for his help in making the characters seem a little more real, for his insight into the situations in which the characters find themselves and making their reactions plausible. My apologies to Leviticus if I have assumed the wrong gender.... :)
This is a work of adult fiction. The situations the characters find themselves in are, at times, explicitly sexual and/or traumatic. There is some violence, but, while graphic, I have tried not to be too explicit. There is some underage sexual contact, both consenting and non-consenting. Again, it is an integral part of the story, but it is not the focal point.
This is not a `stroke' story, but it has its moments. Many different elements of the human sexual experience are included at one point or another, with BDSM playing a major role. The would best be described as a BDSM romance novel.
Nothing and no one is real in this story, but all places and settings mentioned may have a basis in reality. For example, this takes place on the Eastern Coast of the United States. That is a real place. The exact towns and states the characters live in are not named, as they don't exist. The one exception is Washington, DC, but no one can tell fact from fiction there anyway, so who cares?
The concert hall is based on the one in Wuerzburg, Germany, or at least as I remember it. There is a city named Punta Arenas at the southern tip of Chile, but the prison and the commandant mentioned in this are imaginary. The Middle Eastern country, as well as the characters from there, are made up, as are the cultural rituals described. The Yankees are a real baseball team, but the player and the club mentioned are not. The medical devices in this unfortunately do not exist.
The reason for the title "Sandcastles" will become apparent after many, many chapters. My apologies to the author of "Castle in the Sand", an excellent work and one of my favorites, for the similarity in the titles. I can only hope the quality of my writing comes as close. -------- This may not be posted or re-posted without my expressed written permission. It is expressly forbidden to post it on a pay site.
It is my hope that you enjoy this story. If you don't, write a better one. I would enjoy reading it.
NightShade <i_m_nightshade@hotmail.com>
Chapter 1
It had been a really rough day. The crying children and screaming hadn't been the worst of it. You get that at little league games and parent/teacher conferences all the time. What had made this particular day so rough was the silence. It was the kind of catatonic listlessness that could suck the love right out of you as you helplessly watched a teeter on the brink between a life-long series of nightmares and fears or of taking the beginning steps in the long process of recovery. That is, if you can call what a woman's life becomes after being on the receiving end of a brutal sexual assault a 'recovery.' I had looked helplessly into vacant eyes that just yesterday had been full of sparkle and hope and more than a touch of mischief, now dulled without a glimmer of life or vitality.
I lay sleepless in bed with Sally, my girlfriend of about 18 months after that seemingly endless night at the hospital, of filling out medical forms, insurance forms, police forms, and so on. Everybody wanted details. I shuddered to think of all the closet perverts who would have access to the lurid details of the gruesome incident. I wondered which of those innocent records would turn up later to continue to ruin her life. Having exhausted all the I could count, I masochistically reviewed the events of the past 12 or so hours as I tried to fall asleep.
***
Janey had tried to slip into the house unnoticed, home early from her date. She was my girlfriend's and had been her 15th birthday. Sally had reluctantly agreed to let her 'baby' go on her first real date, as her rule had always been no 'couple' dates until Janey was 16 years old. This time there would be no other couple, no chaperones. Just the two kids. There would be others at the party, and then, well, whatever. Sally should have listened to her fears. The date had been a disaster.
We were waiting up for Janey to get home. We, Sally, actually, had a surprise birthday gift to give her, along with a cake and a candle. I benefited from this special occasion as well, as I got to spend the night with Sally, an unusual liberty for a weekday. Even after 18 months of serious dating, Sally still held me at arm's length and I normally only saw Janey when our weekend schedules collided at the house. Janey was an active teenager in her first year of High School, popular, pretty, and vivacious. It seemed every second of her life was a flurry of activity, so she was gone much of the time.
I sometimes thought that if it weren't for Sally's strong sexual needs, and her own recognition of them, she wouldn't have let anyone - much less me - into her life at all. Don't get me wrong. She was loving, sensual, caring, and, honestly, the best lover I could ever want. Certainly, she was by far the best woman I had ever had the pleasure of loving. Nothing was out of bounds, sexually at least, and things were heading towards a more permanent arrangement. At least, I sincerely hoped so.
But there was always a wall that kept me from getting too close or too comfortable, a barrier I couldn't get through, over or around. Sally, although she admitted it was there, simply wouldn't discuss it. The two weeks of gentle, but firm celibacy that were sure to follow each time I brought it up, with the threat of a permanently celibate status if I ever brought it up again, let me know in no uncertain terms that the matter was off limits. I was left with the assumption that someone, probably a man, had her terribly. I was pretty sure I was in the clear, but I was definitely paying the price for the bastard's deed.
Hearing the front door open and quietly close, and the 'beep beep' of the alarm being set, we sneaked down the hall bearing our gifts, cake and a lighted candle. We sprang into the teenager's darkened bedroom with shouts of "Surprise!" The strained melody of an off-key duet of "Happy Birthday to You" died out as we both saw her at the same instant. Janey was curled in a tiny ball on the floor at the foot of her bed.
I caught the wrapped gift, the cake and the candle that were tossed in my general direction as Sally moved instinctively to hold her daughter. Janey was covered in blood, mostly from the stomach down, the sticky streaks thicker on the inside of her legs. The bodice of her pretty new party dress was missing a couple of buttons, and the one sleeve I could see was torn. Her birthday dress was ruined.
I was already headed down the hall for the telephone when I heard Sally's crisp "Call 9-1-1." I had always admired her for that. Unlike most women I had known, she didn't fall apart in a crisis. She stayed calm, took charge, assessed the situation, made the hard decisions and never doubted them. Even afterwards, she wouldn't doubt the decisions she had made during a crisis. I knew, and more importantly, Janey knew, that Sally would take care of Janey now.
Several things went through my head as to what type of accident could have caused her injuries. Call me innocent, ignorant or na‹ve, but a traumatic rape was not even on my list of possibilities. It just didn't enter my mind. It is not something I would do under any circumstances, and I guess I just expected other civilized to behave in a similar manner towards women. Especially the women I loved.
Sally must have known how I would react to the news she was about to break, as she waited to tell me until we were alone in one of those rooms they have at hospitals with no windows and only one door. She had found me sitting in those horribly uncomfortable chairs designed to increase patient traffic at chiropractic offices. She stood with her back to the only exit, blocking me in the room. I looked up at her, hoping she was going to rescue me from the mindless fare of cable network news and 5 year magazines. I had listened through three or four repetitions of the tops news stories of the day. Today's hot news was the annual governor's congress in Washington, D.C. and their concern over the recent sharp rise in missing teenagers, mostly girls, apparently runaways.
I had been brutally stunned as Sally quietly informed me that the police were sending over a specialist in sexual assaults to talk with Janey and us about the attack. Janey had been raped. She told me later that my reaction had severely frightened her. She grudgingly admitted that she had underestimated the depth and strength of my feelings. She knew I cared about Janey, and that I would be upset. She was unprepared for my reaction. I was livid, horrified. It was extremely personal. Even more, I was in a murderous rage I couldn't and didn't want to shake off.
I now understood justifiable homicide. If I am ever honored to be selected for a jury trial of a parent who killed or maimed the person who had injured their child, I will vote not to convict, but to award a Medal of Honor to that parent.
Funny thing, I didn't see when I had heard what had happened to Janey. I saw nothing. I felt nothing. It was simply as if a switch had been flipped and the whole world had just stopped existing. My only thought was to avenge that innocent little girl's pain. It was the first time Sally had seen me cry, but I don't remember. I'll take her word for it.
Sally calmly continued to say that the hospital staff was surprised that most of the blood on Janey had not been her own, but apparently the attacker's. Janey had a few ugly bruises, and had some bleeding from abrasions in and around her vaginal area. She had been brutally penetrated, their words, but there was no semen present. Both the OB/GYN and the emergency physician thought she would heal in time. Physically, anyway.
Seeing my blank, uncomprehending stare and my tight grip on the arms of the chair, she told me what she had been able to put together of the events that had transpired on her daughter's birthday.
Janey's date, Steven, was a big hotshot football player a couple of years than Janey. They had met because he was a star player and she was a cheerleader. As a freshman, she was the youngest on the squad by two years. She was smart, talented and friendly to everyone. From the first day of school, Janey had been besieged with requests for dates, which she had graciously turned down. She knew her Mom's rule.
Although she had to refuse to go on the dates, Janey had that gracious ability to make each of her suitors feel glad just to know her. She somehow sensed the emotional trauma a rejection could cause a teenage male ego and she let them know that she was the one who was privileged to have been asked out. The she turned down liked her more after than before. She was developing quite a following for a freshman. She was levelheaded about the attention; not what you would call boy-crazy, although there were some that made her heart beat a just little faster when they called the house. However, all her other girlfriends were seriously infected with that peculiar teenage disease, and Janey sort of went along.
Peer pressure is a terrible force in a teen's life, and, because of her status as a cheerleader, Janey was 'expected' to date, among other things, as we were to discover shortly. When Steven asked her out for a special birthday party in her honor, she felt not only honored, but also somewhat obligated to ask her for permission to go. She and her had a long-standing agreement that Janey would not date 'solo' until she was 16, but her persistence wore down Sally's resistance. She was allowed to go this one time, with the explicit understanding that this was an exception, a one time only deal.
The date had started innocently. It was a party, supposedly in her honor at the head cheerleader's home, whose were conveniently 'out.' The punch, later discovered to be spiked, had flowed freely. It was only because of Janey's nervousness that she had only had one glass. Steven had quite a few, as had the rest of the revelers.
Because it was a school night, curfew for Janey was 11:00 p.m. and they left the party about 9:00. Steven had driven to a popular make-out spot, deserted because it was a weekday, and had tried to kiss her. At first she was flattered, thrilled that the popular she admired was paying her all this attention. However, when he made a rough grab at her breasts, bruising the tender flesh and drunkenly tearing her sleeve, she told him to stop and that she wanted to go home. Now. Janey was frightened, but not stupid, and several things about the evening just didn't add up. Suddenly realizing the whole evening had been a sham to get her alone with this boy-turned-animal added to the guilt she felt afterward.
Surprisingly, the had backed off right away, started the car and left the make-out area. She relaxed just a bit, thinking she may have been wrong about him and the odd events at the party. She always thought the best about people and she gave him the benefit of the doubt. The damage to her dress was minimal and no one would see her breasts. She was already beginning to put this evening behind her.
Janey and her live out in the country a ways, close enough to be convenient, far enough away to be left alone by all but the most determined salesmen. On the road to the house, just before the turnoff into the long driveway, there is a dark of road that parallels the river. All along this there are private, isolated spots where you can pull just a few feet off the road, and your car is all but from passersby. Steven pulled into one of those suddenly, and turned to his surprised passenger.
He hadn't even waited for her to resist before he slapped her several times across the face. Whether the hard blows stunned her or knocked her out wasn't clear. The next thing she remembered, she was flat on her back on the ground next to the car with her party dress bunched up under her armpits. Her bra had been pulled down around her waist, the straps ripped off. The force of pulling it down had dug the straps deeply into her shoulders before they snapped, bruising the tender skin.
She felt pain. Steven was mauling and biting her tits, causing terrible pains to shoot from the sensitive organs. There was a particularly sharp rock poking her in her left shoulder blade and another one right in the small of her back. With his additional 240 pounds pressing down on top of her, the rocks were really digging in.
The most intense pain came from between her legs. With no preliminaries, Steven had ripped her down her legs and shoved his prick into her virgin pussy. The damage done was not due to his size. He had only been 3, maybe 4 inches long when erect and not real thick - a true 'pencil dick.' His penis size didn't match his ego and it may have contributed to his frustrations with his life. Never having learned to deal with his own inadequacies, he covered them by bullying people and forcing himself on others.
The damage had been due to Janey being tight and dry. His angle had been off, as well as his aim, plus he had used excessive force when he finally did manage to find the virgin mouth of her vagina. The OB/GYN estimated he must have made 10-15 forceful stabs before finding the hole and gaining entrance, as Janey was bruised all over, including the area around her anus. Apparently, the boy's frustrations had increased to a frantic level, and when he found an opening or anything closely resembling one, he rammed his prick in with all of his considerable strength. I shudder to think what would have happened to her had she been conscious and moving about.
Sally had talked with Janey about sex, and boys, and the difference between love and sex. She had also included talks about rape, so Janey figured out pretty quick what was going on. Like her mother, she kept her wits about her, even in this terrifying situation.
In spite of the pain she was in, she first took stock of her surroundings. Turning her head to the side, she could see the open door of the car, the dome light casting a dim illumination on the crime scene. She could see her torn hanging like a trophy on the rear view mirror, and, strangely, his slacks and shorts folded neatly on the car seat.
A desperate plan formed in her mind. Again, like her mother, she made a decision and implemented the plan. She began 'ooohhhing' and 'aaaaahhing' in his ear. Her hips, painful though it was for her, thrust up to meet his. Although she had never fucked before, she responded with the natural rhythms of a fertile female in heat. The blood oozing from the tears in her lubricated her brutal mating with the rapist somewhat, convincing him she was responding to his efforts.
When he saw what she was doing, he had laughed at her, thinking she was responding to his rape like the slut he thought all women were. He said as much, calling her a slut, a whore and a bitch. His callous words would hurt her more and for a longer time than the injuries he was inflicting, but right then they steeled her resolve to go through with her plan.
With much panting and moaning, Janey convinced him to go at her from behind. Again, it wasn't clear if she was offering him her asshole to in so she wouldn't get pregnant, or simply to do it 'doggie style.' It wasn't important. She just knew she needed him to get off her and let her get up for a second.
He let her stand up and she wasted no time putting her plan into action. Sally had dragged me to the occasional Friday night high school ball game where I had seen Janey doing the energetic cheerleading routines, jumping around excitedly in her short skirt and tight sweater. I had seen how high she could kick, practically doing the splits standing up, her foot ending well above her head. Most underestimate just how much energy goes into cheerleading, how toned and muscled those women have to be to perform at that level for two to three hours straight. I had seen just a few of the hours of practice Janey and the others put in when I had spent the occasional weekend at Sally's. Steven had not.
As soon as Janey got up, she stepped up to him, making it look as if she wanted to kiss him on the cheek before getting down on her hands and knees. She leaned her full firm into him during the kiss, pushing him off balance a bit. Instinctively, he steadied himself against this unexpected, but lovely pressure. His legs automatically spread to about shoulder width apart to keep his balance. That was the opening she needed. Like most dealing with an angry woman, Steven never knew what hit him.
Janey turned as if to face away from him, appearing to be getting down into position to continue fucking. Then suddenly, she wheeled and with all the force in her long, tight legs and with all the murderous anger in her heart, she brought her foot up into his groin. Straight legged. Her aim was dead on, just slightly to the right of center. He must have lifted several inches off the ground.
Janey said there was no sound. He did not cry out. The only sounds in the still night air, other than his escaping breath, was the squish of a mashing testicle and the soft pop of a ruptured penis. He dropped like a stone where he stood.
Janey then did something that amazed every adult, other than Steven's parents, who heard of it. Rather than running away, leaving him there to bleed to death, she got his cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. On the playback of the tape, you could hear Janey, who didn't identify herself, calmly tell the operator exactly where the injured person was and the extent of his injuries. After the call she rolled up his slacks and shorts as a pillow for his head, walked a short distance away to where she could see but not be seen, waited until she saw the ambulance arrive, then finished walking the short distance home.
I continued to stare wordlessly at Sally as her came to a close. I had slowly come to my senses somewhere in the middle when she had said Janey would be OK physically. The physical injuries to the mitigated some of my murderous rage towards him. I no longer wanted to kill him, but I seriously resented his one surviving testicle. Even one ball was too much for that raping bastard. The thought flickered through my mind about how much it would take to bribe the surgeon to make a tiny slip with the scalpel and finish the job. In talking with the surgeon later, a woman with a teenaged of her own, she admitted she was sorry she had not known the details of his 'accident' prior to her repair work on him in the OR. She had been told it was an auto accident. She coldly admitted she would have done it for nothing. Off the record, of course.
As I watched Sally finish telling me the events of the night, I became aware of a dangerous level of emotional tension inside her, bordering on exhaustion. Mentally chastising myself for my incredible thoughtlessness and selfishness, I began to consider how she had to be feeling. She was ready to apart with fear and anger, but felt she had to be strong and hold together for Janey. She couldn't let go until Janey was out of danger, or until she could hand off responsibility to someone else. I felt the most important thing I could do for both of them was to focus on Sally and try to ease her pain and anguish. I held my arms open to her, inviting her into them.
Sally looked up at me, and I realized then that she had not looked me in the eye throughout the whole recitation. As I looked into those beautiful blue eyes, I saw her pain and anger, which I expected to see. I also saw hate. It was a bitter, acrid hate inclusive of all males, including me. It took a supreme effort, but I didn't flinch when I realized her state of mind nor did I take back the open-armed invitation of a hug. I was well aware I had just invited a madwoman bent on killing or seriously hurting something or someone to come stand next to my unprotected body.
Sally didn't move for a long moment, leaving us frozen in that estranged tableau. Then, with a small step, she moved in my direction. Hoping she wouldn't notice, I took a small step towards her, closing my legs in the process and turning my hips slightly to the side. I wasn't sure how far that 'like mother, like daughter' thing went. It wouldn't protect my privates against a hard driving knee, but it was better than singing soprano. Permanently.
Continuing to glare hatefully into my eyes, she small- stepped into my arms, ending with her face upturned. It was not a face I particularly wanted to kiss at that moment, but it was definitely one that needed it. As I lowered my defenseless face towards that venomous expression, I mentally pictured my lips being shredded by those fine sharp white teeth that had teasingly tormented me so many times during sex play. Call me a fool, but I ignored warning signs that would have made a sane make out a Last Will and Testament. I skated out onto the thin ice with abandon. Without hesitation. Hell, I was in love with the woman.
Miraculously, I felt no immediate pain. I thought that maybe my senses were dulled by the lateness of the hour and the uncomfortable hospital chairs. I was resigned to being the punching bag for her to vent her anger, and I knew she was capable of doing almost anything in her current frame of mind. Her quivering body was as tense as a bowstring as my arms slowly enfolded her to hold her gently, but firmly against my racing heart. It felt as if I was holding an atomic bomb, and I was probably about as safe. I put my body at her disposal for her to vent her anger on as she saw fit.
My lips lightly brushed her dry ones. That kiss was not in the least bit sexual. Too much fear, pain and sorrow were around us right now. I was simply making myself a sacrificial offering on the altar of her vengeance. Believe me, it was a ritual of trust. Hopefully, it would be a bloodless ritual.
Warm, wet, salty. I tasted it tentatively. Not blood. Only slightly relieved, I opened my tightly clenched eyes, apparently having squeezed them shut in anticipation and preparation of bearing much pain. Her eyes were closed, too. And leaking. Her tears began as a trickle, but soon flooded her face and my chest. No sobs, no hysteria. Just tears. My tears mingled with hers.
I don't know how long we stood like that, but the police officer in charge of the investigation finally found us to let us know they had been able to corroborate Janey's account of the evening's events. Startled, we asked why they would need to be corroborated. He filled us in on the latest sick twist in the story.
Steven's parents, his a big-shot lawyer, his mother high on the social ladder and forever clawing her way higher, had filed 'Assault and Battery' charges against Janey, even before they knew the details of what had happened. They were insistent upon filing them and wanted Janey arrested and held in the juvenile section county jail. The police were helpless to do otherwise and were going to arrest her until they found Janey's blood at the scene, right where she said the rape had happened. With that, and some other things, that supported her story, the cops held off.
Tests showed that Steven's blood alcohol level was over the legal limit for an adult, way over for an underage driver. Testimony from witnesses at the faux-party unknowingly supported Janey. The partygoers made their damaging statements thinking Steven had 'scored' with her. The torn on the mirror were identified by them as blue before anyone at the party should have known. Actually, the partygoers had made snide remarks about Janey 'crying rape' even before our 911 call had been made. Alcohol and lies don't mix.
His had weakened under the weight of the evidence, but the clincher was when the surgeon sewing him up pulled a rather large chunk of foreign tissue out of his hole. Tissue typing proved it was a piece of her cherry. The force with which he had rammed into her had shoved a torn fragment of her hymen way up inside of his urethra. As he hadn't ejaculated, it was still there.
There was no way it wasn't rape. There was no way it wasn't self-defense on her part. There was no way their spoiled little wasn't going to jail, with or without Janey's testimony. The pretty-faced 18-year-old pencil-dick was going to make someone a nice 'girlfriend' at the State Penitentiary. The rookie officer, apparently having experienced the in court on previous cases, seemed smugly pleased with that part of the outcome.
The ride home in the wee hours was quiet. Sally bundled Janey into the house, a hot bath and bed, seemingly in one continuous motion. She never left Janey alone but didn't crowd her. It wasn't until Janey was soundly asleep that Sally crawled into bed beside me.
Like I said, it had been a rough day.
Chapter 2
If I thought the night before had been rough, the next couple of days made what happened then almost seem like a vacation. Almost. Sally was so preoccupied with Janey she could think of nothing else. Janey, for her part, apparently couldn't think at all. She wouldn't react, wouldn't talk, and wouldn't move. She just lay there. Sally was able to clean her gently every day, although only behind a locked door, and gently force a few bites of food down her, but other than that, nothing.
I was beginning to be very afraid for Sally. Hell, I was afraid for both of them. I was able, after a couple of days, to spell Sally on her vigil beside Janey's bed, but only after I promised to sit out of Janey's direct line of sight. Sally was adamant about that. If Janey woke up, I was to get Sally immediately and not let Janey see me.
I didn't fully understand it, but apparently it was possible for Janey to transfer her hate for Steven and what he had done to her to all things male, including me. It me terribly. Not as much as she was hurting, obviously, but I couldn't understand how I, who cared for her and loved her, could be lumped in with all the rest.
The first night that I sat in for Sally passed uneventfully. Janey didn't stir once. The doctor had been there earlier in the day, along with a rape counselor, and both Janey and Sally were resting comfortably with the aid of mild sedatives. It was a long night, and, I am not ashamed to admit, I took advantage of the solitude and darkness as I shed more than a few tears over the shattered girl.
The next day I asked the counselor if it would be OK to talk to Janey. Since she wasn't responding very much, and would be sedated anyway, would it help or hurt? The harried lady shrugged and said it probably couldn't hurt. As long as she didn't react violently to the sound of my voice, it might actually help. I thought that an odd statement, but I decided to try to talk to Janey during the night.
That night I sat by her bed, a little closer than the night before. I started speaking very softly, hoping not to startle her, which I didn't. I talked to her about lots of things. I tried to go through every memory I had of her, every time we had together. I told her what she was wearing, who she had been with and what was said. I told her of the pride and admiration I felt when I watched her perform at her games. I recounted each and every game and competition where I had seen her. Then I started going through the meals we had shared. And so on. I was amazed at all the details I could recall about this I had watched grow into a woman.
Towards morning, after about seven to eight hours of speaking quietly to her, I sensed a change in her. At first I thought she had moved and was about to go get her Mom, but then I noticed she was still asleep. She seemed to be breathing easier, but how I would I know that? I didn't analyze it a lot, but somehow, I instinctively knew that Janey was going to be OK. It was like I could sense her feelings or her aura or some shit. Weird, I know.
It was during this time of slow recovery that all Hell broke loose. The news of Janey's incident made the local, state, and eventually the national news. It hit the national news wires after the half-assed local police investigation accidentally found that this had been an organized plot involving several other students. Due to the political connections of some of the alleged participant's parents, the local police panicked and the FBI was called in. They used the excuse that this had been an attempted kidnapping.
What the local police had uncovered was that it had been a contest for money. The prize was several thousands of dollars, but with the money these kids had, that was secondary. Winning, at any price, was number one. Apparently, all the male athletes - the jocks - put $100 a piece into a pot at the beginning of each school year. It was not an option. No one was forced to participate in the actual contest, but they didn't stay healthy very long if they didn't contribute. The first jock to fuck all twelve of that year's cheerleaders won the pot.
Janey, being a freshman, was the only conquest left for two of the guys, one of whom was Steven. The other had been making considerable headway with Janey at school, actually going through the motions of courting and wooing her. I had heard his name mentioned in reverent tones at the dinner table, and a telephone call from him was a reason for excited tittering between the and daughter. His apparent progress with the beautiful had infuriated Steven, prompting him to set up the birthday party scam for Janey.
When pressed by the professionals at the FBI, Steven cracked like a true wuss, and gave up all the names of the organizers and the participants. He even had a list on his computer complete with names, dates and if the event had been 'voluntary' or 'involuntary'. There were a remarkable number of involuntary notations, meaning 'rapes', and that had caused an even greater uproar, as most had never been reported. The few that had been reported to the local police or school counselors had been dismissed as post-coital regrets.
But it was not just the involved. There was jealousy on the part of some of the that prompted their participation, too. Steven implicated three of the cheerleaders for setting up the party, providing the booze, and verifying what color Janey had been wearing that night. The girl's were considered to be proof in the case of an involuntary score, and they had been pretty sure Janey was not going to participate voluntarily. So knowing what color or pattern of she was wearing was key to verifying the 'trophy' was from the victim. One cheerleader had walked into the guest bathroom at the party when Janey was peeing, her down around her ankles. Janey was sure the door had been locked, but, as the had OOP'sed her way back out of the bathroom, she had just guessed the lock was broken and had let it pass.
There were arrests and expulsions, some permanent. They involved most of the popular kids, the 'in' crowd. The 'untouchables' had been touched. Hard. Most of them blamed Janey, and they were bitter. Most of them wouldn't graduate, at least, from this High School.
Then, to make a bad situation a catastrophe, someone, probably some low-level employee from the hospital, had leaked Steven's hospital chart to a sleazy tabloid. There wasn't a male in America who didn't wince just a little when his injuries were described in graphic detail. The tabloid shouted it out in full color, with charts and graphs showing the force of impact required to do what had been done to his popped testicle and ruptured penis by her solid kick to his groin. He got a lot of sympathy from that report, as if his injuries somehow made the two of them even. A surprising number of females were sympathetic to him as well.
As more news leaked and broke over the weekend, it grew rapidly into a media spectacle. Janey had withdrawn into herself and didn't know any of this was going on. But Sally knew and I knew. Sally had to take care of Janey and couldn't deal with this. Me? I got mad, then I started kicking ass and taking names. Literally.
We disconnected all the phones but the one in the back guestroom after several threats had been made on Janey's life, not to mention the countless obscene phone calls. The list of the names we collected from the Caller ID on that phone included some very interesting ones. The calls were all recorded on a system similar to the 9-1-1 calls. The FBI was doing voiceprints and matching some surprising names to the voices. Heads were going to roll, some from very high places.
Considering several of the worst calls originated from the telephones of those whose job it was to 'protect and serve' us all, it was a good thing the house was set well back from the road, and had a well-defined perimeter fence around the large property. The governor, a personal friend of mine, brought in the National Guard to 'help' the local police keep an eye on the property after I shared some of the selected names on my Caller ID list with him. The new, heavily armed troops added to the complicated chain-of-command and jurisdictional issues, not to mention the feeding frenzy of the so-called news media, but the phone calls did quiet down a bit.
Then some asshole leaked Janey's name and address to the press along with a home showing her doing one of her trademark kicks. Overnight, she became known as "The high-kicking cheerleader" in the media. Her picture and that clip was played prominently at the top, bottom and in the middle of every broadcast hour, usually accompanied by the music from "The Nutcracker Suite." The heartless jackals were at our gates within minutes of the leak. News, tabloids, paparazzi, women's rights groups, protesters, spectators, helicopters, bullhorns, and, believe it or not, a burning cross. The death-threats on the telephone had been easier to deal with.
Sally came apart. I went ballistic. Not one to sit idly by and watch this thing destroy these two women's lives, I made several calls to some very high-priced lawyers in New York, friends of my father's from his law practice. Every, and I mean every, last fucking one of the registered media in the entire nation received a registered letter from that law firm. The letter explained exactly what would happen and how much it would cost them personally and corporately if Janey's name, likeness, or personal information were broadcast, printed, or hinted after their receipt of that registered letter, even if it was by mistake or oversight.
The letter explained this was not a matter of censorship and that they were free to report on the events of this case, the same as any other similar case. The was, however, a minor with legal rights to anonymity. She had committed no crime, was not charged with one, would not be charged with one, and wished simply to be left alone. To help them remember, the letter also mentioned several similar cases that had not made headlines, but about which the entire media industry was aware, where this particular law firm had won huge awards from overly aggressive 'news' organizations.
You could tell almost to the minute when the letters hit the corporate offices of the major news media and their legal departments confirmed the essential elements of the legal situation. The smarter legal probably pointed out that because of the warning letter, any infraction would likely result in an award far surpassing the previous multimillion dollar amounts. Suddenly, everybody wanted to be somewhere else, in a hurry. Watching their remote broadcast vehicles scramble to leave the front gates reminded me of the Keystone Kops movies.
There were reports of several stations turning off their signals that day in the middle of a broadcast story, leaving several minutes of "Technical Difficulty" screens. Of course, a couple of hard-liners didn't listen, including one sensationalistic talk show host, and surprisingly, one major network. They all went bankrupt from the lawsuits, paying for the legal expenses, and it didn't help when the FCC immediately rescinded their broadcast licenses, effectively stopping any further repetition of Janey's name in the news. The other news agencies were very circumspect after that. It's nice to have a who just happens to be a Federal Judge in Washington, D.C.
I think how I handled that media mess managed to impress Sally, who saw me from a whole new perspective. Sharing your Rolodex is not something you normally do when dating, even after 18 months. The restored calm around the house and city allowed her to gather her wits back together, and she was able to re-focus on helping her get well.
I continued to sit with Janey at night. After the first three nights things had gotten pretty routine. I sat, I talked, and she slept. The next night looked to be going pretty much the same, except I was getting tired. The emotional drain was taking its toll on all of us, even me. The evening started out with me reminiscing. I covered the same topics over and over every night. I figured, what the Hell, she's asleep anyway.
I don't remember dozing off, but I awoke with a start and saw Janey lying there, staring at me. Worse, I was touching her. More accurately, she was holding onto my finger with her hand. I had been having vivid dreams, of happy times, but always under a cloud or shadow.
"Oh, you're awake. I'll go get your Mom."
In response, I got a quick shake of her head and a tightened grasp on my finger. She apparently didn't want me to go. I wracked my groggy brain for what to do.
"OK. Do you need anything like a drink of water or something to eat?"
She dismissed the idea with another quick head shake.
"I'm sorry to wake you up. Was I snoring?" I tried a feeble laugh, but Janey just kept looking at me. Now that I looked closer, I noticed she had a wary look on her face. Not knowing what else to do, I just sat quietly with her. It was still early; Sally wouldn't be awake for hours.
"I thought you were mad at me, but you're not, are you." It was a statement.
Those were her first words to me in nearly a week. I nearly fell out of the chair. "Why would I be mad at you?"
"I dunno. But you were mad, really mad, at someone, weren't you?"
I thought back on the idiots that had surrounded the house and hounded Sally and me. Janey had been out of it during that time. How could she have known?
"Some people were bothering us a little. They're gone now," I responded.
A while later, "Do you really like that blue outfit I wore to school last week? I think it makes me look old."
Now I was really confused. In all my ramblings to her the past four nights I had avoided any reference to her appearance, or being sexy, or her body. That was on the advice of the rape counselor. She mentioned that rape victims take a tremendous blow to their self-esteem and that I shouldn't talk about her appearance or anything to do with her body.
However, I had been dreaming of her in that blue outfit just before I woke up. It was her dark blue blazer with a matching pleated skirt that made her look like a smart professional businesswoman. I had had a dream of her standing in front of a crowd, giving a speech or lecture. What I remember was feeling proud of her and everything she had accomplished. I had never talked to her about it, though.
"Oh, was I talking in my sleep?"
She gave me that puzzled look, like I didn't know something I should have, that look teenagers reserve for their ignorant and siblings, then said, "Well, kind of."
Janey sat up in bed, propping her pillows behind her. I didn't try to help her, as that would have meant touching her. As normal as she sounded, I didn't think she was ready for that. Unusual for her, she pulled the covers clear up to her chin, covering her body completely. When she was settled in an upright position, she did slip her hand out of the covers and recapture my finger, so I stayed where I was. We didn't talk anymore. We just sat in silence, each of us with our own thoughts.
Sally found us like that in the morning, and immediately burst into tears. They were happy ones, though.
Chapter 3
I was still awake when Sally gently lifted the covers and slid her naked body underneath. It was our first 'normal' night in over a week, with both of us in bed at the same time. Janey was sleeping comfortably now, and with their link, Sally would be awake at the first sign of trouble.
At first, Sally stayed completely on the far side of the bed, not wanting contact, or perhaps not wanting to wake me. After restlessly tossing about for a while, unable to get comfortable, or maybe just making sure I was awake, she edged closer, finally moving her gorgeous ass into me 'spoon fashion.' Now, under normal circumstances, when she came to bed naked and backed into me like that, it was a signal for a night of wild sex. Even though we had gone a long week without any sort of sexual relief, somehow I didn't think that was what she wanted tonight, and, fortunately, my dick behaved for once and didn't try to poke into her uncharacteristically unreceptive body. Self- preservation runs deep in my family.
I figured with all the bouncing around she had been doing that she wanted me to be awake, so I moved my arm over her and drew her close. Her large, firm tits, normally so convenient in that position, went unmolested as we cuddled. She gave a deep sigh and snuggled firmly into my body, savoring the simple skin- to-skin contact she shared with me all along her back from shoulders to toes. I expected more tears. She just sighed.
Sally was still in crisis mode and her mind was going a thousand miles an hour. So was mine. Several minutes - hours? - passed in silence.
"Larry? You awake?"
"Uh-huh." I hesitated, not knowing which direction to go. I took the safe route.
"So do you think Janey's going to be OK?"
I could feel her nod. "Yes. The doctors said by Monday she could go back to school with full activities. The counselor agreed too. She said the sooner she goes back the better."
"Monday? So soon? But...?" I let the unspoken question hang there. She didn't answer it.
Sally was quiet for a long time. I had almost given up continuing the conversation and, in all truth, I was content just to hold her. Skin on skin was something I could get used to, especially when it was hers and mine. Under the circumstances, the closeness had a healing, bonding effect on me. I hoped she was feeling the same things. Comfortable with these sensations, I almost missed it when she continued.
"Larry, you know how much I like sex."
Huh? This came from out the blue, from left field, from nowhere. My bewilderment must have been obvious, even in the dark. I could almost feel her grinning at my confusion.
"You must have realized by now, Larry, that I have a much higher than normal sexual appetite. I always have. I have been aware of it since I first learned and girls were different. It was difficult, especially when I was Janey's age, but I never let it control me, or determine my actions. Influence, yes, sometimes unwisely, but determine, no. Sex has been one of the biggest joys of my life.
"Janey is my in every way. I haven't encouraged or discouraged her sexuality. I didn't need to. She has masturbated since age 5, the same time I started. However, she has been aware from the beginning that other people wouldn't understand if she involved them in her activities and has always acted responsibly. She was - she is a good kid. She hasn't given me a bit of trouble in that way, and I always assumed she would grow up and have as rewarding a sex life as I have.
"But now? Oh, God, Larry, now I'm so afraid for her. Maybe it's weird, but she and I have a link or something between us, especially when we are close to each other. I can't explain it, exactly. It's like we can sense each other's moods and feelings. It's not mind reading, exactly. But I know when she's horny or happy, and she senses when I am sad, and how very happy you have made me." She stopped and brought her hands up between her breasts, capturing my hand between hers.
"The Janey I had 'felt' before is gone. Until today, no, it was last night sometime; all I got when I was near her was fear, fear of sex, fear of men, fear of herself and her sexual feelings, and tremendous guilt. It's as if she thinks she is responsible for what happened.
"I know right now she is healing physically and that she'll get over most of the pain in time. But her first sexual experience with another person was so traumatic, so horrendous! I'm afraid she'll never let a near her again, that she will never experience this, that she will never let anyone close enough to know love." She hugged my hands to her again to show me what she meant. "I'm afraid she will never have the courage to meet new people, to trust them, to venture out into the exciting places in life. That she will always be suspicious of people and that it will turn her into an ugly person. 'Ugly on the inside becomes ugly on the outside.'"
I let her talk. I didn't understand some of what she was saying, especially about that link thing and all, but I knew enough to keep quiet. Finally the silence got to me, and I had to open my big fat mouth.
"So is there anything we can do to help her get over this?" That's right. I said "we." Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She seemed to give a start, as if 'doing' something about it had not occurred to her. Or maybe it was that 'we' would do it together. I don't know. I do know I could sense the sudden change in her attitude and the change in the direction of her thoughts, even without being able to see her face. Her whole body radiated excitement as she grasped on to this tiny ray of hope.
"Well, what I think she needs is someone who can teach her, be patient with her, let her be the instigator while gently encouraging her exploration of her sexuality until her fear of sex is gone. It would have to be someone older; someone she trusts, someone more experienced. Someone she knows already."
"Where would you find someone like that?" I asked. "It doesn't sound like they would be listed in the Yellow Pages."
I just about said something about a particular High School teacher who came to mind. We had discussed his known proclivities for before, but the fucking teacher's union was strong in this state and he just kept on molesting - all right, allegedly molesting, girls. I also didn't think a 'funny' remark would have been the right thing to say at that particular moment. Given what she said next and what happened as a result, I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had broken the mood at that moment. But we'll never know, will we?
"I don't know. Right now, you're the only I know of who I trust enough to...Oh, my! Larry!" her voice trailed off, as the solution became as obvious to her as my sudden erection jabbing into her ass.
Let me explain a few things. First, Sally is, as far as I am concerned, the perfect woman. Not just for me. She is THE perfect woman. I personally know of several other red-blooded males who agree, and who are extremely jealous of my relationship with her. Comments about giving a left nut in exchange for an evening with her, etc. might be inappropriate given the circumstances, but hey, it is the thought that counts, right?
Sally is smart, witty, loving, caring, giving, yada yada yada. Don't misunderstand. I don't mean to trivialize those attributes; I just need to save several megabytes of hard disk space by not listing each and every one of them. I consider things like honesty, integrity, and trust to be among her best qualities, but, for the moment, her physical attributes are more appropriate to consider.
Sally stands 5'2" in her feet. Those delicate feet grace the ends of two of the shapeliest legs God could ever dream of forming, if God ever dreamed at all, much less of female anatomy. At the top of her thighs, she is both trim and voluptuous at the same time. In front, her mound doesn't mound at all. Her stomach is hard and flat. Not a bulge, not a wrinkle in that silky smooth expanse of skin, even when bending over. Her hips flare slightly, and narrow to a waspish waist. And that's after one birth!
From behind, she looks slightly more Reubinesque. You've heard it said before, but in this case it is true: She has an ass to die for: high, tight and firm, yet soft to the touch with resilient, fully rounded, mouth watering mounds.
I remember vividly the first time that I had seen her near naked ass revealed to me in all of its splendor. She was in a thong bikini. We had been dating for about a month and things were going well between us. We were both anxious about out first sexual encounter, but realized that what was building between us was special. We both wanted to give it time to grow at its own pace. Not ready for an overnighter, well, I was ready, I just didn't want her to reject me this early on. Anyway, I invited her to a friend's secluded place on the island for the day.
When I arrived to pick her up on the appointed day, she skipped out to the car, not waiting for me to get out and come to the door as I usually did. Stopping by the door on my side of the car she slid off her thin cover- up, posed for me once or twice sexily, and then twirled around.
I must have choked or something, as she stopped halfway around and looked back inquisitively at me over her shoulder. My leering, lusting expression would have gotten me fired for sexual harassment in any office in America but the Oval Office, and I blushed, embarrassed at my obvious lust and arousal. My cock, earlier content to rest in the confines of my own suit, broke ranks and showed its swollen head over the waistband, high enough she could see it from where she stood.
My jaw moved, and I gestured apologetically, convinced she would bolt for the nearest policeman. Her spontaneous laughter and pleasure at my visible appreciation of her appearance and my obvious desire for her body saved the moment, making it one of the most special memories we shared.
I did wait until we got to the beach house, but I had to fuck her in the car before we even got to the sand. I couldn't walk I was so hard. When I think back, I didn't fuck her. We fucked each other. The fucking was more than mutual. We did it again on the blanket - before lunch. Twice more after lunch and a couple of times on the way back to the car. It was a long beach. Every time she walked in front of me in that tiny black thong bottom, I got rock hard. She knew it, too, enjoying her affect on me as much as I did.
That night at my apartment she came to bed in just those bikini bottoms, walking back and forth several times as she prepared for bed, dancing and teasing me to a hardness I had never thought possible this side of concrete.
That was the first time we did it anal. It wasn't the last. She wore that suit often.
So much for her ass.
If anything, Sally felt her were 'smallish'. They were nowhere near "small," filling her C-sized bra cups to overflowing. She liked the tight feeling, the bounce and jiggle a tight garment gave her chest, so she wore them that way. However, she didn't need to wear one at all. Her rode high, and were only slightly more rounded on the bottom when loosened from their confinement. Perky light pink nipples surrounded by darker rosy aureoles a little larger than a quarter. Those sensitive nubs would stiffen to hardened turgid buttons a little less that « inch long when she was aroused, which was often. Oddly, one of her nipples, the left, had been pierced at some time prior to our relationship. One of her mysteries, as yet unsolved.
She had hair, unusual green eyes - Irish green, not hazel - that didn't miss a moment of life, creamy smooth skin that tanned in two seconds and held it for months. When Sally learned of my penchant for tan lines, those three tiny white triangles of untagged skin over her nipples and lips, she developed a seemingly permanent set of distinct tan lines. I have always preferred white meat over dark, and I proved it to her the night she unveiled her new look, but it took hours and hours until she was fully convinced. I didn't mind at all.
Even with her killer body, it was her face I loved the most. I could watch her for hours, and did so as often as I could. She wasn't embarrassed at the attention I paid to her, even when she learned I got hard as iron simply by looking at her. She would just give me a knowing smile and laugh. Depending on the circumstances, she would alternatively torture me, making me even harder by flaunting her body, or she might relieve me with her hand or mouth. She was a sexy, beautiful woman, breathtaking, heart-stoppingly gorgeous, and generous to a fault.
She had one special look that could pierce my darkest mood and fire my blood as no one had ever done before. She would kind of a look up at me through her eyelashes with her face tilted slightly down and a little to one side. Her pouty lower lip would glisten with just the tip of her tongue showing, an innocent smile teasing the corners of her moist lips. I would melt. I would give diamonds, rubies, and my kingdom for that smile.
Once, when she looked at me like that, her tongue wasn't showing. Instead, she had just the knob of my swollen cock in her mouth. We had made a bet - I was still under the mistaken impression I had some control in this relationship - that she could make me with no hands, no bobbing, no sucking, no tonguing. Just her mouth. In under a minute.
She won. I didn't last 30 seconds. She just looked up at me with those incredible green eyes, batted them once or twice, wantonly winked at me, and had to swallow a gallon of my juice. Which she did, laughing with me. As the loser, I 'had' to attend the opera with her for six months.
That's the first thing I needed to explain.
The second is that Janey is all that, just younger and maybe a bit firmer in one or two places. Hell, she's almost 20 years younger, and, not to say that Sally looks or acts her age, Janey has the advantage and the allure of youth; more energy, more curiosity, more innocence.
Of course, I have to assume she looks the same naked as her mother. I have never seen anything but her legs and arms bare, and those matched up pretty close. I knew the two of them traded clothes all the time and Sally would only out the smallest of Janey's tops. Those tight ones happened to be my personal favorites, especially the bare midriff tank tops made of thin material. I checked the label for the size on one after it was carefully discarded for the night and purchased Sally several of her own for us. I replaced several of them as they kept being ripped off her whenever she wore them. I think Sally was secretly pleased with her overall effect on me, as she wore them often, many times taunting me in public by revealing she was wearing one under a sweater or sweatshirt.
But I digress. Although I had noticed and admired Janey, I had never thought of her in a sexual sense. Sally was all I wanted, all I needed, and Janey was a minor, a minor, for sure, but still underage. Let's face it, Sally was all I could handle, and besides, why spoil a terrific thing? On top of that, I didn't have all that much contact with Janey as I wasn't staying overnights that often. She had her life and Sally and I were building ours. I hoped, kind of, that she would be a bigger part of my life with Sally at some point, but like that? Holy Shit! No way!
So there we were, lying in bed, Sally's wonderfully firm, warm ass nestled in my crotch, talking quietly, dealing with this crisis in an adult and reasoned manner. And suddenly this of my cock disappearing into Janey's soft, warm, moist mouth springs unbidden into my head. It was clearly an inappropriate moment for a hard-on, but my pecker seemed suddenly to have developed a suicidal mind of its own. Instant woody, and it jabbed forcefully into Sally's ass, pressing directly into, but not penetrating her asshole. Thank God for small favors. Hey, how about an 'On/Off' switch on these things next time You design something? OK, Big Fella?
Somehow that vividly erotic image, and the multitude of others that quickly joined it in my brain of that vibrant teen in various sexual positions, invigorated my organ. It was a most inopportune time, considering she had just been assaulted.
I knew I was in deep shit.
There was no way for her to miss my arousal or to not know what had caused it. We had both realized the obvious, albeit ludicrous, solution at the same time. We just had different images of it. If I hadn't been so pre-occupied with the erotic visions filling my head, I might have tried to cover, scrabble together some romantic reason for my arousal, and make it perhaps a little better. As it was, I knew she knew. As I realized what had happened, time stopped dead while I waited for her to do or say something.
I almost cried out when she shifted her body away from me, leaving my erection bobbing freely in the space between us.
"Well. I see you like them young." Her voice was sounded almost bitter, hurt.
With that, she moved farther away from me. It was the first night we spent together, apart. I didn't like it.
I felt like dead walking. Walking in deep shit.
Chapter 4
The smell of fresh coffee and bacon filtered into the room late the next morning. I surveyed the room. I was at Sally's, so it hadn't all been a bad dream. Damn! I raised the sheets and checked my equipment. I breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn't pulled a Bobbit. In fact, it looked and felt as if my erection had never gone down. The few personal items I kept at her place were still hanging in the closet and sitting unbroken on the dressing table. So far, so good. No open suitcase for me to pack and leave.
I reviewed the final events of the previous evening in my head. Same conclusion, I had really fucked up this time.
The wafting aroma of a hearty breakfast had me confused, however. Sally and Janey were extremely health conscious and didn't eat a lot of eggs and bacon, or as Janey called them, 'cholesterol and nitrates in non-unsaturateds.' It's what she meant when she said 'CNN.'
Under normal circumstances, I had been able to associate these particular smells with the hearty breakfasts we would have following an exceptional night of wild passionate sex. Or of nights filled with passion and romance, not just fucking and sucking, as had been the case more often than not of late.
I slipped on my robe and walked out to the kitchen. On the way, I went past Janey's door, which was open. The bedroom doors in this house were always open, even during sex. It took a bit of getting used to, as Sally was extremely vocal during intercourse, announcing her pleasures with descriptive words and sounds. Privacy was for the bathroom, unless, of course she was horny. Janey respected the privacy visually, but I wondered how much she heard.
I peeked in on Janey, to check on her, of course. She was still fast asleep, but curled into a protective fetal position, as if hugging herself. I continued on, following my nose to the kitchen.
At the door to the kitchen I paused and reconnoitered. Two place settings, both with coffee cups, one of them was the cup reserved for my use, another good sign. Fresh squeezed orange juice, a special treat. Sally hated the work it took. I cautiously cleared my throat, ready to duck at the first sign of flying utensils.
"Good morning, lover. Hungry?"
'Lover?' Me? I quickly checked behind me to see if anyone else was there. Nope, just me.
"Uh, sure. You know I like a big breakfast..."
I bit my tongue, as I had almost added 'after a night of great sex.' I edged closer to the table, still watching for flying pottery or hot grease.
Sally was standing at the stove, wearing her 'I just had another night of great sex' robe. It was the silk one and was short enough you could just see the bottom swells of her ass cheeks. When it was cinched tight with the silk rope belt, like it was now, you could see everything, back and front. Usually that meant 'breakfast can wait, shove the dishes on the floor and do me hard and fast on the table.' I had no idea what it meant this morning. I took another cautious step towards the table.
She watched my progress with a strange expression on her face. It was more a wry smile than anything, but there was a definite element of sadness in it to, or seriousness, maybe.
"Sit." It was gentle, like the final concession in an argument, but it was an order, nonetheless.
I sat, trembling slightly.
She came over with two plates, business-like. They were hot out of the oven. She put them down, poured the coffee and sat down with me at the table. She then proceeded to push her food all around her plate until it was a congealed mass in the center. It looked just like my plate.
I had been watching her fidget for the longest time. I had only known her to fidget once before, and that was the first night she asked me to stay over with her when Janey was there, too. Indecision was not something I was used to from her. She finally noticed me watching her and blushed. That surprised me.
"Is something on your mind, Sally?"
"Yes. No. Yes. But I don't know how to start."
This was even more uncharacteristic of her, and immediately I misunderstood. "Look, if it's about last night, I'm terribly sorry. I don't know what happened that it popped up like that. I was tired, we were both stressed out because of what - you know, all that happened. And it's been a long time since we, well, did anything together to relieve the stress. I swear to you with all my heart, soul and body, I have never thought of Janey in that way before. Cut it off and toss it out if I'm lying! I don't know what came over me."
I hesitated, choked up a bit. "Just don't make me leave you."
My eyes started to water. Hey, it was an emotional moment. I was really sincere, and I was sincerely afraid she would never let me see her again. I was prepared to continue to beg, plead, scream, grovel or whatever it took to obtain her forgiveness. Fortunately she took pity on me and stopped me.
"That's very sweet of you. I'll bet I could almost get you to grovel on the floor, couldn't I?"
I nodded. My heart sank to my knees. I wasn't all that good at begging, really.
"And I wouldn't think of cutting it off. It has - you 'both' have brought me too much happiness and pleasure. That's sort of what I wanted to talk to you about."
She chewed on the next line for a long time.
"I want you to teach Janey about sex."
My ears were playing tricks on me, but my prick had heard and was rising once again to the challenge. It popped its head out between the flaps of my robe, as if wanting to participate in the conversation. It was so hard it hurt. I was going to have to do something about these uncontrollable erections. More sex more often, maybe?
Sally looked at me, waiting for a response, other than the one sticking out of my robe. I think she wanted something verbal, some response from the cognitive side of my brain.
"You're serious." It was a statement, not a question. A thousand thoughts whipped through my head, with the foremost being the jolting realization that my position in this house was not as precarious as I had at first thought. In fact, I suddenly felt pretty damn smug. But I wanted to see how much it meant to her.
"You want me, a much man, to teach your underage daughter about sex? Do you mean teach, as in 'tell her about it,' or teach, as in 'actually have sex with?'"
Her hands over her beautiful face muffled her answer, as if trying to hide from the absurdity of this conversation, to blank it from her mind.
"What? I didn't quite catch that." So I lied, big deal. I had heard just fine. I just wanted her to repeat it for posterity, and to make really, really, really sure.
"Have sex with. I want you to have sex with my under- aged teenage and show her how wonderful it can be. Whatever it takes to do that. Satisfied?" She had enunciated her answer very carefully, as if speaking to an idiot or a foreigner. No offense intended. Everyone does it to foreign visitors. She glared at me across the table.
"No."
She looked at me disbelieving, almost in shock.
"Check that. Let me clarify. I mean, 'No, I'm not satisfied with your answer'. Don't take that as a 'No' to the sex part. Yet."
I was grinning at her like an idiot, which I was. I had the upper hand for the first time and she knew it. She also didn't like it and knew I was going to rub it in. Good.
"How much sex?"
She glared at me. I kept going.
"What kind of sex? How often? Is she on the pill? You know I don't use condoms..."
I looked down and then grinned up at her.
"...They don't fit very well, as you well know."
God, this was fun! I had her squirming, dangling at the end of a short line, the hook set deep.
She actually blushed again. This was amazing. When she answered, it was not what I expected.
"Do whatever she wants, whatever you want. Just make her enjoy it. No, wait. Now let me clarify. 'Help' her enjoy it. Don't 'make' her do anything."
She looked up at me, pleading with her eyes. Damn, she played unfair!
"Help me, Larry. Help me help her. Please, Larry. I don't know what to do. I just don't know..."
The tears started then.
Leave it to a woman to cry just when it was getting fun. Hell, even I'm not that insensitive, and I had halfway thought she was kidding. She wasn't. She was serious. I felt like the schmuck I had been acting like.
I reached over and took both of her hands in one of mine. I wanted to stop her wringing them, if not to comfort her. She was clearly nervous and scared I would turn her down. While doing untold good for my ego, her request and the implicit trust it placed in me scared me absolutely shitless. I realized very clearly that no matter which way I went, there was a more than even chance I could lose it all. I didn't think I could take that.
I was quiet for a long time, silently holding her hands. She wisely let me think of exactly what I wanted to say. For once.
"First off, I am sincerely sorry about my physical reaction last night. You are the only woman for me, and you have been the only one since that first moment I laid eyes on you. Please believe me."
She nodded. "I know. But it surprised me. Your reaction seemed somehow, well, inappropriate. I know she's attractive and that she's growing up - and out - very fast, but I never sensed you had those kinds of thoughts about her. If I had, whether it was true or not, you would have never seen us again.
"And I do believe you think you love me. Geeze, you've asked me to marry you enough times."
Ouch. That one hurt. All right, so I had proposed to her within 5 minutes of seeing her the first time. We had barely been introduced and it popped out of my mouth. Funny thing is, we both knew I was dead serious. I had cut down my barrage of proposals a lot in the last 6 months, mostly just begging with her during, before and after sex, of which we had a lot. She didn't seem to mind. She just never accepted. At least now I knew she had heard me. Maybe one more shot at it? I was in a good position here, after all.
"Second, she will have to approach me. I won't seduce her."
As she nodded her agreement, a tear trickled down her cheek.
"Third, if it means any chance of losing you, the answer is 'No.' I will not risk that."
Another nod, more tears.
"Last, I don't want this to create trouble between you two. I'm not so vain as to think I could turn the head of a pretty teenager, but if you two are sharing the same on a regular basis..."
I saw her flinch at that comment.
"...there is bound to be an emotional bond that grows between Janey and me as well, maybe even a little competition. What happens if she falls in love with me, or thinks she is? What if she tries to displace you in my heart? Can you deal with that? You'll have to, as I don't think I could stop her without crushing her spirit even more than it is now. I won't risk that, either. She has been too much."
That last was said almost with vehemence.
A grin spread across her face. She realized I had all but agreed, and was relieved. And she had thought that far ahead to contemplate the possible complications and she was not concerned. That part she could deal with, or would if and when it happened.
"If you think I am going to lose my to some fresh- faced chippy, you had better think again!"
She looked me directly in the eyes, grinning smugly.
"I've got tricks up my sleeve you haven't even dreamed about, buster. Experience will beat out youthful exuberance any day."
God, she was beautiful. But I still had the upper hand. I wanted something from her, something big. But I couldn't make her just give it to me because of the situation. She would resent it later if not now, and so would I, really. I had to win it fair and square.
"OK. But only on one condition."
She paled. She hated conditions. "What is it?"
"I want to win the bet."
For a minute she had a puzzled look on her face. She had no idea where I was going. Then she realized I had said 'the' bet. She grew more perplexed.
"Huh? What makes you think you can win now? Remember the last time? What's your record, 30 seconds?" She eyed the silent helmeted observer peeking out from my robe. She reached over and lightly stroked the dark head with the tip of her finger. I almost shot my load then.
"Or do you just want a blow job? I'll give you that right now, no charge!"
In a shaky voice I responded, "I can win. I have to. And I want to raise the stakes."
"Oh, really? Remind me of the original bet."
"We, you bet that you could make me in less than one minute using only your mouth, no hands, no tongue, no suction, no motion."
"And the stakes?"
"If you won, which you did, I was to accompany you to the opera for six months, my treat, which I have done. If I won, which I didn't, I was to get to shave your pussy bald, and help you keep it that way for six months."
"What do you want to raise the stakes to?"
"Same stakes as before. Plus, if you win, I do anything you decide."
Sally was quiet for a minute, and then she spoke, "At first I thought to myself, 'Big deal. He loses and he gets to fuck my after taking me to the opera.' But..." she paused for effect, "...anything?"
I nodded.
She paused again. "Anything? You would never, ever ask me to marry you again, if that's what I wanted?"
I paled. I could even hear the italics in her voice. She knew me too well. I nodded my agreement. Slowly.
"Those are pretty big stakes. You must really want something big. What do I have to do for you if you win on a fluke? Come on, what do you want, Stud?"
In answer, I said nothing. I simply played with the shiny golden ring on the little finger of my left hand. It was a simple band, but designed for a much smaller hand. One more her size. It had been there almost 18 months, in constant readiness. I was ready if she ever changed her mind and said "Yes" to one of my proposals.
She followed my gaze to my hands. She saw the ring.
"Oh. Larry, I... we... Oh, shit!"
I waited for the explosion that never came. I waited for her to turn down the bet. She had turned them down before when she felt the stakes were too high. I waited for...
"Five minutes. I get five minutes to make you cum."
"YES!"
It was a shout of spontaneous joy after a lifetime of hopelessness. My heart leaped in my chest. She had agreed to the bet! We were simply negotiating the details. I had not dared hope she would agree. I had only wanted to get it back on the table and move her closer to what I considered the inevitable. But, shit, 5 minutes. I was not made of stone. We had proven that the last time!
"I mean, No! Not 5 minutes. 90 seconds," I countered.
"Four minutes."
"Two."
"Three." It was all the concession I was going to get and we both knew it. God help me.
"Done..."
Chapter 5
"... But I get to make one condition to be specified only after you agree. Take it or leave it."
I was praying she would leave it. There was no fucking way I could last that long in that moist steaming cauldron of her sexy mouth, so hot and moist, tight... Stop it, you idiot! You'll lose before you start!
"OK. When do you want to lose?"
Oh, shit I'm a goner. Maybe if I go jack off for a month solid...
"Right now. But I can't lose."
Her head snapped up so fast, I thought she would get whiplash. She knew, she could bloody see the condition I was in and what condition my cock was in. She could see it throbbing, lusting at her. She had seen me almost lose it when she had merely stroked it with her fingertip. We hadn't had intercourse for more than a week, because of the last week's events. I was loaded for bear and we both knew it. Shit, it was already glistening with oozing pre-cum in anticipation of her warm mouth engulfing it. Soft and warm, gently surrounding the throbbing head, even if only for one brief moment... STOP IT.
She got up without another word and moved beside my chair. I turned my chair so she was between my legs. All she had to do was kneel down, lean forward and win the bet. She started to kneel down. I had to delay her for a minute. Focus on something else. I looked around the kitchen frantically for a diversion.
"Wait. I had a condition."
She grinned at me, confident, too confident. I had to change our positions, somehow. Re-establish the smugness I had felt earlier, sort of.
"You're going to blindfold me?"
She batted her eyes. She knew me too well. But it did give me an idea. Maybe...
In answer, I reached up and loosened the black silk rope holding her robe closed. I pulled it free from the belt loops.
"Turn around."
She did with saucy flip of her hips, a dare, a challenge.
I made a loop at one end of belt and slipped it over her wrist. I pulled that wrist behind her into the small of her back. She resisted slightly as I caught her other hand and gently pulled it back behind her. She was strangely quiet and there was a visible tremor to her whole body. The sauce had mellowed.
"Please, not this..."
It was a barely audible whisper. But she stopped before she finished.
"What did you say?"
She cleared her throat.
"Nothing. Just a bad memory."
I secured the two wrists together behind her. There was rope left over, and I figured 'What the hell. Let's go for broke.' I wound the rope up and around her forearms to her elbows, pulling each wind a little tighter, drawing her elbows towards each other. In testament to her flexibility, when I finished, they were touching. She had not made another sound. I touched her hip to indicate she could face me.
"Oh... My... God!"
I was unprepared for the sight I beheld. Tying her hands behind her back and forcing her elbows together had the glorious effect of forcing her chest out through the open robe. They were standing proudly up thrust, firm and quivering with her - what - fear? Anger? She was definitely shaking.
Whether it was the conversation, the cool air conditioning, or (dare I hope?) her reaction to bondage, her nipples betrayed her arousal as did the distinctive odor of her visibly dripping pussy. Even her swollen clit was visible. I had about as much of the upper hand as I was ever going to get with this wonderful woman. It was now or never.
I set my watch on chronograph and zeroed it out. I placed it on the arm of the chair facing her so we could both see it. She kneeled down in front of me. Instead of initiating the bet, as she usually did, she waited for my signal.
I nodded to her. "Now."
I waited until she had the head fully in her mouth before I started the timer. One of her eyebrows raised in a silent question.
I answered her with, "Just so there is no question when I win."
I sounded way more confident that I felt.
As she couldn't nod without defaulting, she merely lowered the eyebrow and closed her eyes. She shut me out, trying to help me win! Damn it all and fuck that shit. I got mad.
"I'll call the whole thing off right now if you don't try to win!" I snapped at her. I reached down and lifted her mouth off my cock.
"I-I-I'm ccccuuuummminnnggg," she gasped, visibly shuddering.
In a flash, ashamed, I was beside her on the floor, supporting her sagging body. Her breath stabilized after a long while, evening out as she lay heavily against my chest.
"Here, let me untie you. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to tie it so tight. It was stupid."
She shook her head, stopping me.
"No. Wait! Yes, but later. It's just been a long time since..." Again she didn't finish.
"Want to tell me about it?" I asked.
"Later, Lover. Damn, you're good..." Her sense of humor was back, anyway.
Catching her breath, she asked in a strangely submissive voice, "May I try again?"
I swore there was an unspoken word at the end of that sentence. Something like "Sir," or "Master." Or maybe I was dreaming.
"You sure you're up to it?"
She snorted. "Are you? Oh, yes. I can see you are..."
I sat back up in the chair and scooted my butt forward to the edge of the seat. My iron hard prick stood straight up from my groin, within easy reach of her mouth. Again she waited for my signal.
I reset the clock to zero. Her eyes widened. And I thought I saw a malicious twinkle in them. Good, at least she was getting back to normal.
"Now."
As before, she leaned forward. Knowing I wouldn't start the clock until she had the whole head in her mouth, she took her time getting it all in. And, if the clock wasn't running, the restrictions of the bet didn't apply. She kissed and lathered and and bobbed and tongued all around the tip of my cock, driving me fucking ape-shit. This was the competitor I knew and loved. But two could play that game.
Very smoothly I moved my shin to place my foot to about where I guessed her crotch would be. When her mouth was centered over my prick, I moved my foot up so it just caressed her pussy. Surprised at the sudden contact, she gasped, opening her mouth. I thrust up with my hips and her lips engulfed the entire head.
I started the clock.
She did her damnedest to win this time. Her sexy eyes never left mine. She had that sultry look down cold, and was beating down my resistance with those devilish dancing green eyes.
At 30 seconds I was sweating. The heat generated by her mouth was incredible. I could feel her heartbeat and mine both in the head of my cock. The more I concentrated on the twin beats, the closer they got.
At 45 seconds our heartbeats synchronized. I tried to blank my mind, but all I could see was Janey in her mother's place, kneeling submissively before me, her lips nestled at the base of my cock.
I quit trying to blank my mind. The way I was going that was a sure-fire way to loose.
At 60 seconds, trickles of sweat coalesced and trailed down my chest and pooled in my navel. This was more effective than a sauna!
Her eyes suddenly began dancing, sparkling with a vitality I had never seen in her before. When my foot, still directly under her crotch, got wet, I knew she had again. But she hadn't defaulted by moving, moaning or sucking. I glanced at the clock. She had at 90 seconds. We're only halfway. God! I'll never make it! Her eyes flicked to the clock with mine, then snapped back to capture them again. I never thought of looking away. I should have.
If I had thought she was trying before, I was badly mistaken. Her current efforts at seductive 'come hither' looks were beyond anything I had seen before. The looks she gave me for the next 90 seconds would have seduced a statue.
She almost won. She took advantage of my foot below her and slowly lowered her body, capturing my foot with her sopping cunt. Her only reaction when I wiggled my big toe was to slightly close her eyes, shudder a bit and shift so it wasn't directly over her clit. I shifted it back, grinning at her and began a steady rotation of my toe over her button.
With my foot sort of trapped beneath her, she slowly turned her body without moving her head, letting her stiff nipples scratch along the hairs of my thigh, one after the other. I'll bet you never considered your legs as an erogenous zone. I sure hadn't. I do now.
The ends of the armrests on my chair snapped off suddenly in my death grip as the timer crawled towards the 3-minute mark. My eyes darted back and forth between her eyes and the timer like a trapped animal.
2:58
I could have recited every poem I have ever learned in the space of time from then until the end. And I was a poetry minor in college.
2:59
God could have done all 7 days of creation here. Twice.
3:00
3:01
3:02
I didn't cum. As surprised as I was, Sally was even more so. For the first time I saw something in her eyes that bordered on true respect. She respected control, especially the ability to control one's sexual urge. She'd had to do so all her life. Her did as well. I may have been the first person, male person, anyway, she could truly respect in that way.
3:30
She was now waiting patiently at my feet, a stillness about her. She had lost, but knew I still had something to prove. She sat there, a beautiful woman, hands bound behind her, quietly fucking herself on my toe and caressing my thighs with her nipples, waiting for me; for what I wanted. I felt her dripping steadily down my foot, the contractions on my toes delightful. A pool of her juices was forming at my heel.
4:15
Her mouth must have been sore by now. But she had never moved, or tongued throughout. Still I lasted. She waited with me, for me.
5:00
Chapter 6
"Now!"
It was a quiet command to her, as well as a warning to her that I was going to flood her mouth. We came together. I had so much stored pumping into her oral cavity, it flowed out her nose. It dripped to the floor beneath my chair.
I sat back in the chair, and placed the broken armrests on the table. I would fix them later. Right now, I was totally drained, exhausted, exhilarated. I had won! I didn't even want to think about what would have happened if I had lost. I had won! We would marry.
I understood she had not agreed to a time frame and I grinned, thinking of the next bet we would make in order to set the date. I was about to mention this to her, but stopped as I watched her thoroughly clean my semi-erect cock with her tongue. She then bent completely over and licked my foot clean. She proceeded from there to lick up the drops of cum, hers and mine, that had fallen to the kitchen floor.
Sitting back on her heels when she finished, she waited for me to speak, but I was speechless. I was not used to this behavior, had never seen it before, but was damned sure I could get used to it real quick. If I could just figure out what was going on.
A slight motion of my hand, and she slipped up and settled on my lap, facing me, one leg out to either side of my hips. My stiffening organ nestled against her gaping cunt, and as I hardened and lengthened, she shifted back and forth so that it grew up into her. As it stiffened, I felt her contract almost continuously, her green eyes now lidded.
I lifted her knees, bringing her feet off the floor. This forced her to settle completely on my cock with her entire weight. A tremendous sob tore from her as she gasped out my name.
"Oh, Laaarry!" The pressure her muscles exerted on me felt like she was going to snap my cock off at the base. As she slowly relaxed from this major climax, she tipped forward and nestled her face in the crook of my neck. For a while I thought she was asleep until I felt her lips gently working.
Damn! A hickey! That mischievous minx! I had an important meeting on Friday with a new client.
Without thinking, I swatted at her ass with my open hand. It was just a light slap, honest! I was not prepared for her response. It was as if every muscle in her body, including those gripping my prick for dear life, contracted at their greatest strength. Her legs shot rigid out behind the chair. Her back arched even more, offering her glorious to my mouth. This seizure/climax seemed to last forever, until she could finally gasp out a plea.
"God! Shit! Fuck! Oh, God! Please, Larry. Stop for a minute. Uuuhhh. We have, uuuhhh, to talk."
I stopped toying with her reluctantly. I waited for her to get off my prick. I waited for her to ask to be untied. Her arms must be aching by now. I waited.
She didn't move off my staff, nor did she ask to be released. She jumped right in, no hesitation this time.
"My last boyfriend... You have to know... He Janey.... And me...."
She was speaking in gasps. I shushed her, bringing my lips to hers. She stayed right there in my face, resting her forehead on mine, her nose smashed against mine. I traced her lips with my tongue, tasting myself on her. In many ways, this felt more intimate than fucking her.
"Gary was my last boyfriend before you, about four years ago."
I did the math in my head. Janey had been ten or eleven years old.
"We had been together a long time, two years or so, and over time, I came to relax my guard around him. I guess I let myself believe we were in love, although I knew we weren't.
"He was good with Janey at first, spending time with her, rough-housing as only a guy can with a girl. She seemed to like him. They were inseparable on weekends, and, after she was in bed, he would fuck me silly. Things were great for the first 6 months or so.
"Then one night he said he wanted to try something different. He used a belt or something and tied me to the bed. I went wild. It was the most exciting thing I had ever experienced up until then. I mean, I knew what bondage was, and had dabbled, but Gary took it serious. When he tied me up, it was for real, even that first time.
"He saw my reaction to it and rapidly introduced me to more and more bondage and domination, the stricter the better. I got hooked on it, really hooked. It was the closest thing I have ever had to an addiction. When I was tied up, I felt exhilaration, a real rush. For the first time in my life, I could relax sexually, let go. When I was bound, I was free.
"It sounds strange, but try to understand. All my life I had had to maintain control over my sex drive. But when I was tied up, it was as if I wasn't in control anymore. I could give full vent to my passionate side. It was a heady, dangerous thing to do, but I gave into it. I surrendered to it totally and, unfortunately, to Gary.
"I didn't know Gary was deeper into it than I was, actually closer to S&M. Humiliation, my humiliation, began to play an increasingly greater part of our playtimes, or 'scenes,' as he called them. I won't go into everything that went on, but I can't think of anything that he didn't make me do. Nothing was too disgusting or vile. He used just enough bondage to keep me hooked, and I crawled willingly along after him.
"Gary had a great thing going. He bragged about it to his friends. First he just brought them over to show me off; first just one, then two, then more. At one party, he let someone else tie me up. The next, someone else whipped me. Then he gave me away sexually to his friends. Parties, weekends, you name it.
"Then one day Janey came home early from a friend's house and caught me being fucked by five and two women, all strangers. Gary pulled her over and told her to watch her slut service each one of the guests at the party. He told her it would be good for her to learn what she was going to become one day. He then held her up against his naked body, with her back pressed to his limp cock dribbling down her white cotton blouse. He held her there and forced her to watch her suck the women and fuck the men. I kicked him out the next day and haven't seen him since.
"She was just eleven, but she understood I was torn between satisfying my sexual needs and the hating humiliation and pain he made me suffer through to get the satisfaction I craved. That was when we began to discover the full extent of the bond - that link I told you about that we have between us. I wouldn't have made it through that time without Janey's help. She would sense when I was getting antsy and keep me busy, usually with a behavior crisis of her choosing. God, she could be a real brat. She had to be, to keep me busy enough to get over my own emotional ups and downs.
"It was only after I was pretty much back to an even keel that I began to sense her loss. Until you, Gary was the only she had ever known. He was her father- figure, sort of."
I interrupted her. I had to ask.
"What happened to her real father?"
She opened her eyes and gazed myopically into mine. She was too close to focus, but I sensed the hesitation and the pain in them. With a sigh, she answered.
"Her and I were when I was 19. He was much older, a businessman and I was a trophy wife. He saw me at the local campus where I was a sophomore. I didn't understand my place was on the shelf, to be quiet and look pretty. I wanted the fairy tale, love, romance, sex, children...
"He was a businessman, like I said, and not a good one. His grandfather or great-grandfather had invented those metal grommets for the shoelace holes in shoes. Imagine how many of those things there are, 24 or more per pair of shoes, more in boots. Instant bazillionaire. By the time my husband got the company, though, the patents had run out and the business was all but dead. After a series of bad investments, me being one of them, he made a last attempt to merge with another company, but in the process lost it all. It was a shady deal, but he was greedy and got stupid. He died within a week. I think when he realized how badly he had been taken, the shock of it killed him. He was a very proud man.
"The new partners had set up a sizable insurance policy with the new merger - a Key Policy, or something like that. It was supposed to be his part of the contract. The bastards had reduced their costs by limiting the life of the policy to 30 days. My husband died 3 days before the expiration date. Nine months later Janey was born. His last two acts, he finally got it right. I'm sorry he never got to meet Janey. It might have made a difference... He would have made a great father."
It her to talk about it. This was her failure, too. Or she saw them that way.
"Anyway, it took forever for the Insurance Company to pay off. They suspected suicide, then all but accused me of murder. The only thing was, neither of us had known about the policy. I wasn't even supposed to be the beneficiary. Some ditzy secretary had automatically filled in my name as beneficiary, and no one had checked it. They had exaggerated his value to the merged company by several millions of dollars, much more than his whole company was worth or had been worth for several years. And I got it all. Tax-free."
Several of the missing pieces to the puzzle of the past were falling into place; just a couple more for now, and then more for the future.
"Where do we go from here, my love?"
She sat up and looked me in the eye. She took a while, apparently looking for something. Or was she probing my emotions, my feelings? I felt something snooping around in my head, I think. I don't know. It felt strange, like someone else was in there with me.
What passed between us just then, together with what we had experienced earlier seemed to grow and merge within the two of us, becoming something real. A part of me was in her, a part of her was in me. I know, that sounds corny. I never believed that shit, either. I just don't know how else to explain it, but something inside of us had touched the other. Maybe that's what they mean by having an epiphany. If it is, we had one.
And it was great.
We knew each other better now, and in a different way. She was finally convinced I was not Gary, that I had no hidden agenda, and I would not lead her down the same path of shame and humiliation, nor would I subject her daughter to that humiliation. She didn't know, nor did I what path we would go down from here, but she trusted me. With my cock still embedded deep within her, she playfully squeezed me with her muscles.
She kissed my lips lightly and gave me an impish smile before casting her twinkling eyes downward, bowing her head in a voluntary submissive posture. What she said next thrilled me to my core, and set the course for a major part of the next phase of our relationship.
"Anywhere you want, I will follow you..."
This time, the missing word was added.
"...Master."
Chapter 7
I had won the bet. She would be my bride at last. 'When' was another question altogether, but the 'if' part was now gone.
More to the immediate point of settling up the bet, my Sally had a bare by noon. With all the frivolity and ribald comments during the procedure, I think we were both surprised there were no nicks or cuts. By 2:00 in the afternoon, I would estimate I had consumed at least a gallon of her cum. There is something about a smooth, hairless that just tastes better. We were both looking forward to the frequent touch-ups. It was to become one of our favorite times together.
Originally, I had chosen this wager for the bet because I knew she wouldn't like it. Now, neither of us could understand why we had not done this earlier. She was so much more sensitive, responsive, and accessible. She would be shaved much longer than six months.
We were lying on the bed, head to toe. Or rather, heads to groins. I rolled over on my back, keeping her on top of me. I slowly moved my tongue over the length of her swollen slit. The aroma of all of the day's play combined into a heady mix. It was heavenly. My limp cock stirred.
She must have had her eyes open, as she immediately sucked in the pink head swelling right under her nose. Her next actions told me she was bent on bringing me off as fast as she could.
"Slow down, my love. Go to completion, but make it last." These commands were delivered around languorous licks to her slippery cunt.
She immediately slowed her actions, but she intensified the suction. It felt like she was trying to suck my balls up through my penis like chunks of strawberry fruit in a real milkshake that get stuck in the straw. I focused on her pleasure to take my mind off the feelings growing in my balls. I partially succeeded. She came three times before I exploded into her mouth.
Only then did I release her arms. She hadn't asked me to even then, but she had been bound for over 5 hours, without one complaint. She was very still as I massaged her shoulders, working out the kinks. When she stirred, I stopped. She rolled over, reached up and pulled me down to her. She held me so tight, I thought she would never let me go, and with the strength of her embrace, I knew I would never be able to break away. Not that I wanted to. She moved her lips to my ear.
"Thank you." Just that, nothing more. Nothing more was needed.
And then the Sally was back. She was in control, sure of herself, feisty, my lover, my equal.
It wasn't rocket science. But this much I had figured out: When she was bound, I was in total control. She didn't even want a safe-word. She had to explain what that was to me later. When she was free, we were equals. We both agreed we could live with that. Even better, I got to decide when she was bound and when she was free.
She said she had things to take care of and got up. 'Life goes on,' or something like that. I don't know how she did it, where she got her energy. I was exhausted.
The first thing I did was take a short nap. Then I checked on Janey. I wasn't being selfish by sleeping first. I had seen Sally go in to check on her first thing after she left our bed. She hadn't seemed anxious for her the entire time we had been 'playing,' but we both knew our concern for her was just below the surface. One noise from her, and it would have ended immediately. Anyway, Sally had looked down the hall at me as she exited Janey's room, gave me a bright smile and the 'OK' sign.
When I checked a couple of hours later, she was still sleeping soundly, but seemed a little less troubled. She had tossed the light covers off and one very long leg and one slim arm were exposed; or would have been exposed, except she was wearing her tracksuit. The rape counselor mentioned she might prefer that. Immediately after a sexual assault, most victims can't come to terms with their bodies and try to hide them completely. The bulkier and more misshapen the clothes the better to remove any hint of gender-oriented form.
Janey looked as if she had three or four layers under the normally sleek suit. She looked like an advertisement for that Eddie Murray where he wears a body suit to add a hundred or so pounds. She even had the ankle and wrist zippers closed and she was wearing her slippers. I noticed the hood was up over her head and the drawstring tied under her chin, as if she were trying to cover herself entirely up. A twisting knot developed in my gut and tried to rip my heart out as I began to understand the depth of her pain, confusion, and hurt. I swore right then and there that, as bizarre a plan as her had proposed, if that would help Janey, my Janey heal, I would do it, whatever it took, even if I had to risk losing Sally.
I covered her arm and leg, tucked her in and kissed her forehead. I had to wipe away a few tears that had fallen on her from somewhere. They couldn't have been from me - I never cry. I offered up another fervent prayer for her quick and total recovery.
I wandered around the quiet house and ended in the family room. I heard Sally bustling around in the cellar. It sounded as if she was dragging several large boxes or crates around and vacuuming. I vaguely wondered why she would be cleaning the basement, but dismissed it.
The room was a comfortable room, like the rest of the house. It was hard to imagine any room decorated by Sally that didn't reflect her personality. Of course, I was just a tad biased.
I turned on the and flipped through the channels, finding nothing worth watching. I scanned the bookshelf for titles I had read. I could only find a couple I had even heard of, much less read. No trashy novels here. It was quiet in the basement again. I looked around the room and saw a telephone on the desk. That reminded me that there was something I had to do.
I called the opera house. No, I didn't cancel. I renewed my season tickets, upgraded to a full season, and added one seat to the account for Janey. Sally had joined me in the living room and listened to the phone call in silence. As I place the telephone back in the cradle on the desk, I turned to face her to see what she wanted.
She attacked me.
Not in a mean spirited way, but with sharp fingernails jabbing for ticklish, tender areas, throw pillows actually used for throwing, knees, elbows, head-butts. My gentle little wife-to-be was intent on some serious roughhousing.
The robes we had thrown on upon leaving her bedroom were the first casualties. Mine came untied in the first assault and she tried to use the belt to trip me up. I managed to snag hers on the second lap around the sofa. The black silk rope belt we had put to such good use earlier in the day got tangled in the belt loops and she shimmied out of the robe so I wouldn't use it to pull her in. Seeing her bouncing around her chest was extremely distracting, and I tended to spend more time watching them move than paying attention to where I was going.
I was at a bit of a disadvantage. I didn't know what the rules of this particular game were, or if there even were any. I still don't know, and don't care, as we were having a tremendously good time, laughing and screaming. I bellowed as she drenched me with the water from a vase of flowers, and I discarded my dripping robe, more to limit the water damage than anything. I discovered a cache of rubber bands in a desk drawer. She shrieked as if mortally wounded as I shot them at her across the desk. I had her on the run for a while, her ass and my favorite targets. Then my ammo ran low.
I retreated in earnest after the first swat of the fly swatter she discovered discarded behind an easy chair caught my pecker broadside. She had been aiming for my butt, but I turned suddenly. I hollered "Shit," grabbed my jewels and started backing away from her in a panic. A look of horror crossed her face as she realize where she had struck me, but she quickly recovered from her shock, shrugged an "I'm sorry" at me, and immediately tried to hit it again, albeit with much less force.
Fuck this shit! I was going to do the honorable thing and run like hell in retreat. I had both hands in the basic 'save the jewels' position, and was backing away from her as fast as I could. I intended to get to a small room with a locking door, but she was always one step ahead of me and herded me around the room like a cutting cattle. Damn, she was fast!
By the time I backed into and tripped over the arm of the sofa, landing in the dead cockroach position, I was a mass of blotches. Nothing vital was injured, but Sally took every opening to torment me. She gleefully pounced on this new opportunity to attack my unprotected feet and calves as they waved in the air above me.
After several bellows and cries for mercy she said, "Say 'Uncle!' If you give, say 'Uncle.'"
Call me macho, call me a male chauvinist pig, call me stupid, call me what you want, but there is just something that gets stuck in my throat when I think about crying 'Uncle' to a girl. It has been like that ever since my Dad told me that I was a and had to be tough, but then I realized he had a different set of rules for my sister. I made the mistake of hesitating to surrender and tried to grab my feet to try to protect them. The tip of the incessant swatter instantly found my uncovered privates. That was all it took.
"UUUUNCLE!! SHIT, DAMN IT, OUCH!
She shouted, "I WIN!" and tossed her superior weaponry over her shoulder. I made a mental note to get rid of that fucking thing the first chance I had.
Whooping and cheering, she dove on my prone body, covering the myriad blotches with smoochy kisses and "Mommy will make it feel better"-type comments. She was really rubbing it in that she had 'whupped' a 6'3" man that had about 100 solid, not flabby, pounds on her. She was all over me, touching, caressing, and rubbing. I didn't realize she had maneuvered me to the middle of the sofa until she suddenly settled her freshly shorn over my face and announced,
"I want my reward!"
I had been planning on being a sore loser, pouting for a while, but when presented with her own pouting lips staring me in the face, I felt I could be gracious in defeat. I grabbed her hips, pulled her down, rolled and stiffened my tongue and shoved it as far up her ass as I could.
Her shriek of surprise shattered into giggles. I hadn't been sure of her reaction to rimming, but she sure seemed to enjoy it. I wasn't aware of how much she enjoyed it until she attacked my soft, sore, tired dick with a ferocity I had not experience that often from her heretofore.
The way she was going at it, I was more than a little fearful she would suck it off and it, as that seemed what she was determined to do. I had hoped to distract her by fingering her and clit in addition to tongue-fucking her asshole, but to my amazement and immense pleasure, she swallowed more and more of my increasing length as I stiffened.
She gagged slightly as the bulging head slipped down her throat, but she didn't withdraw. She forced down a couple of more inches as I became fully hard. I switched holes, using my tongue in her and my finger in her ass. She became frantic in her suction, as if her life depended on it.
Until now, I had never experienced this. Blowjobs, sure, lots of them, some pretty good, but no one had ever been able to completely my erect cock. If I may say so myself, my equipment is a noticeable upgrade from the standard, average issue, in length, width, and head size. Ever since Junior High School and the first fumbling attempts at sex, the so privileged to observe it have been at once fascinated and frightened when they encountered my cock in an excited state. So, now, with my cock completely consumed for the first time ever, I was in absolute 'pig-in-shit' heaven. Bliss. Nirvana. I saw bright lights, heard angels playing harps, talked with Elvis...
When I stopped paying attention to her needs, Sally began gnawing at the base of my cock with her sharp white teeth. It wasn't exactly gentle either, and I began to recount all the things I had said and done up to this point, wondering if I had made a grand miscalculation somewhere along the way. Then I opened my eyes, saw a different set of pearly gates, and remembered I was supposed to be doing something for her, too. The gnawing didn't stop as I resumed my duties, but it did lessen a bit. I think.
I don't know how she timed it. Intuition, perception, maybe she had a link with me, too. But just as I was becoming truly concerned for the survival of that most important of my organs, she slipped a moistened finger up my tightly clenched asshole. I experienced only a slight discomfort from the intrusion. Like most guys, I hadn't had much experience with things up my ass other than my doctor's finger, but I thought I was doing OK with it and was even planning to escalate the situation by increasing the number of fingers up her ass to two. At least, that was my plan until she twisted her tiny little finger around and massaged my prostate.
I shot my load unexpectedly into her throat. It was extremely painful. It so bad I passed out. She told me later that I made a really weird sound, too, when I shot my wad into her greedy mouth. Like someone strangling a saxophone. I didn't appreciate finding her leaning over me, laughing lightly as I regained consciousness.
"Thank you." That's all she said.
My mind raced. For what, her reward? Losing to her? Passing out? Help me, please!
"You're welcome. And thank you, back."
Good. Real good. Meat-head.
"What for?" Apparently it was OK for her to ask.
"Thank you for letting me in, really in."
Score one for the side with penises! We could think fast with both heads! Yep, you betcha!
"Oh." The way she snuggled into my chest seemed to indicate that I had given the right answer. Then the other shoe dropped.
"What's the matter? Didn't you like the sex?"
She held me in suspense, and finally collapsed in a wonderfully ticklish mass of giggles. We were gentler with each other this time, and she allowed me to win, crying 'Uncle' only after I had both her hands pinned to the sofa above her head and still had one hand free to torment her breasts, ribs, stomach, etc. I spent a lot of time at her 'etc.' Even then she held out. I went very slowly to be positive I didn't miss a single nerve. Sometimes I went back to check on a particular area again and again. It was a long slow torture for her until she finally gasped her surrendering 'Uncle." But only after she climaxed several times.
Her shrieks and peals must have woken Janey. Or it may have been the racket we made earlier destroying the family room. Or it could have been all the activity on their 'link.' Regardless, the traumatized teen was awake and wandering the house. She was still groggy from the sedatives the doctor had prescribed for her to help her sleep. The first we knew she was awake was when Sally sensed her in the doorway of the room. In retrospect, seeing your and her boyfriend stark naked, their faces buried in each other's crotches probably wasn't the best thing to see right after being brutally raped. Sally tried to think of something to say, but it's hard to say something socially acceptable and gracious when your mouth has a death grip on 10 inches of pulsing cock. And a very determined is gnawing your hypersensitive clit at the same time. We were performing a classic '69' on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon.
Sally slowly pulled her head up off my groin, exposing my fully hardened length to her for the first time. She focused on her special link with and her own happiness and contentedness penetrated the shell that had begun to harden around Janey, bringing a spark of life back to the battered girl.
"Hi, honey. How are you feeling?"
"OK, I guess, but not as good as you! Geeze, Mom." She surveyed the shambles of the room. "No more parties for you, lady!" She paused as she looked back at us, and then half whispered, "God, is that real?" There was more than a hint of awe in her voice.
I twitched my freestanding shaft on purpose to show her I knew to what she was referring. Reluctantly Sally rolled off my face and sat up. I propped myself up with my elbows, still stretched out on the sofa. Janey couldn't take her eyes off my erection. I couldn't take my eyes off Sally. This was a bear with a wounded cub. No way in Hell was I going to make a misstep here.
Sally looked at me, saw where we were both looking, and shrugged. We weren't going to be able to ease into this. All plans for a gradual phase in were off.
"Janey, honey, we need to talk." She patted the cushion next to her. Janey looked first at me, then at her mother, tearing her eyes away from my cock for a moment. I could see the indecision in the teenager's eyes, the fear and the pain as she remembered what happened the last time that she saw a in my condition. I could also see that the sexual instincts she shared with Sally were being activated. Her tearing, blinking eyes reflected the battle within. I wondered what she was going to do. Was she going to bolt and maybe never be reachable again or was she going to stay? Then, almost imperceptibly, she straightened and I saw that a decision had been reached. She got that funny little grin on her face. Her eyes began to shine a little brighter as her trust in her made the decision for her. She padded toward us, slowly at first, then with more confidence, more like the Janey, and I knew she had made the decision to heal, to become Janey again and not hide from who she was. At that moment I was almost convinced that Sally's plan was the way to go. With this first sign from Janey that what her had said about her was really true, I was beginning to be at ease with what I had been asked to do. There was a long way to go, but Janey was willing to take that journey and now so was I.
The teenager came over and sat between us. She never took her eyes from my crotch.
"Larry proposed to me today."
"Aww, Mom, he does that all the time."
"I know. But this time, I, uh, accepted." I noticed there was no mention that I had had to win a tough bet. I figured discretion was the wiser course and kept quiet. I could brag about it later, if it ever came up.
Mother and daughter, looking enough alike to be twins, went through the obligatory female ritual of squeals and hugs that seems required after such an announcement. I rolled my eyes at Sally, who was looking at me over Janey's shoulder. She made a face and stuck her tongue out at me.
Janey turned to me and hugged me, too, catching me off guard by her sudden move. I was, after all, stark naked and very noticeably aroused. She froze after a momentary hug, her arms still around my neck. I figured she had just figured out what that pointy thing was that was jabbing into her side, just below her tits. I waited for her to wail, cry out, slap me, run from the room, something. I did not expect her to cling tighter to my neck, almost strangling me in the process.
"Ssshhh. It will be OK." I softly cooed to the silky golden hair peeking out of the hooded sweatshirt she was wearing. Her strands of hair tickled my nose. How do they always get it to smell so goddamn sexy? "Everything will be all right. I promise."
I looked up at Sally for help. A fat lot of good that did. She was doubled over, holding her sides, her fist stuffed in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Very funny, ha, ha.
"I know that. Just make my happy for now. I need her to be happy."
"I know. She needs to be happy to help you get well. I promise I will do my very best."
I kicked at Sally with my foot, trying to get her to jump in, to say something to help me get out of this before I did something stupid and scared her away before we even got started. My efforts resulted in her rolling on the floor, holding her sides. Tears were streaming down her face and she was making no attempt to keep quiet now. She thought this was hilarious. I plowed on.
"But what about you, can I do anything for you?" Pushing it, I know, but hey, you would, too, with a traumatized teenage lying on top of your very hard and very erect erection. "If you ever need 'anything'..."
She giggled, and then gasped. Apparently that link thing had kicked in with me this time and she understood what 'anything' meant. I felt her hesitate, then "Not right now, Larry. I'm too sore. Even just walking in here hurts. And I'm definitely not ready for that thing, yet." That last word was added with extra meaning. I understood. She was one tough lady. I wasn't going to scare her off. And it would take a Hell of a lot more than an adolescent rapist to knock her out of life, too. She was going to be OK.
"I know, baby. But when you are ready let me know, OK?"
I felt her nod. I changed my tone of voice to what I imagined a scolding father's would be.
"And one more thing, lady; you are one absolutely beautiful girl. If you keep on running around with nothing on but things like that sexy sweat suit that you have on now, throwing your gorgeous, cloth-covered in my face like you are now, I may just have to take you over my lap and spank you. On your beautiful cotton terrycloth padded ass. I mean hard, until it's as as a tomato and you are as hot as a firecracker." I reached down and gave her a playful, very gentle, swat on her padded behind. God, even through what felt like three or four layers of clothing, those rubbery cheeks felt delicious...
She rose up to check if I was joking, her eyes wide in shock. When she saw my shit-eating grin looking up at her, she knew she had been had. She made a face, reached down and wrapped her slender fingers in a fist and hit me as hard as she could in the solar plexus. It took me by surprise and she winded me. First time since Junior High. Damn! I half expected her to stick out her tongue, too.
"Same goes for you, too, stud. All this hot, hard cock meat waving out in the open just might make me do something rash, too." With that, she kissed me lightly on the cheek, bounced up and landed with a knee right where she had just hit me. Damn! She got me twice!
As I lay there gasping for breath, the two women currently in my life, one naked, the other wearing every sweat suit she owned, ran out of the room hand in hand, laughing hysterically at my perplexed expression as I watched my exhausted, tired, and abandoned shaft wilt in the sudden stillness of the empty room.
I was in way over my head.
Chapter 8
On the following Monday I drove Janey to school. Normal attendance at the school had been suspended for almost a week after the attack because of the hoopla and the police and FBI investigation, so she hadn't missed that many classes. Janey had wanted to ride the bus as usual, but Sally was insistent and won this one. It was on my way to my office, and I had several other errands to do that couldn't wait much longer. Everyone knew Sally and Janey from the news, but no one knew me, as I had stayed in the background and out of the cameras. A habit from my job, I guess. As a result, I could pretty much go into town unnoticed.
It was a pretty quiet ride for the most part, which was unusual. Not that Janey was a chatterbox, but we had always been able to talk. It was obvious she was worried about her reception at school, among other things weighing heavily on her mind. Janey had her cheerleading outfit and pom-poms stuffed in a bag on the floor by her feet. She had decided, on her own, to resign from the squad. Sally and I both thought it was a mistake to make this decision so soon, but Sally had been unable to talk her out of it. I thought I would give it a shot.
"Gee. I'm sure going to miss that cheerleading outfit."
She looked at me with a puzzled look, her curiosity piqued, but already suspecting that that extraneous comment was an attempt to get her to change her mind about resigning from the squad. Her guard was up.
"Huh?"
I repeated myself. "I'm going to miss that cheerleading outfit."
No response from the far side of the car. I thought I had better elaborate. Hell, I had started out by saying the first thing that came to mind. I went with it. I can't lie to save a penny, but I can prevaricate with the best of them.
"Well, you see, your and I play this game sometimes when you're not home. We didn't think you'd mind. It was her idea actually. See, she pretends to be a cheerleader, I'm this hot-shit jock. We go to the High School and sneak under the bleachers. Yada yada yada." This was almost too close to the truth of what happened to her, but it was too late to stop by the time I realized where I was going with it.
"She is so hot and God, sooooo sexy in that tight sweater, that short white skirt and those tiny panties. Yup, we sure had some really hot times under there, and in the locker rooms, both the and the girls. And the showers - you get the picture. Oh, yeah, once we did it at center court and almost got caught by the principal. It was great! I tell you, I'm really going to really miss that uniform. Oh, shit, then there was the time in the mud on the 50-yard line. We thought we'd never get that sweater clean again. Bet you couldn't tell, could you?"
"You did it center court? In my outfit? Ewww! Gross!" She pulled her hands off the bag like it was full of dirty underwear. We rode in silence for a while.
"You really think looks sexy in my outfit?" I figured she was thinking about how much alike they looked. If was sexy, she was sexy, too, right?
I didn't say anything in response. I just made an obscene gesture with my mouth, beating the tip of my tongue rapidly up and down between my slightly parted lips like I did on Sally's clit whenever I could. She got the picture, vividly.
"Ooooo, Larry. That's gross. You two are sick."
I laughed, and she stared out the window on her side, ignoring me the rest of the way to the High School. She made me drop her off a block before the school. I dropped her off and watched her safely into the school. Only then did I go to change my clothes before going in to work. It had been an unexpectedly long time since I had had a chance to get a change of clothes. About halfway to my apartment I noticed the bag on the floor, her cheerleading stuff still inside. I did a 'happy, happy, joy, joy' dance in the car seat the rest of the way to my apartment.
I was still grinning like an idiot when I got to my office. There, I gave my boss the option of an extended leave or my resignation, his choice. He surprised me and countered with a home-office package. I hesitated, thinking it would be more work, less pay and that I would still be coming into the office five times a week. When he doubled my salary and my vacation, effective immediately, and made all contact through FAX, phone or e-mail, I agreed. Geeze, twist my arm, why don't you? It was nice to be appreciated, though. I cleared out my desk, set up contact schedules with my secretary, who was now promoted to my personal assistant, and left.
Sally convinced me I should move in with the two of them full time and made room in her closets for my stuff. So my next stop was the manager at my complex. He made noises about 90-day notice, forfeiture of all deposits, and broken leases.
I simply turned his telephone around, punched on the speakerphone and dialed the local cable company. When he heard the receptionist answer, "Hello. This is Cable Com. How may I help you?" he paled and disconnected the call faster that I had thought his fat fingers could move.
I walked out of his office a homeless person, free of all legal obligations. I had had to promise him I wouldn't call the cable company again. For that, he would tear up my contract. I fully intended to keep my promise to him, as I didn't need to call them again. I had already placed a call to them from my apartment before I went into his office. I figured they would be arriving in less than 3 minutes, probably with the police. I hoped they would get there before he had time to rip out all the illegal wiring and the illegal descrambler boxes he had installed. That motherfucker had set up his own little cable company, using a pirated signal, and had charged every single tenant the normal hook-up fees and monthly service, including pay- per-view and premium channels. Being caught red-handed like I hoped he was going to be would mean fines and maybe even some jail time for the fat bastard.
The cavalry arrived just as I was pulling out of the parking lot. Payback is a bitch, isn't it?
Sally survived Janey's first day back at school. It had helped a lot when I handed her the bag with her cheerleading stuff still inside. She looked up at me with a question in her eyes. I simply kissed her smooth forehead.
"Uh, you probably don't want to know exactly what I said to her, but we should probably make sure to get it cleaned real good if you were to ever put it on and sneak into the High School gym with me some night. Have you ever thought about role-playing as a and me as big hot stud? You might want to give it some thought, just in case. Or try to remember the time we rolled around in the mud in the middle of the football field..."
"But we never did that!"
"I know that, and you know that, but Janey doesn't know that. But, well, she might have gotten the impression that we had done something like that. So I figured we might as well, no?" I gave her my best evil grin. "How about right now?"
Her laughter was musical, the first I had heard from her in a long, long time. It felt good to hold her in my arms and see her smiling face looking up into mine. It made me feel like I could conquer the world. I told her about the rest of my day as we unloaded boxes from my car. It all fit in a tiny corner of the garage. Not much to show for 34 years.
Sally was pleased it had worked out for me to work out of the house. She suddenly found she needed me to be there for her at odd times, kind of like a stabilizer. She took me through the house, offering me my pick of rooms to use for my office.
Remembering back to last week and still curious, I suggested the cellar. She hesitated. Instantly sensing something secret about to be dug up, I played innocent and persisted, saying how ideal it would be, how I would be there whenever she needed, but out of sight at the same time. I wouldn't bother her with the phone calls, or the faxes or my music. I suggested maybe just a part of the cellar could be converted into an office. Babbling enthusiastically at this great idea of mine, I grabbed her hand and started towards the cellar door.
She didn't stop me, but she did lag behind. I sort of had to drag her along, actually. I got to the door and with a flourish and a bow said, "Ladies first, madam."
She went down the stairs like a condemned woman. This just got more and more curious.
The harsh light from the single overhead bare bulb revealed nothing out of the ordinary: laundry area, heating and cooling systems, water heater, and storage area. There was nothing down here that should have taken up so much of her time the last five days. She would disappear down here for hours at a time, coming back up without a word of explanation and noticeably subdued.
I looked around the barren space again for something I had missed. Ah-ha! A door! A locked door was discretely hidden behind a storage shelf.
So, that's almost nothing out of the ordinary. I charged on.
"Not much room down here. It's kind of dingy, too. Hey, what's in here?" I went over and tried the door. As I suspected, it was locked. "Hey! It seems to be stuck. Could you give me a little help here, Dearest?" I gave her my most innocent, endearing look.
She dug her hand in the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out an impressive electronic key card. Hell, we didn't have security like this at my office, and they handled bundles of cash! I accepted it with a raised eyebrow. Sally just blushed and looked at her feet.
I slid the key through the reader and pulled on the door handle. The surprisingly heavy door opened silently to reveal - nothing but total blackness. I reached in to find the light switch on the wall and found - nothing. I looked at the walls next the entrance. Nothing. I turned to look at Sally.
Silently she moved to my right and slid the card through a second reader slot in the doorframe. The lights in the mysterious room came on.
I pulled her into my arms before I went in to see what was in this special room. She was turned so that her back was to my chest. I could feel the tension in her. I put my arms around her, under her arms and held my hands together in front of her belt buckle. I stepped back, away from the doorway, pulling her with me.
"I can wait for whatever this is until you're ready."
She let the offer echo against the concrete walls of the utility area for a while, then brought her hands up from her sides and held onto mine. Her grip was tight, like she was afraid of my reaction to what I would see. I'll give her credit, though. In spite of her fears, she stepped forward, pulling me along with her. Together we stepped into the room, into her secret place.
I gazed around the room, turning us in a complete circle before speaking. "I don't think I need this much security for my office, Sally. The guest room at the end of the hallway will be just fine."
I walked out of the room, taking her with me. We almost made it up to the top of the stairs before she jammed on the brakes.
"No." She took a deep breath. "Damn you, you bastard!" She was so mad she hissed when she said that. "Did you know what was in there?"
"Nope. Not a clue. Honestly, not a clue. If I had known, I wouldn't have pushed you just now."
She sighed. "I know. It's just that this is so personal. It's my Achilles' Heel, and I feel like I'm handing it to you gift-wrapped. I've never felt so naked, so vulnerable in my entire life. Do you know what that's like?"
"I can imagine. I can wait until you're ready to let me in there with you. I'm probably more scared of that stuff than you are. You, at least, know what those things are and how to use them. I only recognized a couple of things."
She tilted her head back and gave me a funny look. My admission of ignorance was almost bewildering to her. Seeing that I wasn't going to push her to go back in, or maybe it was my sincere ignorance that helped her make up her mind. Regardless, she took me back down the stairs and into the room, this time with a sure step.
When she had told me earlier of her previous boyfriend, Sally had said she had been addicted to bondage. She had been really addicted. For a rich person, addictions are dangerous things. For the next two hours she led me around the cavernous room, showing me her various collections of gear. Some of it I could figure out. Others had helpful illustrations of how to operate, use or wear the whatchamacallits. Many, no, most of the things down there were things I had never seen or even dreamed of. And they were almost all custom-made. Expensive.
She stayed in my arms throughout the tour, guiding me around from one collection to another. She was quiet, just letting me absorb as much as I could take.
I had done fine, reaction-wise, until the third set of items she took me to. The illustrations for this collection used photos of actual models. The in the vivid color photo was unmistakably Sally. My gasp was very audible in the quiet dungeon.
I couldn't help it. I went both ways. My hands protectively moved up and gently cupped around her breasts and my cock, with its own mind, tried to punch a in my slacks. I couldn't take my eyes off the photo of her, bound and gagged, the leather of taut straps encircling her body, highlighting her hair. The position she was forced into was awkward. It looked painful, the straps obviously tight. I could see the beads of sweat on her chin, the high stiff collar forcing it awkwardly upwards.
There was more, much more. When we were done, I had seen at least five recognizable photos of Sally, each with her in the strictest bondage imaginable. As we left, we locked the door. When it was secured, she handed me the key, pressing it into my hand. This time, we made it all the way back to the kitchen. She poured us some coffee and we sat down at the table, each lost in our own thoughts.
It was quiet for a long time around the table, the coffee beginning to cool.
"I'm going to need some time to work up to your level. I don't know if I..."
Her sob stopped me in mid sentence. The tension flowed out of her as her relief at not being rejected flooded over her. She flew across the table into my arms, spilling the forgotten coffee over the table and onto the floor.
I only said one more thing to her about it.
"Get rid of the stuff that makes you uncomfortable or brings back any bad memories. Keep the things you want, of course, but you and I will build our own collection, together. Also, take down the pictures. You are truly beautiful in them, and in some of them I can begin to see what you like about this. I don't want to share you or this with anyone right now. I want this to grow between us, at our own speed. This will be our joy, our passion. OK?"
Sometimes you get lucky and say the right thing.
She never explained why she had set the room back up after all those years. I never asked. I handed her back the key and motioned for her to take them. She spent several days sorting through the items, and later several large trucks came and went, picking up and delivering huge crates.
I went back down to the cellar after she returned the key. The room was nearly empty, or seemed so, as there was still a considerable amount of stuff in it, some of it new. That surprised me. I studied it all carefully, making mental notes of consistent themes. The photos were still down there, the entire collection this time. They were not displayed, but locked in a new safe. The key was on the top. Inside the safe were literally hundreds of photos. She had sorted them chronologically, and they showed her in all sorts of progressively lurid situations, first singly, then with one, later with multiple partners. She was always bound in some manner, but towards the end only minimally. It was too restrictive for the others. Her bondage was just a teaser, to whet her appetite, to keep her hungry.
It was not hard to pick out Gary in the pictures, especially in the last series. He was the bastard with his hands on an 11 year girl's chest, pinning her back against his groin, forcing her to watch her being sexually humiliated by four and two women. He was the fifth she had mentioned earlier.
I memorized his face. I would never forget it.
Over the next week, I carefully went though the photos, automatically cataloging the people in them in my mind as I had been trained to do so many years before. I forced myself to look at each one. Those people had touched my love in intimate ways. It was somehow personal, even though we hadn't met at the time. When I was finished reviewing them, I locked them away along with the negatives. I kept the early ones of Sally by herself in a separate file. The ones when she was happiest.
I also kept out one other single photo. I took it back with me to my office. It was a simple blowup of just the face of a very brave little girl. Crying. Scared.
Chapter 9
Strangely enough, as exciting as I found the prospect of introducing bondage into our relationship to be, Sally and I didn't start using the cellar right away. She was ready, more than ready, but she understood I was not there yet. There was a large part of it I wasn't comfortable with, not the least of which was the pain involved. I didn't talk about it either, although I spent many long hours down there by myself, thinking, trying to understand what this was all about, what this would do to our relationship, what part I could and would be willing to play. I had several issues to deal with. Until I was ready, I wasn't going to bring it any further into our relationship than it had already intruded.
As time went by, slowly, the three of us settled into a kind of routine. Janey had school, I had work and Sally, and Sally had Janey. Then school ended for the summer and we both had Janey. She just kind of hung around, underfoot.
Neither Sally nor I were prepared for her listlessness. This active, goal-oriented teenager was suddenly mashed potatoes. By the end of the second week of summer break I got fed up with tripping over her, getting no civil response to reasonable questions, and the mindless drivel she was watching - or at least staring at on TV. Something drastic was called for, so I did something impulsive. Well, OK, so I planned it first. The two girls thought it was impulsive, and that's all that counts, right? I quietly made several telephone calls and pulled in some favors. Everything fell neatly into place, as I had hoped - prayed? - it would. Clout is really nice when you have it.
That night at dinner I announced I would be in charge of the entire next day. They could like it or not, tuff shit. I told them they could call their friends and cancel any plans, as I was not taking "No" as an answer from either one of them. I would give them the itinerary, their instructions and their clothing in the morning. That raised at least one eyebrow. Then I left the house. I didn't want to take a chance on either one of them talking me out of it or digging out the surprise. I knew my limits with these two and when it came to giving in and giving up, I was an expert.
On my return with several small packages, Sally hovered about, sniffing for a hint. But no amount of wheedling, and God, could she wheedle, produced the slightest whiff of the next day's events.
The next morning, I got them up early. On each of their beds were three packages, numbered 1, 2, and 3. Sally tore into her boxes like it was Christmas. The first box held a pair of shorts, a half-T, and tennis shoes, with bootie socks, nothing else. The disappointment in her eyes almost made me fess up to the plans for the day. The second sack contained a baseball glove.
Clearly puzzled, and slightly more curious now, she opened the third. A baseball cap and a pennant from a near-by AAA baseball team and a ticket for tonight's game. She grinned at me, lighting the room. It was all the thanks I needed.
She gestured towards the two skimpy pieces of clothing. "Anything else?"
I shook my head, grinning.
Her eyes widened as she eyeballed the slight droop of her against the bottom hem of the shirt.
"I'll have to be careful."
"Please, not on my account!" I said, grinning from ear to ear. I hoped I had estimated it just right. Janey's top was even shorter. Both of them would be very aware of their cock teasing attire the entire day. All I could do was hope for an exciting game and that we didn't run into any drunk or overly aggressive males. I was prepared to deal swiftly should one - or more - get within a grab of either of my girls, especially Janey. That would set her back a lot, but I had always believed that without risk, there is no gain. I applied that philosophy to life as well as my finances.
Sally went in to help Janey get ready, her infectious laughter soon joined by her daughter's gasps and giggles. I heard Janey protest
"But, Mom, I've never dressed like this to go out in public!"
"I know, dear. Me neither. But it's what he wants for today."
"I, uh, we both look like cock teasers!"
"Then I guess we'll just have to play the part he wants us to play. But for today only, clear?"
More giggles followed with some practice tease lines and outrageous blatant poses in front of the mirror in Janey's room. I watched from the doorway as both figured out how high they could move their arms or shrug their shoulders before they exposed themselves to their viewing public. It was going to be impossible to avoid, and they both agreed that if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
Sally gasped as Janey walked across the room. We all saw her bounce in and out of view just from walking. I guess I got her a bit too short. Sally glared at me in the mirror as I shrugged an "oops" to her. I really hadn't meant it to be that short. She then got a funny look in her eye, pulled out some scissors and trimmed a good two inches off her own shirt. She couldn't even take a deep breath without showing it all.
"There, that's better, don't you think?"
They linked arms, grinning conspiratorially, and announced they were ready to go.
Over the first hurdle, but oh, so many more to go...
I whistled appreciatively at the two goddesses and handed them each a light windbreaker on the way out the door, telling them to hurry as we had to keep to the schedule. Sally checked her ticket for the time of the game. It didn't start until 7:00 that night and the stadium was only 60 miles away. She shrugged and helped me get Janey into the back seat of my car. Neither wanted the cover of the windbreakers, so the light jackets went into the trunk, along with the baseball gloves.
I took the long way around, heading to the next town over from the stadium. There I stopped for breakfast at a health food place I had invested in several years prior. I had warned the folks who ran it I might stop in, with my 'special' guests, and they really put on a show for us.
Janey thought all I ate was artery-clogging processed foods, and when I pulled into this out of the way place, she figured it was a greasy spoon, and said as much. Sally was just as bewildered, but more observant. She saw the high-end autos in the parking lot and the sleekness of the clientele. The high-tech, high-priced exercise facility attached to the restaurant clued her in that this just might be something other than what it appeared.
Janey turned suddenly modest and we could only get her to come in after I had retrieved the light jackets from the trunk. She was still somewhat reticent, but when she suddenly spied a waiter, a 'hunk with buns,' as she described him, she said she would come with us if we could sit at his station. Thank you, God, for raging hormones. I told her I would see what I could do, and in we went.
I think Janey would have eaten lard on pork rinds that morning and not noticed. That poor waiter was run ragged. She had him take back the yogurt, because it wasn't ripe yet. Then the toast because it was too light, then too dark, then too hard, and so on. The water was too warm, there was a microscopic nick in her glass, her place settings didn't match Sally's and mine, then they didn't match the table next to us and it clashed, upsetting her appetite. She almost drooled as she stared at his butt as he walked back to the kitchen, again. And again. And again. I will admit, she was rather inventive and kept him busy running back and forth the whole time we were there.
I was trying to hold a conversation with my partners, the owners, introducing them to Sally. We had to point at Janey during the introductions, as her attention was elsewhere. Several times we were interrupted by raucous laughter from the tables around us. Most of the patrons sitting around us had caught on to what Janey was doing, and were thoroughly enjoying the floorshow. Some even helped out, sending the poor waiter past our table so Janey could get an additional eyeful.
With all the complaints Janey was making, the mangers were worried that things weren't going well and mentioned that the waiter, on his first day, might not make it to his second. Sally reassured them that he was doing just fine, that the problem was much more of her daughter's doing than anything else. I, too, reassured them that, knowing Janey and her determination, there was absolutely nothing the poor kid could do about it. I intended to leave a substantial tip for the poor rookie.
He was coming towards our table, lugging an over-full, ill-stacked tub of dirty dishes, when Janey gave him her own special gratuity. Her windbreaker had fallen open just so, and, as she caught his eye, she winked, slowly raising both her hands to re-adjust the baseball cap on her head. It took her a long time to get it just right. Her 'tips,' framed by the dark windbreaker, riveted him, as well as several lucky tables behind him. Stunned, he dropped the tub, breaking every dish in it with a crash that silenced every conversation in the room.
I watched her flash him from my seat. I had a clear view of what she had done and what he could see. Considering I had only left money, I figured she had given him the better tip. Mine would just about cover the breakage. Hers would last him a lifetime. Unbeknownst to me, Sally slipped him a $50.00 bill and a peck on the cheek on the way out. Who knows what she showed him as she did that? Or where she had the bill stashed?
The next stop was a long ways off. I urged them to use the facilities before we got underway. Both snapped very erotic nipple-flashing salutes with an "Aye, aye, Sir" and marched off to the ladies room. Time passed, and I finally wandered out to the car to wait for them there. I was standing next to my car when an friend and his drove up and we began to talk, catching up on mutual acquaintances from home. I had my back turned to the restaurant and wasn't aware the girls were approaching until I heard,
"Hey, mista. If we show ya our boobies, will ya give us a ride in yer big car? I'll letcha play with mine if I can drive it. Huh? I get my license next year and I need the practice. Whaddya say? Deal? Here, feel hers, too. Hers ain't real, mine are! Feel the difference?"
My friend turned apoplectic as the two temptresses clung to me, one on each arm. As they rubbed their chests up and down my arms they showed my friend and his their goodies. I started to introduce Sally and Janey to them, but something was different about them. It took a minute, then it hit me. They had changed their hair. Both now had twin tails of hair, sprouting out of their heads almost sideways. And the makeup was either gone, or so artfully applied that they looked - both of them - no than 14. 15 max. I didn't think I could introduce a cock-teasing 15-year- old as 'my intended' with a straight face, so I grabbed a handful of ass in each hand and said,
"Sure, kids. Climb in. Say, I think I've got some candy in my pocket. Why don't you reach in and see if you can find it?"
I winked at my friend and his red-faced wife, mouthed 'Let's do lunch,' and hustled the two vixens into my car. They both waved 'Goodbye' enthusiastically, much to the visible delight of the man.
I would have a lot of explaining to do to my friend, the judge, when we got around to that lunch.
Chapter 10
"That nice you two were flashing was Judge Hawthorne, of the State Supreme Court, and his wife. He was a partner in the law firm with my before his appointment to the bench. I, uh, dated their for a long time. Our families are close, or at least they were, until today."
"And you didn't even introduce me! Aren't I your fianc‚? Are you ashamed of me already?"
I stopped the car and pulled off to the side of the road. They had switched seats, with Sally sitting in the back.
"I have never been more proud of you. It's just that, well, their still thinks of me as her property sort of, and they were expecting her to arrive at any moment. Her supports her fully in that fantasy, too, by the way. And you know how it is with mothers and daughters, right?"
"You mean if we had stayed, I could have met a piece of your past?"
"She was never a 'piece' of my past. I was a 'piece' to her, like a trophy or furniture. And no, I never got a 'piece' from her. First she played hard to get, then hard to lose."
"So, that broad didn't look too spry. Whatsa matta, don'cha think we could take 'em?"
"Believe me, I would almost pay money to see you two tangle with those two. WWF would lose rating points that night. Seriously, when you do meet them, and you will, don't turn your back on them if you're near the serving line, too many knives lying around. And always stay close to at least two witnesses."
Janey's eyes were as big as saucers as she followed this conversation. At least she didn't think I was joking.
I made a mental note to schedule a lunch with ol' Thorny for the next week. He'd already gotten a good rise out of this story. I'd just fill in a few blanks, beginning with Janey's attack, to help him smooth it out at home. He understood daughters. He just had no idea how to control his own.
Following breakfast we headed to a much larger city about an hour away, but again it was in the wrong direction from the stadium. Sally and Janey were back to behaving like perfect brats. If not clean, at least it was a lot of fun. Comments about "taking the long way," "are we there yet?," "is this the right road," "is this an away game," 'and "I have to stop and go potty" came out of the passenger and rear seats with increasing frequency the farther we got from the night's destination.
Both quieted down, however, as I pulled into the parking area of a very exclusive section of the city. Both of them knew exactly where we were. It was a shoppers' paradise, a ten-square block area of downtown filled with boutiques and specialty shops. Both had hinted strongly over the last year or so that this was 'the' place they would really like to visit, e.g. to spend my money. What they didn't know was that I had put this whole area together personally, and knew all of the shop owners very well. The owners were not just owners, but skilled craftsmen.
This exclusive area was known as 'The Guild' and that is exactly what it was: A throwback to the times when the guild craftsmen established the acceptable levels of workmanship and art, not Wal-Mart or K-Mart shoppers. It had been hugely successful, even to the point of being frequently and occasionally fairly well imitated in other cities. The waiting list to get into my shops was long and getting longer. The quality of the work done here was becoming world renowned as the standard to meet. The prices of the pieces crafted here were understandably and justifiably exorbitant, and best of all, it made huge returns for my real-estate investment and management company. And me.
I had been awarded a sizable stake in the project based on its success, and I had received additional incentives as I continued to manage it to greater heights - and profits. My share had grown to a small fortune over the last 10 years. It wasn't all paper profit, either. I made sure I got cash flow out of it. Today I was going to start plowing back into the shops a lot of that capital, but if what I had planned worked out, it would be well worth it.
For the next several hours, we wandered up and down the narrow cobblestone streets, apparently just shopping. We were actually on a very organized schedule. Sally began to suspect something after about the third shop I specifically guided them into.
The routine was the same in each shop. As we entered, the artist or shopkeeper would welcome me warmly by name, making the effort to come out and greet me with unrehearsed enthusiasm. The other customers, if any, would be gently, but quickly, ushered out, and a "Private Showing, Please Return in One Hour" sign set in the window. Shades were drawn to curious passersby, and then both would be measured in a manner appropriate to the craft of the artisan. The persons measuring them would always be women, never men, though there were a couple of them I wasn't sure about. Sally made sure Janey was never left alone with those two clerks.
In the boot-maker's shop they had two plaster castings made of their legs and lower torso, one with their toes pointed straight down, the other standing normally. At the dressmaker's shop, a whole body cast was made of each of my girls. Similarly, at the foundation shop, another cast was made, but of only the torso and upper thighs. For each cast, some or usually all of their minimal clothing would be removed, they would be powdered, placed in molds, the quick-dry plaster poured and dried. Afterwards, they would be offered a shower, refreshment, and then efficiently ushered back to the waiting room or back office where I would be talking to the owner.
We were right on schedule as we turned into the third to the last shop on my agenda for the day. These last three stops would be tricky. I pulled Sally to the side.
"I need to speak with Janey for a moment. Will you please cooperate and not have as much fun as you have been having so far today? It is important."
Her eyes danced as she considered her answer. With a nod of her head, she reached up and kissed me on the cheek.
"You're in charge today, remember? All you have to do is ask. I will do whatever you say."
I could hear the devil in her voice. Then she got serious and her voice got tight.
"I do love you, you know. I don't know what you're trying to do, but I am having a hell of a lot more fun than I thought I would. Best ball game I've ever been to. Hint, hint?"
"Oh, we'll get there, all in good time. Now, please send your lovely over here so I can speak with her."
I paused, still holding her close to me.
"I love you, too, Sal, more than life. Cross your fingers that what I have planned works out."
I think that last part shook her a bit. One thing, I only called her 'Sal' when I get dead serious. It was the kind of signal that develops between two people when they get close. My signal told her I was scared and on unfamiliar ground. I wasn't at all sure of the rules of this game or of their reactions. I hoped beyond hope I had not miscalculated the day's events or the roles I had them playing.
It was a game, we all knew it. I knew Sally was having fun. Hell, she needed the stress relief almost more than Janey. Still, she was over-playing it just a bit. I hoped she would tone it down, or I would be molesting them both inside the hour. I'm not made of stone, and while Sally wouldn't have minded, it would have defeated the whole point with Janey.
Sally brought Janey over to me in front of a men's clothing storefront. The girl's bouncing step told me Sally had not said anything to dampen her daughter's behavior. Her nipples peeked up at me, flashing in and out of cover as she came to a stop before me. God, how much longer... Sally started to move away.
"No, Sally, you can stay and listen, if you want. I won't be giving away any secrets."
I grinned at her, and she made an impish face back, getting back into her role for the day. Good.
"Janey, I need you to be serious for a moment and listen carefully. We have had a lot of fun today, and there is more to come, I promise, regardless of what happens now. I know I said I was in charge today, and you and your have given me more credit for being responsible than I deserve. But I can't make the next two choices for you. I'm sorry to have to do this today, in the middle of the fun, but I couldn't avoid it."
I paused, and not for effect. This was touchy ground. Well, best said straight out, right?
"The next two stores have to do with blatantly sexual items..."
Sally's eyes widened. We were standing across the street from a Tack Shop. Her grin made my heart stop, then take off like a rocket. She had just figured out what all the fittings were for in the shops prior to this one. She was pleased. Boy, would I get lucky tonight! When I continued, her expression changed from adoration to mortification.
"...that your and I may make use of in the future. I can't ask you to come in, and I can't make you stay out. If you come in with us, you will be measured, probably by a man, same as your Mom. If you stay outside, I have arranged for you to be some place safe while your and I are inside. The measurements will be extremely personal and a bit uncomfortable. Do you understand? Do you have any questions?"
She was thoughtful for a moment. Like her mom, her ditzy act was just that. She was fully aware of what she was doing.
"If I go in, does it commit me to do anything in the future?"
"No. I would never force you to do anything you don't want to. That's why I'm asking you this."
"If I stay out here, can I still play the ditzy babe?"
"Actually, I have arranged for you to tour the nun's cloister, just around the corner. Only women are allowed in. I don't think it would be appropriate for you to behave in an unseemly way. Do you?
"Nah. What's the next store? Can I skip this one and go to the next. I'm not really into horses and that bestiality crap. That's more her thing."
Sally just about choked on her wad of gum at that. Apparently, they were after each other's goats as well as mine.
"Sorry, it's a take both or leave both offer."
"Do you want me to go in?"
This last was said in a small voice, while desperately searching my eyes for an answer. I leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. She hated that. Now, there was no shrinking away from my lips as I spoke so low only she could here.
"Janey, I only want you to be happy..."
I looked across at Sally, who was waiting intently for Janey's decision. She knew it was one she could not help her with.
"...just like I want your to be happy."
Janey looked at her mother, and I guess they linked or something. They both held out their hands to me and we went in to the Tack Shop together. Me and two very excited cock-teasing nymphettes.
They settled down quickly once we entered the store. I swear Sally had an orgasm from just the aroma of leather that swept over us as we went through the display area. She stopped stock still, then moved as if in a dream over to a display of a riding saddle and some bridles. Equestrian, not human. She let the sensuous leather of the saddle brush across the exposed lower sides of her as she rubbed them back and forth. Her hands first touched and then wound themselves around in the soft caresses of the bridles hanging down from the high ceiling. She was lost in another world.
Janey watched her then turned to look at me with death in her eyes. She had seen this before, had gone through this with her once before. It had not been particularly pleasant for her, either. I could understand her rage.
"I am not Gary. I will not her or expose her to shame. I promise you that, Janey."
I could not say anything else. I think she sensed my hesitation with this bondage stuff that I was being pulled into it by her mother's tremendous needs and desires, not the other way around. She also sensed her mother's intense need. And I think she was also a bit curious about what attracted her into it. She was, after all, her mother's daughter.
The fire receded, leaving a bright twinkle. We understood each other. Kind of.
The owner, a rather in his twenties, came over and greeted me, as had the other shopkeepers. As there were no other customers, he simply locked the door and lowered the "Closed" sign. Turning, he held up two fingers with a questioning look.
I nodded.
He looked at Janey and blushed deeply. I hoped he could get through this with his dignity intact. I had warned him of her beauty, both their beauty, but he was younger, closer to Janey's age. To him, she wasn't as far off limits.
Due to the types of measurements he would need to make, he could not use a clerk. The person had to know the craft. He didn't have a clerk experienced enough, anyway. His only helper, an apprentice of less that 3 months, was even younger than Amud. The apprentice had been given a sudden, unexpected rare day off. The shopkeeper went silently to the back office and opened the door. He signaled to someone inside.
I stiffened immediately. The arrangements had been for absolutely no one else. This was private.
A diminutive figure walked into the showroom. The owner's eyes were beaming with pride. As the short figure came closer, I saw it was a woman, about his age.
"Mr. Sampson. I would like to introduce you my wife, Bala. If is acceptable, she will be the measurements making. She, uh, understands the things you will need, and has suggestions maybe, if it pleases you to hear of them. I apologizes it to you, but I will need it to observe to make sure taping is done correctly and to interpret. She does not speak the good English."
He waited for my consent. Interesting. He had solved his and my problems at the same time. I nodded in agreement.
Chapter 11
The woman next to Amud did not offer her hand. I did not extend mine. She stood two feet behind and to the side of her husband throughout the introduction, her eyes to the floor.
He said something I didn't understand, and I was rewarded with a blinding smile from the eyes of the woman as she looked up for the first time. Her eyes were all that was visible of her face, just above her 'Arabian Nights" veil. Most interesting.
Amud spoke to her and she replied in a firm clear voice. I didn't understand a word.
"Shall we do the fresh one or the happy one first?" her husband interpreted for her.
"Are those her words or are you interpreting her meanings?"
"I am sorry if I have offended you, Mr. Sampson, sir. Please forgive me. I will attempt to make her words better in English."
I laughed. She was a most perceptive person, from her descriptions of two women she had never before met. Her apt descriptions confirmed the intelligence I had seen in those flashing eyes. Yes, she understood 'these things' very well, as I wager the did as well. I would have to talk with him a bit more. I was also curious about what she thought.
"No, Amud. I am very pleased with the words she uses and the way you said them. They are very perceptive. You have reason to be very proud of your wife."
He beamed at her as I said this, interpreting my words to her. She blushed scarlet under the veil at receiving a compliment from another man. I continued when he had finished.
"Amud, I would like to ask you to do something. I am not very familiar with your culture or of 'these things'. If it is allowed, please ask your to speak freely, commenting as she goes through the measuring process. I would like you to translate what she says literally. If you do not know a word, use a word picture, or describe what it does. I would like to ask questions of her as we go along, as well. Would that be allowed?"
He thought about it, chewing it over. He then asked his wife. The discussion was somewhat heated. I wasn't sure who won.
"It is unusual request from strange man. At home, at old home, it would not be allowed for strange to talk to or for him to have to hear worthless prattle from her ugly mouth, even through interpreter. But this is America, our new home. We must learn new ways of new home. Such things are not forbidden by Holy Book. We... excuse please, I will allow it." Ah Ha! His wife had won!
"Wonderful! Then do the fresh one first. I want the happy one to enjoy herself as long as she can."
He relayed the information to his wife. She bowed deeply to him, and waited for his signal to rise. She turned to me and started to bow, but stopped. She looked over at him for direction in this new situation. He said something to her that was apparently permission for her to speak, as she spoke and gestured at me.
"My wishes to thank you for this opportunity, but says it is dangerous to bow to untrained stallion, most likely get head kicked in. Please forgive her ugly mouth, Mr. Sampson, sir!"
He was clearly embarrassed by her description of me, though, in a way, I was pleased. But then I thought that the term 'stallion' might mean something different to her than the of raw male power it brought to my mind. Either way, I had asked for it and I would take it. I told him as much, and begged him to continue without apologizing for her. I would take no offense, as I was sure none was intended. He nodded.
We followed along as she led Janey into a side room. I stood at the door where I could keep an eye on Sally, who stayed behind in the showroom. There was a table off to one side. I ran my hand over the assortment of leather objects, all made with exquisite craftsmanship. I picked up a supple whip to admire the handiwork.
I looked up as a sharp command from the woman that was addressed to Janey, who had been standing off to one side, looking bored. The woman's change of personality was surprising, as suddenly, when speaking to Janey, she was in command.
"Please to remove clothing, lady."
I raised my eyebrow questioningly at him. He lowered his eyes in apology.
"Strip!"
Janey looked over at me questioningly, bringing a tirade from the woman, pointing her finger at her own chest.
"You look me. I say what is, now! Yes?"
She moved to place herself between Janey and I, and stood very close to her face, fixing her with her eyes. I saw the fear in Janey's expression suddenly vanish as she watched the woman. Later she said she did not see any bad things in them, just excitement and laughter.
Janey shed her clothing without another protest, even going so far as to fold them neatly in a pile to one side.
Pulling out a tape measure, the foreign woman began measuring Janey in minute detail. Each finger was measured for length and diameter, exact distances between her wrist and elbows, elbows and underarm, and so on. The woman would measure and write down a measurement on a clipboard. She worked in silence for a while, moving Janey's limbs as necessary.
When she was through with her torso and limbs, she began measuring Janey's head. She took every possible measure around, across, mouth opened, mouth closed, turning left and right, and tipped forward and back. She picked up a series of several metal bars and rings. She put one bar after the other into Janey's mouth until she was satisfied she had the largest size that would fit. With Janey's mouth still open, she used her index finger to touch the soft palate in the back of her mouth. Janey gagged at the touch.
"You must be tougher to long, fat hoses, fresh one. Not good to bite off hose of Master.
She put the metal pieces back on the table, and addressed Janey.
"Make points!"
Janey, to her credit, addressed her, and not me. Amud translated for his wife.
"Points? Make what points? I don't understand."
She stepped back as if stunned. Turning to her husband, she made a wild gesture and said something. He pointed at me, and shrugged.
His turned to me and started talking slowly, as if to an idiot. Her husband's eyes grew wide with fear. I looked at him expectantly, silently ordering him to translate.
"You lazy worm! You bring me stupid cow to make trouble. Waste of time to train this late. Better to sell to house for sailors. Eeii! May your hose drop off before you make more worthless babies. This one's training not even started. How can you expect her to sing for Gods, if she can not do things babies learn? Eeii. Tell her, 'make points!' Tell her, 'make dew!' Maybe she do for you!"
"I apologize for my ignorance. We..." I gestured to myself and the two "...are new to 'these things' and have a lot to learn. Please explain to us what you mean. What are points? What is dew? Don't be afraid of insulting us, and please do not despise us. This is not a part of our culture, but we wish to learn. Please, help us."
She stood there with a look of disbelief on her face.
"Your words say one thing, and when I see your stupid face and this worthless cow, I believe you. But then I hear the happy one sing, and I think you lying. You do know some things."
"Singing?
"Are you deaf as well as stupid? Listen to her with your ears, your heart and your worthless hose."
I turned to watch Sally. Her hands were now extended far over her head, and she had knotted the hanging leather straps in loops through which she slipped her wrists. The short T-shirt was clear above her breasts, which were as firm and taut as I had ever seen them. Her shorts were on the ground beneath her as her feet hung above the ground by several inches. The smooth side of the saddle against which she leaned caught her right at the juncture of her thighs. She was slowly rocking her hips in a forward and back motion, rubbing her mound against the saddle. There was a large wet stain on the leather.
As it got quiet in the room and I concentrated, I could hear the faint sounds of her moaning, but nothing else. I turned questioningly to the impatient woman.
"You not hear her? She is not good, but she is singing." She made a sound, making fun of the moans coming from Sally. "Need much practice, but she has nice voice."
"You will need to teach us as children. She, uh, likes to sing. She needs to sing better."
The woman gave an exasperated sigh.
"Eeii. Children in my father's house know more. OK. Listen close."
She stepped around behind Janey who had been standing quietly. The woman reached around the and lightly touched her fingers to the tips of her breasts. Janey flinched as if shocked.
"Hey! Stop that! Ouch! Larry, make her stop. I don't want this anymore."
The small woman immediately released the girl. She went over to the table and picked up a leather item. She turned and addressed me.
"Noisy cow. We use hose stuffed with dung at home. Now just use this for quietness. OK?"
She held up a penis gag and gestured at Janey. The girl's eyes widened at the size of the gag. I nodded to the woman to continue.
"Laaarryy! NO! Please, I'll be qui...mmmff."
Her protests were silenced as the gag slid home and was fastened behind her neck.
"There. Keeps silence in tent. If cow not good, can use in bottom before make quiet. Once, twice, maybe, she learn quietness."
Janey's eyes bulged as she realized the woman might have used this as a butt plug in someone else before putting it in her mouth. From her position behind Janey, I could see the twinkle in the woman's eye. I could have sworn she winked at me, as well, but I didn't know if her culture allowed that.
I also noted that with all her protests, Janey had not made one step to flee, or to move towards me for protection. If she had, I would have stopped everything immediately.
"Relax, Janey. I told you it would be very intimate and personal. Don't fight her, OK? Just enjoy."
She tensed slightly as the woman again cupped her breasts from behind and massaged her nipples to erection, but then relaxed as the woman's expert touch aroused her passions quickly. Janey's breath quickened and became irregular. The woman stepped away from the panting girl.
"Points. Points are here."
Her hand wandered down to the soft downy hair covering Janey's pussy. Her hand moved slightly, and then a single slim finger disappeared between the tight folds.
"Dew is here. EEEE! Here is also point!"
She went swiftly over to Sally and gently felt between her legs, without disturbing her trance-like state. Returning, she spoke directly to her husband, speaking excitedly. She then turned and bowed deeply to me while he spoke.
"My worthless apologizes for bad names she said about you. You are brave man, to have two women with all points in house. Your hose must be truly strong. You are brave and foolish. But I help teach you to make sing without hose. Save hose for making babies. Not too late if cows have third point."
I had heard of the practice of clitorectomy - female circumcision - still occurring in some countries, but thought it was outlawed. Apparently it was not. I asked Amud about it.
"Old burn off lower point of brides. Take life out of bride, but can then have many brides. They no fight, they no care."
He turned defiant, as if remembering an argument.
"I not an man. I leave home. One bride, all points."
He appeared to be challenging me to contradict his decision. He had left his family, his home and his country for the love he had for his wife. I bowed as deeply as I could to him.
"No! No, Mr. Sampson, I am worthless son of sheepherder. No bow."
I stood back up. "Amud, that may have been what you were before. What I see now is a brave with a pure heart and a true gift. Not just your craft. You have the rare gift of true love for your wife, and a rare wife, a treasure. It is for that I bow to you."
He was thoughtful for a moment, considering what I said. He nodded once, as if agreeing with what I had said, and then spoke to his wife. I don't know what was said, but from that point on, she was much less critical, more instructive.
Chapter 12
"We finish now with fresh one, OK? Come, stand here."
The woman led Janey over to a spot in the middle of the floor. She moved behind her and cupped Janey's breasts, massaging them for sometime, murmuring soothingly in her ear. Janey responded to the gentle touch and the hypnotic sounds and was soon gasping for air through her nose, her mouth still gagged.
The woman brought her swiftly to the edge and with an instinctive skill, never letting her go over. Janey's eyes soon lost their focus and her facial features slackened. I didn't know if she was lost in erotic sensations or if the woman had hypnotized her. It was incredible to watch. I wanted to learn how do it, too.
The woman let go of Janey and took up her tape measure. She took a circumference measure of each of the dazed girl's swollen tits, at the base, the mid-point and at the nipple. Amud's made a small mark with a pen on Janey's breastbone and measured how far below this mark on the sternum the center of the erect nipple was. It was a measure of the sag of her breasts.
The woman took one of Janey's arms and raised it over her head. A leather strap at the end of a hanging tether was quickly wrapped around the docile girl's wrist. The other arm followed. With both arms raised overhead, the woman again measured the distance from the sternum mark to her nipples. This was a measure of the lift in her caused by raising her arms.
The last measure the small woman made with the tape was the length of the erect nipples. She turned to me.
"She bring good price, if want to sell. I buy for Amud. You name price, I pay, no haggle."
When I looked shocked, she laughed. It was a low chuckle, sensuous and musical.
"Good man." She smiled, almost sadly, and added, "But not knowing will them one day. You must learn, too, and soon." I was baffled by her statements. Amud made no attempt to clarify them.
That said she moved back to Janey's side. "See here, touchy milk sacs, firm, like good cheese, size of prized oranges. Will take whip well, make sing like angel. Very nice match with rest of carcass. Fresh one has three-ring points, most cows only one ring. Points are good firmness, stay hard long time. See? Still hard! I touch not since start. If you want I show you make holes for first rings. I use fresh needle. No charge extra."
She was talking about piercing Janey's nipples with not one, but three pairs of rings. As much as that intrigued me - hell, I got rock hard thinking about it - I had promised her she would not be harmed. Piercing would have to be her informed choice, not this way. I thanked the woman, but told her we would do that later, not this visit. She almost looked disappointed, like I had wussed out.
She then took one of Janey's ankles and lifted it straight forward and up. The higher she lifted without resistance, the more excited she got. They didn't have cheerleaders in the country, apparently. Janey's foot pointed straight up in a vertical split.
"EEE. You sure no training? Impossible!"
The first leg was lowered and the other leg's flexibility was tested with the same results. Then she fastened a long strap hanging from the ceiling around Janey's ankle and lifted her leg out and up so that it was parallel to the ground. The other leg followed. Janey was hanging suspended from her wrists and ankles. Her head tipped slowly back as her breathing quickened slightly.
Amud's then spread the outstretched legs as far apart as they would go without forcing. With Janey's private areas fully exposed in this position she took her hand and used it to measure the length of the slit, how far it spread, and, with her slender finger, poked up inside her the entire length. This activity had an effect on the hanging and she began moaning through the gag.
"Fresh one almost sing. Like mother, need practice. Lucky man." She paused. "Sorry bad take flower of Fresh one. But no left, here or in head. She still tight for long nights use with hose. Good as path, uh, back for long time." Amud had apparently told her the of Janey's attack. Her evaluation of Janey's prognosis comforted me in a way the doctor's evaluations hadn't. Her assessment of Janey seemed more holistic, more practical. It was definitely less clinical.
She looked longingly at Janey's hanging form. Then turned to me.
"Fresh one done. Now Happy one?"
"Wait. Before you let her down..."
I hesitated, thinking hard. This wasn't planned, but Janey was still in a euphoric state. I needed to know what had done it.
"...why is she so aroused? What did you do to make her like that?"
Amud grinned at me and answered for his wife.
"We soak gag in special sauce. Make new bride sing easy. Bride want sing more. Fresh one not need much. Almost ready to sing now."
My look of alarm at the news of their drugging Janey without my knowledge or permission must have frightened him. He hurried on. "Sauce used in my country for centuries. Here, too, by many people. Is all natural, medicine, not bad drug like brown shit my people grow in poppy fields. It not last long, not make you want more. I make myself, in kitchen." He lowered his voice. "Use on my own precious beloved for special, uh, things. On self, too, for learning.
"So sorry, not know you not use sauce. Please forgive. Only use to help sing."
Oh, well, spilt milk, and it didn't appear to be addictive. Something that effective would never get past FDA anyway...
I gestured at Janey with the whip I had picked up earlier.
"Could you make her sing now?"
"EEEEEEE!"
I dropped the whip. The screaming woman came over and picked it up. She handed it back, fire in her eyes.
"Cruel master use cannon to smash fly. This big stick for Happy One. Make her sing for Gods all night, maybe two if master know good tricks. Fresh One not ready yet for big stick. Later. Year, maybe more, maybe less. Then use big stick." She paused, thinking. "Please wait..."
She turned to Amud and spoke more sharply to him than I had heard her address him until now. His eyes grew wide, but he kept silent. Only once did he begin to object, but his gently, but firmly, overrode his objection. She turned and left the room.
"Mr. Sampson, sir. My wishes me to explain of a special tradition in my country. It is only used on certain occasions. And only in, uh, intimate times. It brings women very close. Normally only done by family." He paused, swallowing a large chunk of pride. "My never address me such in front of no one. Not family. Not strangers. Strong feelings for Fresh one, Happy one, too. She say she can help her in head go away, in heart, too.
"My act like new woman today. I wanted her change long time for new home. But now not know if I like. Feel strange."
His eyes were still wide, as he watched his re- enter the room. She held a long strip of thin leather in her hand. As he saw what it was, he choked on a dying protest. Her defiant glare stopped it before he could say it.
"She will make the Fresh one sing in the tradition of the Princess. A Princess only touched by finest material. The strip of leather she have in hand called a 'Princess Thong.'
"This thong has a special place in our culture. When daughter betrothed, she take long leather strips and soak in brine many months. She then place one in her private place to soak for one month before ceremony. It painful for women..."
He blushed in embarrassment
"...but effective way to stop making of the baby." He grinned involuntarily, as he added, "Bride also stay tight as first time, even after many babies."
His was making knots in the long strip along its entire length, about an inch apart. She pulled them tight with her teeth. Amud continued.
"Thong takes 6 months to prepare. It must stay moist with dew and warm, so bride keep in her at all times except when husband wishes to use her parts.
"When thong is completely supple like linen but very strong, bride present it to husband. For such a gift of herself to him, her husband must give gift of her choosing. Of course, gift settled when betrothed. Normal gift chosen is she-goat."
His was about half way through knotting the thong. He looked at her lovingly.
"My chose gift of baby, which I would give her without thong." He explained, "You must understand, Mr. Sampson, I, we wish to have big family, but do not wish to be forced to return home as paupers. Many babies are expensive. My fertile for many more years. Her choice of gift was her way of letting me decide when we start family."
I looked puzzled. I had followed most of this strange custom, but this logic escaped me.
"A bride must present thong before special gift chosen can be given. Ever. No thong. No gift. No baby for my wife. My has started 6 thongs. Each time one near finish, I, uh, take and hide it. She starts again. Brine hurts bride, but less than poverty.
"As long as I alert and can capture the thong, I control when we make babies. It is game, as is all life. She is very good player, very tricky, very smart. I see now she much better than I at this game."
This was a momentous admission and a compliment about a woman to a stranger on top of that.
He explained. "Thongs have value. Much value. Because of pain, many brides do not wish to make for selves. So they buy from other women. The closer to completion, the more value. That thong she has is best of all thongs I have stolen. Is only two, maybe three days from finish. I almost lose.
"It was thong I had best. If she knows this one, she knows all."
He looked at me in shame and bewilderment.
"She ordered me - ordered! - to tell you what she doing. She never talked to me like that before. And how am I to control this woman, when she let me win? If she wins from low position, what will become of us here in America as more equal? How will I win then, if she is so smart now?"
I sympathized with this befuddled husband. He had just learned he was only along for the ride in his relationship. And he was the horse, not the rider. Fortunately, his rider was a loving intelligent woman who loved him very much. I moved over and clapped my arm around his shoulder, sort of fatherly, sort of like a comrade in arms. He flinched, but did not pull away from the familiarity of my touch.
"Welcome to the club, Amud. I learned long ago that are never in control, when it comes to women. They only let us think we are, sometimes. Be thankful for her love for you. Be sure to respect her and love her. It's the only way to survive with them."
He grinned ruefully and nodded his agreement.
His was almost ready to begin.
Chapter 13
Amud and I watched from one side as his completed her preparations. Before she started, she removed the gag from Janey's mouth. She brought it to me and said something as she reverently placed it in my hands.
"This is gift for you for the Fresh one. It will help her want to sing. Now, I want to show you how to begin good song."
She turned and walked to the gently swaying form. She ran her hands softly over Janey's firm body, touching every square centimeter of her skin from head to toe. The thong was wound around her right hand like tape on a boxer's hands. She brought the supple leather to every part of Janey. Soft sounds came from the woman working on the girl, a crooning from a to her child.
Amud whispered his comments as we observed this ritual: "This is traditional preparation of Princess for wedding night. This is done every night for one month before nuptials. By time of wedding night, she so ready for her husband, she go willingly to bed of fattest, ugly groom." He looked at me with a grin. "All princesses dream of handsome prince, but never enough to go around, especially ones with political connections or money. Ritual can be continued after first preparation wears off to ensure an heir."
His face clouded as he continued. "I have been privileged to see this only once before, when my beloved prepared my for wedding night with Adar. Him camel dung merchant. Lea, my was prepared for two months before her wedding. It was not long enough. Much screaming when he was revealed to her at ceremony. Maybe help if he bathed, but he is stubborn man. She not been heard from since she passed behind her flap in his tent." With a pained look he continued. "That is her only refuge. As long as she stays behind flap, he may not touch her or command her. But if she comes out, he has promised to take her third point - with his teeth, rotten though they are. My beloved was very close to Lea. Tried to make her accept her Fate. It crushed her that she failed her only friend.
"This is the first time she use skills since that time. See how she move hands over tender flesh. See glow that come to surface after hands pass over. They say leather of thong is magic that is a power in it. I believe it is power and magic of wielder. My beloved is the best."
After a thoughtful pause, he added. "My beloved not fail my sister. Adar is ugliest in empire. He desired my sister's hand for years, since she was seven years old. My refused him. Adar set up crooked gambling game at bazaar. Had he shown his face, my father would have not played. But Adar used friend of my father's to lure him to table. He lost everything. Adar came in and picked up notes my sign. He gave my a choice: or poverty.
"Pride is terrible sin. My reasoned if we in poverty, my be prostitute. It is better to be bride, yes? Last words she said to father, not in anger, were she would rather have babies making honest living than make sons for Adar. My is grieving, empty shell, sitting in tent alone. He has not called a wife to his tent in three years. They laugh at him behind his back.
"Maybe poverty is not so bad." The thong was now hanging loose from one hand, doubled over with the two ends free. There were no knots in the last 6 to 8 inches of each end of the strap, leaving the leather flat. These twin flat strips were slapped gently over the reddened skin, increasing the flow of blood to the surface. "Ah, this is favorite part. This is where body of princess becomes confused, believing pain is pleasure. See dew forming, and points standing, begging my beloved to strike them."
Amud's swung the free ends in a figure '8', making rapid fire 'slap-slap' sounds as she covered Janey's body with a deeper glow from the gentle whipping. She would switch hands often, never missing a beat, like a prizefighter training on a speed bag. With each successive pass over Janey's ruddy flesh, the strikes became a little harder. Then harder still.
"Now comes final part. She sings for my beloved, a cry to the gods for her groom." With a flick of her hands, the thong reversed itself and she was now holding on to the free ends, leaving the knotted double strand to strike Janey. The blows were hard now, and I could see beads of perspiration dotting the skin above the woman's veil. Her arm never slowed. The sounds changed to a 'snap-snap' as the knots struck. After a few strikes, she was satisfied Janey was ready. She started the final phases of the ritual.
A sound as clear as a note from a flute emanated from the bowed frame of the teen. She had been hanging in a more-or-less sitting position before. Now, as the knots beat down on her nipples and pussy, she arched up, legs and arms outstretched, into a curved bow.
"Oh God! Larry!" I felt a hand slip into mine and squeeze tight. I turned slightly to see Sally staring at her daughter's ongoing climax. She had come in as Amud's had begun the final phase.
The blows to her sensitive areas came at the same rate as the ones prior, keeping her climax going and going and going. It was only when her strength was gone that the bound teen collapsed in her bonds. She was sound asleep.
Sally tugged at my sleeve. "Larry, I want..."
I placed a finger to her lips to keep her quiet.
"Larry, I want..." She was more insistent this time, and louder.
Again I shushed her, but this time I turned to Amud and held up the gag that had been used on Janey with a questioning look. He shook his head, looked over the items on the table, and pointed to another one. I picked it up and slipped it in her mouth before she could say another word. I didn't know if it was laden with the special drug or not.
As I tied it behind her neck, I placed a kiss on her gagged mouth. Strangely, that seemed to please her. She knelt gracefully on the floor beside me and watched as Amud's talented continued with Janey's song.
The thong was now held in both hands, one end in each. Using long strokes, the thong was passed over each erect nipple in several directions. Each knot jarred the sensitive flesh as the thong brushed by it, shocking the unconscious brain of the teen. An ululating sound filled the small room. Amud gasped. "This is called 'Ecstasy of True Princess.' I have only heard whispers of it before. Only most sensual females are receptive to it. I have heard there is one more step on ladder of... Oh, yes! Watch and listen!"
The thong was slipped between the spread legs of the singing girl. Bala had one hand in front of Janey and one behind her ass. The hard knots of the thong were pulled back and forth over her overheated clitoris and anus. The notes we heard rose as the speed of the thong increased.
I was still entranced with the haunting sounds coming from the hanging when I realized the woman was standing before me, holding the thong out to me to accept. Before taking it, I bowed deeply to her, and said simply, "I am honored by your gifts."
When I looked up, Amud was beaming at her with pride.
I held Janey in my arms as she was released. She was resting comfortably, relaxed. Her head rested on my shoulder. I could hear a contented purring, very feline. As I held her, she nuzzled into my and vibrated as aftershocks of her experience rippled through her body. A heavy sigh followed.
Amud's came over to Sally and held out her hand to her. Sally looked up at me and I nodded my assent for her to go with the dark woman. She rose from her knees as gracefully as she had gone down, stripped off her remaining items of clothing, and waited for the woman's next command. The drug from the saturated gag was beginning to have its effect on her as I could see a glazed, haunted look in her eyes as she looked longingly at the leather straps and cuffs hanging from the ceiling. Her desire for the confinement offered by them was palpable.
I held the quieting teenager as Amud and I observed Sally's measurement session. Her session followed pretty much what Janey's had been before, though I thought there was much more touching by his this time. The gag stayed in place until she had to place the metal bar and rings in her mouth. I later learned these were sizing bits for bridle and o-ring gags.
Sally allowed her wrists to be secured over her head. Amud's used a bar about 3 feet long to do this, securing a wrist at each end. The spreader bar hung from the ceiling by a single rope attached to the center of the bar. Sally could be spun around without untying her simply by hoisting her up off her feet and giving her a push.
After the flexion of her legs was confirmed to be only slightly less that her daughter's, her ankles were attached to each end of another bar, spreading them about the same width as her hands. She was not spread wide as Janey had been, but she was open. The upper bar was raised until Sally's lean body was stretched tight.
The dark woman's eyes danced as she picked up the whip I had been handling before. Amud translated. "Happy one sing now? I know late, but not take long. She very ready. I do quick, but very good. I no leave mark, like some master. Yes?"
"Yes. But there is no hurry."
"Wise master takes time for important things. Singing important." She offered me the whip. "You make sing? I am happy to teach, or to hold Fresh one."
I smiled at her offer and shook my head 'No.'
She wasted no time. The first stroke fell across the front of Sally's thighs. The second fell quickly after the first, landing just slightly higher. The sounds of the whipping echoed like gunshots in the small room, but there was little evidence of the strokes on her fair skin. The whip fell quickly up and down, each stroke slightly closer to her center.
When there was a single stroke before her sensitive pussy would be the target, the woman changed hands and began to make a checkerboard of stripes on the skin of her flat stomach. These blows were harder, as the marks were easily visible, but by the time the last ones were laid down, the first ones had already faded.
I had assumed Sally would begin her song with the first stroke, so I was surprised that there was no sound. I could feel Janey stirring in my arms, and as I looked down, she turned her head to observe her being whipped. She watched as the whip was worked up and down both arms, extending the transient marks into her mother's sensitive armpits.
As Sally was re-positioned with her back to us, Janey reached up and pulled my ear close to her mouth.
"Mom is getting ready to explode. I can feel it clear over here. That lady is really good." She kissed my cheek gently, "Did you like my song, Larry? I sang it for you."
"I liked it so well, I may have you sing it every night," I teased her, squeezing tight. I was pleased at her deep blush.
Sally's whipping continued with the soft soles of her feet and worked up to the base of her neck without stop. Her flesh was a cherry red, but no one mark was visible more than another. With all this, she had still not climaxed. I was beginning to feel the tension within her myself. I think we were all being carried along the building crest of the tsunami, looking for a shore to crash upon.
With a smooth move, Sally was turned to face us once more. Holding the whip like a dueling sword, Amud's wife pointed the quivering tip of the whip at one of Sally's straining nipples. There was a pause, as a conductor lets the anticipation build in silence before the final notes of a concert. Then the tip of baton moved with a flick of her wrist, beating a rapid tattoo on the sensitive flesh.
Sally's voice erupted in a scream, so different from Janey's that I was frightened for her. Amud's wife, however, seemed determined to draw it out even more as she switched to the other nipple. The sound crescendoed in the room as the speed of the flagellating tip increased its rhythm. The tip lingered over her nipple until the dark woman was satisfied she could extract no more.
Amud, Janey and I all held our breath as we watched the tormenting tip drop to point directly at the splayed dripping crotch. Sally, even in her delirious state tried to thrust her groin towards the tip, urging, begging for the final contact. Janey tightened her grip around my neck and shuddered with a gasp. The link, or whatever they enjoyed between them, had allowed her to share in her mother's climax.
The tip dropped lower and then flashed up and in with a jarring intensity. Sally's voice was silenced at this seemingly vicious attack on her most sensitive of areas. Amud's hand caught my arm as I charged forward to protect her. He simply nodded at her, asking me without words to trust his whip-wielding wife. It was hard to do.
A second and third blow fell on the exposed tender cunt. Then the tip of the whip found its final target. With a sigh, Sally released the tension that had been building. Had I not seen it, I would not have believed that the quietness of her climax was mega-times the intensity of her violent ones. Janey was stiff in my arms, lost in her own climax, the feelings she got from her over their link having overwhelmed her.
Then it was over.
Chapter 14
After a surprisingly short rest, both regained their perkiness of before, and we prepared to leave. As we left, the three women embraced each other tenderly. I looked at Amud and smiled, holding out my hand. He took both of mine in his in a sign of friendship.
"Would you and your consider visiting us sometime? There are so many questions I have, so much I have to learn." I paused, a little embarrassed at my admissions. "Sally is so far ahead of me. I do not want to lose her."
He grinned broadly. "I, uh, we would be proud to visit. My has no one to talk to here. This is her first journey from our home in many months. It is hard to keep our customs in this open land. Yes, we would be most pleased."
We exchanged addresses, and found that his house was surprisingly close to ours. His anticipation of the visit was palpable, and we set the date for one week later, dinner. I told him I would call him to make sure we complied with all the necessary customs to make his visit to our home comfortable. When he looked surprised, I told him I would not want to place him in a position where he or his would be offended or insulted by something offered or done. He seemed amused and amazed at that concept.
The next stop on the afternoon's itinerary was several blocks away, and after an invigorating walk, the two vixens were back in full form. Worse, if I was any judge. There was not a single passerby who was not flashed by twin high beams peeking out from under those short tops, male and female alike. I was beginning to wonder if we would make it to the next shop without being attacked.
I loosened the retaining safety strap on the holster of the pistol in the small of my back, just in case. I had not told Sally of the gun. I had never brought it into her house, but always kept it in the car. We had not discussed guns, and I didn't know how she felt about them. It was her house, after all and I wasn't about to bring it in without discussing it first. But after the way breakfast had gone, I figured I was better prepared than unprepared. I had quietly slipped the gun out from under the driver's seat after breakfast.
The crowds thinned out and were completely gone as we turned the last corner. We made our way without incident to an unmarked door for the next appointment. We stepped into a plain entry way and then down a long hall to a small shop in the back of the deep building. The silence grew as we drew closer to a heavy door.
"Will a boogie-man jump out at us behind the door?"
I grinned and then yelled "BOOOO" while jumping sideways. Both my companions screamed satisfactorily, and then fell on me, beating me ineffectively with their clenched fists. We were still laughing and play- fighting - with me losing - when the door swung silently open.
"So, you're finally here. Only ten minutes late. Better than I expected, given the ambitious schedule you had." A tall woman stood in the open doorway, looking down her nose at us regally. She addressed us in short, clipped sentences in accented English. Her gray-blonde hair was pulled back into a severe bun. She looked slowly back and forth between the two skimpily dressed women in the hall, examining them in turn, finally settling on Janey. "So, she came too. That is good."
Turning away from the entrance, she simply said, "Come."
Confronted with this daunting woman, the were silent for once and we followed her through a small empty waiting room and continued into a room populated with clinical equipment. Two identical exam tables were set up, side by side. Each station was 'manned' by a younger version of the woman standing in readiness beside it.
The woman turned to us. "I am Dr. Rosen. These are my daughters, Dr. Rosen and Dr. Rosen." She allowed herself a small smile as she saw the confusion and amusement on our faces.
Janey handled it the best, as she immediately stuck out her hand and said first to the elder lady, "Nice to meetcha, Dr. Rosen." She went over to the nearest daughter, "Nice to meetcha, Dr. Rosen," and then to the second daughter, "Nice to meetcha, too, Dr., uh, sorry, I didn't catch your name...?" The shocked look on the second daughter's face was priceless and brought a tremendous guffaw from her mother.
With that, the ice was broken and we all relaxed with a good laugh. I made introductions and Sally and Janey learned the women's names were Helga, Inga, and Uta, in that order. And that the preferred "Dr. Rosen."
"Very good Miss Janey, not many people can top our introduction. I enjoyed the laugh." Businesslike once more, Dr. Rosen continued, "Now. Janey, you will go with Uta. Sally, you go with Inga. I will supervise. You, Mr. Sampson, may watch. But in silence, please."
An interesting attitude for a shopkeeper, but the good Dr. Rosen was used to having her way. She was also one of very few experts I could have turned to for the particular help I sought. I stayed quiet and out of the way as I watched the two lab-coated women efficiently strip my charges, help them up onto the two exam tables, fit their legs in the stirrups, and strap down their legs and arms. Their legs were spread wide, much wider than necessary for a simple exam. Then again, this was not going to be a simple exam.
I caught each of their concerned looks and nodded reassuringly just as the gas masks descended and they were instructed to count backwards from 100. Neither made it past 97.
Dr. Helga Rosen's specialty was the study of female arousal. Rather than just studying how it happened, however, she wanted to be able make it happen on command, to control it. Over the course of her lifetime, she had developed and invented a wide variety of electronic and pharmaceutical methods of achieving it, most of which made the commercially available sex toys look laughable in comparison. I was tempted to tell her of Amud's sauce, but declined, deciding to save it for a later visit.
I had discovered the three Dr. Rosens on a trip to Norway. After much persuasion, I convinced them that the need for their services was greater in America than in their homeland. It took some doing, transferring medical degrees between countries and getting visas, but they had eventually arrived with a trunk full of clothes and their heads full of ideas.
The boutique atmosphere of The Guild attracted thousands of frustrated rich women, many of whom found their way to the small waiting room we had passed through. Business had been slow for about a week. Then word of mouth started the phones ringing. The three Dr. Rosens had not slowed down since. It had been a tremendous favor to me to get this time scheduled for Sally and Janey on such short notice, but they were appreciative of my efforts and support, including a couple of talks with Judge Hawthorne to facilitate their paperwork when they arrived.
I wondered briefly how the Judge's and would react to the good doctors' handiwork. If there were women immune to orgasm, I imagine it would have to be one or both of those two. Time would tell. He had mentioned at the restaurant something about looking for some 'major changes' in a few months. He hadn't specified work, but his obviously thought so. Maybe I should talk with Dr. Rosen and set up a visit for the two Hawthorn women. I would also suggest a few modifications to their normal procedure.
But, for now, my two treasures were about to become the most recent recipients of an accumulated 30 years of research and experience on inducing the female orgasm. I hoped we all would benefit.
Sally was into bondage. That was painfully obvious to me. I, on the other hand, had been hooked on technical gadgets since I discovered I could attach a motor with an offset gear to a chair and give my a thrill. My was than I, and a whole lot smarter, as attested by her current lofty position as a Federal judge. The only way I thought I could compete with her was to keep her distracted. I later found out - she told me, out of pity, I think - that only the first time I used the motor had it been a surprise. She had watched me building the contraption in our small apartment, and my childish manipulations to get her to sit on that particular wooden chair in the kitchen had been painfully transparent. She knew I wasn't mean enough - or brave enough - to her or shock her, so she let herself be manipulated into the seat.
You could have heard the on/off switch in the next apartment when it went off, and there was a distinct smell of burning insulation as the motor kicked in. The chair just about rattled across the floor, but the effect on her was a surprise, a pleasant surprise. Very pleasant for her. She patiently, eagerly suffered through my modifications, sometimes sitting for hours in that noisy vibrating chair until the downstairs neighbor would complain. She admitted she thoroughly enjoyed most of the revisions, and admitted adding some acting and sound effects to encourage me.
My technical skills improved as I grew older, but never came close to what the Rosens could do. I had never had the courage to try my handiwork on anyone other than my sister, and we had never done anything more sexual with each other than that. My plans and designs were the stuff of fantasies and week-long wet dreams. Never in my life had I dreamed my fantasies could be real.
I had promised Sally and Janey they wouldn't be hurt, and they wouldn't. There would be no scarring, no marks and no pain. But there would be some tiny additions to their bodies that weren't there before their visit. If things worked out, they would never know they were there. Until I set them off.
The Rosen's specialty was small stimulators that could be slipped into or onto a woman's body and controlled, either via a computer chip program or a sophisticated remote control or by simple physical pressure on the device. The miniaturization of their products would have made the Japanese envious. Each unit was custom fit and was individually tuned to the woman's body.
I watched as Inga and Uta taped electrodes to the sedated girls. The first step of the process was to find the most receptive areas, the erogenous zones, of the woman. Each woman had her own individual 'hot spots'. When found, they could be fitted with the appropriate device. The 'hot spots' were located by giving a series of stimuli, electric shocks, to various areas and then measuring the brain patterns via electrodes placed over the sexual pleasure centers in the brain.
The location process was begun in the two, and immediately there was a commotion in the lab. Inga would stimulate Sally, and Uta would record a response in Janey. The link that they kept referring to between the and was measurable and real.
The Rosen's, all three of them, were astounded. They made some hushed comments to each other, and, at my suggestion, moved the exam tables as far apart as possible. There was still some interference between the girls, but they were able to finish the necessary measurements.
The second step was to make castings of the intimate areas of their bodies, inside, as well as outside. A pliable material was injected into the mouth, and rectum of each and carefully molded around their aroused clits and breasts. The material hardened and retained the impressions of every nook and cranny of the cavities. A vibrator made from one of these impressions would fit neatly up inside and would hardly be perceptible until activated.
The third step was to make measurements of the maximum size that could be accommodated in each of the cavities without injury. This is usually larger than most women think, and smaller than fantasize. By determining it clinically, with the women sedated and relaxed, the damage to their clients was kept to a minimum while satisfying the fantasies of their male counterparts.
The external units designed by the Rosens were both mechanical and electrical, with more and more accomplished with electricity. Vibrations were nice, providing tactile feelings that could be felt by both parties. Shocks directly to the sexually receptive areas, however, created a much wider variety of possible stimuli and allowed for a greater range of intensity all with a very small device. I elected to go with the smallest devices, all electric.
The larger units, designed to without damaging, started as smaller, soft units that could be expanded after insertion. They used heat and cold as well as electricity, motion and vibration to stimulate the tissues. The Clinic's female clients called these devices 'diabolical,' and quite addictive. Most had never before been as filled during a sexual event. Word of mouth had made the 'cunt-busters' one of the most popular purchases in The Guild.
The implanted biochemical units were complicated, but were the result of an accidental discovery by Inga. She had discovered a naturally occurring substance in the blood that amplified the sexual experience. It worked in both and women, but better in women. After several years of trials, they had developed a tiny device that would collect and store the naturally occurring substance from the person's own blood. This resulted in reservoirs of the stimulant that could be called upon at will. There was enough of the chemical stored in one device to keep a woman in orgasm for about three days. Continuously.
The small devices, as originally designed, were activated by pressure. That meant they needed to be located just under the skin over the pubic bone of the woman. When pounding a penis, dildo or fingers into a woman during coitus, the partner would compress the small device and the chemical would be released, providing the woman with a thrilling and long climax.
The Rosens had had relative success in Norway, and that was where I had found them. They incorporated my idea of a remote release into the biochemical devices, allowing the woman to experience a totally unexpected thrill at someone else's choosing, as well as having the stimulant released by pressure. The devices, now resembling small, flexible micro-tubes of soft plastic, could now be placed anywhere in the body. The location of the device in any area turned that body part into a highly sensitive erogenous zone.
When implanted into a woman's body, it was entirely undetectable by touch or mammography. Self-sustaining, it filtered the small amounts of the woman's own chemical sex-enhancer from her blood and stored it until it received a signal or pressure. It was released in tiny amounts that would just enhance or jumpstart the erotic experience, but not leave the woman a blithering idiot. Even if it malfunctioned and all the reserve was dumped at once, it would only give the woman the best thrill of her life - for a few days. That was a side effect they felt they could live with. Production of the tiny tubes was begun.
Sales in America took off. Some women came in by themselves. Most were referred, or brought in by the men in their lives. Some were scheduled by desperate males without their knowledge, like the Hawthorne women would probably be. After about a week, the time it took the tubes to completely load up, the women were hornier and enjoying sex as never before. Their partners were reaping benefits too.
The implants for Sally and Janey went in without a hitch. As they were reviving, Helga pulled me to one side.
"Mr. Sampson, you are familiar with our research, so I don't need to explain it to you. We have made some, uh, interesting discoveries in your, uh, friends."
"Dr. Rosen," I interrupted, "I do believe you are nervous." I smiled. "Please. Relax. Tell me straight out."
She looked at the floor for a while, the stared me right in the eye, and blushed. "We, uh, I, uh, Oh, dear." She sat down behind her desk. I began to be slightly fearful of what they had found.
"We ran some additional tests. You may have noticed the excitement between Inga and Uta when we first started." I nodded. I had noticed, but Sally and Janey had caused a lot of excitement everywhere they had gone today. "Your friends, are you, uh, intimate?"
"Yes, with the mother." I decided not to mention the situation with Janey.
"Oh. And the beautiful little girl, does she have a sexual outlet?"
I looked puzzled.
"A boyfriend. A stud. A dildo. Anything?"
"Uh, no. I explained to you over the telephone what had happened to her. Why is this important? Dr. Rosen, you are beginning to frighten me."
She smiled and gave a little laugh. "No, no, no. Do not be frightened. I predict you are going to be too tired to be frightened. Your friends' blood tests were at the maximum for natural production of the natural sex- enhancer. It is almost as if they do not need the devices. I would suspect they are extremely sexual women, no?
"You will be a busy man, Mr. Sampson, both from servicing the and hiding the from every male in the city. If you do service both of them - do not blush, it is common in many countries for fathers to teach their daughters - you will need some help.
"I have, in my work, come across several researchers working on the same area, but in men. One such colleague, Dr. Wang, - yes, unfortunate in his line of research, but his whole name is even more so. Dr. Long Wang. Anyway, Dr. Wang's work and ours here have coincided. Combining his surgical techniques with the sex-enhancer can give a the ability to become erect at will, as often as he wishes, without interfering with his natural response to sexual stimuli. If something excited him before, it will still excite him. But now, every time he wishes. And the act may go to ejaculation each time, if not interrupted, of course.
"Like I said, Mr. Sampson, if you are helping out both of these beautiful and sensuous women..." she tapered off, then, finally, came to the point, "Dr. Wang is coming next week. I could arrange to have things taken care of. It is quick, in and out in an hour, and as painless as the women's procedure, or so they say. You would be, uh, functional almost by the end of the day and definitely by the next morning." She shrugged. It wasn't her area and she didn't know everything. But she did know other things.
Always suspicious, I asked, "And Dr. Wang? What does he want?"
"Dr. Wang has had difficulty getting his credentials recognized in this country. Many other colleagues have made promises to help him, taken much money and done nothing. He would like you to arrange for him as you did for us, and also for his daughter."
"Before or after the implant surgery?"
"Surgery first, credentials second. We are your proof. He will teach me the surgery and assist me until he is legal." She grinned at me. "I want no more talks with your Judge Hawthorne.
I gave it a second. "Set it up for a week from Thursday?"
"Good." She wrote down the appointment in her book, as did I in mine. "Oh, I was meaning to ask you. Does the good judge have named Miriam and Judith? Two persons by these names are scheduled next month. I wanted to make sure this was not a setup by the Christian Coalition or Moral Majority. They are such a nuisance, these hypocrites."
I was surprised the women had visits scheduled. It probably wasn't a trap, just a 'fact finding' mission. I reassured her that it was not a setup - or at least, wouldn't be by the time it happened. I told her I would have the Judge sign all the necessary papers for their surgery without the woman's consent or knowledge. I also told her I thought the good judge would appreciate a few perverse twists in the placement of the implants. I had pretty much figured out that he had always fantasized about spanking his - and possibly his daughter. A few well-placed implants would assure him of a willing target, the second time if not the first.
During the time I had been claimed by Judith as her escort, he had encouraged me several times to 'take control of her' and tan her bottom. By locating some of the tubes around the broad posteriors of the two women, the chemical would be released upon swatting, giving them a thrill if - no, make that when they were spanked. They could be spanked for a long time and often. And never know what hit them, other than his bare hand. Dr. Rosen asked if perhaps the judge would enjoy it if a device were placed around the anal sphincter. Entry by a solid object into that tight cavity would create enough pressure to release the sexual enhancer. Laughing, we made our way to the waiting room to meet the four women.
Dr. Rosen coolly shook my hand as we entered the waiting room, passing me the small remote controls tuned to each girl's devices. One was labeled "S," the other "J." With a stone face, she informed me that the particular modification she had suggested for the other two patients had been implemented in each of the two girls, as well as all of the others I had discussed with her. Both of them would enjoy butt-fucking to the fullest, as well as many other activities. She wryly commented that she sincerely hoped I was up to it. Pun intended.
I was in a slight state of shock as we left the waiting area.
Chapter 15
My only thought as we made our way to the last shop was, 'How am I going to last 10 days to Thursday of next week and Dr. Wang?' Thank God the reservoirs took a week or so to fill up.
The last shop was intended as a safety measure just in case either of the two prior shops had bombed. I guided the energetically bouncing cockteasers into the discreet, but very expensive, jewelry store. The fittings here were simpler, but just as personal.
They took the ring sizes of each finger and toe, and measured the waist, neck, and forehead sizes. The female clerk then simply lifted their shirts up and measured the nipples relaxed and erect, as well as the distance between them. Noticing Sally's pierced nipple, she cleaned it and checked if it was patent. It was. The clerk also measured the thickness of the flaps around their navels, and skillfully stimulated the clitoris of each and measured the length and breadth. lips were measured as well. Both women, as well as the clerk, were breathing raggedly by the end of the measurements. It seemed to me the clerk had enjoyed - and drawn out - the session. Janey was slightly shaken, more by her response to the woman, than was Sally. Janey had yet to learn to simply enjoy the pleasure received from sexual stimulation, whether from a or a woman.
After things calmed down a bit, we went into a private showroom. Colors were discussed, and skin tones were matched against color charts. For being so similar in appearance to Sally, I was surprised to learn that different colors and stones brought out Janey's highlights. Janey favored rubies and colors, while Sally was absolutely stunning in emeralds and greens. They also had different tastes in jewelry, though equally expensive. Each picked out a favorite bracelet. I selected a necklace with rubies and one with emeralds, and we left.
After what had happened so far today, dinner was surprisingly uneventful. Apparently, the expensive trinkets bought me some good behavior by my lovelies, as there were no arrests for indecent exposure in the exclusive restaurant. The owners had waived the dress code for us as I had rented a modest banquet room out of sight of the main customer area. I had warned the maitre de that my guests might be underdressed for his establishment and, after seeing them, he rolled his eyes. He was also very apologetic
"Mr. Sampson, forgive me. When you asked for, no, insisted upon female service personnel for this evening, I misunderstood your intentions. Oye! Now I understand. My waiters would break every dish in the house tripping over their tongues if they were to serve these two magnificent ladies. Please, come this way down the back hall. I appreciate your discretion in this."
As he walked away, leaving us in a sumptuous room, all three of us heard him mutter, "Lucky bastard. Some have all the luck." Our laughter met the arriving service personnel, all attractive women, all in very revealing attire. He had misunderstood. I wore a shit-eating grin all through the meal. Only got kicked twice under the table, too. One of the serving wenches had "out to here", but her top didn't quite reach that far...
Dinner was light fare. We still had the ball game to go to. I left an overgenerous tip as Sally glared at me in mock-rage. At least, I hoped it was a put-on.
The conversation in the car to the park was sparse, but not strained. Sally, I think, was still trying to figure out what had happened at the Rosen's clinic. Of the two of them, she was the most in tune with her body. She knew something was different, but wasn't sure exactly what it was. Janey didn't seem to notice anything.
I had arranged for us to have box seats at the game, right above the dugout on the first base line. Sally and Janey loved it. As a cheerleader, I think it was the first game Janey had been to in a long time that she didn't have to stand with her back to the action.
It was an exciting game, and the two of them got lost in the suspense and action of a good hard fought contest. They were jumping up and down excitedly, not with the intent to tease, as they had most of the day, but simply for joy. Their intentions did not lessen the effects of their bouncing on the rest of the fans, however, or the players.
By the end of the fifth inning, there were only a handful of spectators left in the stands as you looked from our seats on the first base line over across third base. It looked as if the stands were practically empty, but there was still a substantial roar. All of the fans had gradually wandered around behind and to the sides of our box for a better view of the show the short shirts and tight shorts were providing. The fans began to cheer more for the show than the game, with the loudest cheers coming at times of no apparent action on the field. The players were puzzled at what was going on, until they were in the field and could get a look at my two dates.
At the seventh inning stretch, I bought hot dogs, peanuts and drinks, beer for Sally and me, soda for Janey. The peanuts were salty, and the dogs with mustard and kraut, just the way I like them. Two beers apiece didn't quite slacken the thirst, and by the bottom of the ninth, I bought a third beer apiece, and another soda for Janey.
I drank down the top third of my beer and watched the opposing pitcher strike out the first batter. Two runs were all that separated the two teams, and when the second batter walked, the excitement in the stadium grew. They were at the top of their batting order. We were all on our feet, waiting, watching...
"Yuck! How can you drink this stuff?"
I turned to watch Janey with my beer to her nose, smelling the brew.
"Janey, don't!"
Too late. She took a deep breath, then chugged a big swig of the drink, wrinkling her nose like taking terrible tasting medicine. She caught my eye out of the corner of hers, and turned and stared defiantly over the rim of the cup. Ten dagger-like fingernails imbedded themselves in my arm. I think Sally was trying to get my attention. She would have to wait, as Janey had all of mine at the moment.
"Janey, I asked you to stop, not to drink that. You are still underage."
"So? Who's going to care?"
Quietly I said to her, "I care." Ten sharp pains in my arm. "Your cares, too, a lot!" I looked at her for a minute, weighing the options available to me in this public arena. I copped out. "Janey, we will discuss this later."
She caught the seriousness in my voice, and maybe just a glimmer of the murderous look in her mother's eye. But youth, as they say, is wasted on the young. She turned back to the game, and in the blink of an eye, was caught back up in it as if nothing had happened.
As it was, she may have been the deciding factor in the game. The visitors were two runs ahead and one out away from winning. There was a on third and the tying run was on first. The star of the home team, Mac Washington, hitless for the night, was at bat. Janey, always one to root for the home team, leaped out of her seat and stood on her chair, yelling and waving both hands over her head. The tremendous roar of approval for her unconscious titty show came right in the middle of the pitcher's delivery. Whether that had something to do with it, or whether the pitcher was just tired isn't clear, but the pitch hung up in the strike zone. Mac swung for all he was worth and the ball left the park. The home team had won.
We hung around after the game for a while, then made our way to the home team locker room. The fans that were still there, most of them actually, cheered the two blondes and we left.
Chapter 16
We wandered around underneath the stadium and made our way under the concrete mass through a maze of corridors until we got to the one special door I was looking for. I knocked on the Clubhouse door and the guard opened it. He greeted me with a big smile and a slap on the back. He was sort of deaf and spoke very loud.
"Lar, good to see you, guy! You don't come around much anymore. Coach said you'd be here tonight, though. Come on in, come in!" He waved me in. He totally ignored the two girls, something they weren't used to, especially today. It was if he didn't even see them. I think they were shocked. I could tell by their faces they were pissed at being ignored by a this close to them. Sally was trying to figure out how the guard knew me so well, even though her reasoning was going on under a slight beer-induced haze. Three beers affected her more than me.
As we entered the Clubhouse, the guard shouted, "Hey guys, look who's here!"
We entered the open room to shouts of "Larry," "Lar," "Sampson" and one heartfelt "You lucky bastard," which brought a lot of laughs. There must have been a shortage of towels that night, as most of the were naked and hanging limp but only for a short time. The sight of Sally and Janey took care of that.
Janey - Sally, too - stood and gawked. I don't know exactly which scenarios would be in a list of women's fantasies, but I was pretty sure this would probably be one of them for most women: twenty-five healthy guys on display, naked in the locker-room. Janey was the first to recover.
"Hi, guys. I'm Janey. Great game! Yeaaaaaa!"
Almost as one they shouted "Hi, Janey!" back at her as if this sort of visit occurred after every game. I knew it didn't. She had taken to jumping up and down as she congratulated them. Sally, not to be outdone by her daughter, imitated Janey's routine. The cheer following Sally's performance was louder. I didn't think it was possible.
"WHAT'S ALL THE RUCUS OUT HERE?" I would know that foghorn voice anywhere. It still haunted my dreams. "WHY, LARRY SAMPSON! HOW THE HELL ARE YOU, YOU OL' SON OF A GUN?"
A as big as his voice barreled out into the room, caught sight of me and came straight over. The got out of his way. The lucky ones anyway
"So, have you decided to come back and play for me? We still got your uniform hanging in the locker, same one. Just say the word, fella." As much as we both knew it would never happen, he still tried to get me back to play ball for him. It felt good to be wanted.
I just grinned at him and pulled him into a hug. He loved it, but put up a good fight.
"So, are you going to introduce me or do I have to get their names from the labels on their diapers? Shit, man! When did you start robbing cradles? Or did your Sis get a law passed that says two 12s are as good as a 24?"
The nearby were holding their sides. I was biting my lip. He was playing it loose, getting in several good shots, while I had to be on my best behavior. I introduced Sally and Janey to my former coach and he shook hands with each one. I was surprised he shook them so gently, without causing their shirts to rise. Knowing him, that took tremendous effort. It also showed me the respect he had for me.
"So, which one of you do I have to thank for that home run that won the game?"
Sally and I nodded at Janey. Janey, however, turned and pointed across the steamy room at Mac Washington and said, "Him!"
After the laughter died down, Coach said, "Well, little lady, you have just earned yourself a season ticket to all the home games." Cheers from the players. He looked over at me. "But you will have to pay double to get in." More jeers than cheers, but it was all in fun.
After all the preliminary blustering, he lowered his voice and pulled Sally and I into conversation off to one side. I stood where I could keep an eye on the room and Janey.
"Shit, Larry! When you said they were good looking, I thought you meant like Judith. These two are fuckin' beautiful!" Remembering Sally standing there, he actually reddened. "Sorry, ma'am, please excuse my French." I knew he was more worried about the effect the two of them would have on some of the and whether they could control themselves. He wasn't the only one who was worried. I knew most of the and trusted them. Some of them, however, were new. No risk, no gain, I kept telling myself. Maybe someday it would actually be true...
Sally's musical laughter set him at ease, and she relaxed as she realized this, too, was a planned event. Her eyes lit up as she figured out she was seeing a part of my history she did not have a clue existed. We had never talked about sports and stuff.
"Damn, I don't know if some of the guys, 'specially the single ones, are gonna make it with the all that, that, that..." he looked at Sally, lost for words.
"... cunt? Ass? Tits? Pussy?" she helped, laughing at his embarrassment. Her eyes were following Janey around the room as well. The teen was wandering around the room, laughing and talking to naked as if she did it every day. She seemed to be remembering every play each player had made. She was encouraged to re-enact - with vigor, no less - all the best plays. I noticed most of those seemed to involve some kind of action that brought her hands over her head and her up almost to her chin. I hoped she wouldn't want to do this after every game.
He roared with laughter. "Damn straight! Her - and you, missus - walkin' round here with all that tit and ass showin' may cause some of the to forget that they're gentlemen. And I even had them whack it off three times before the game."
"I'm sure they'll behave themselves." I was praying like the dickens that they would. Most of the 'dickens' were raised to heaven by Janey's antics, even as we watched. I watched as Janey walked up to Mac. He and I had played together in and then here in Triple A. I was sorry he had never made it to the majors. If he ever got there, they would see how good he was.
Mac and I still kept in contact regularly, Hell, we were best friends, but I had not warned him about this, as I had the coach. Mac eyed me across the room and I winked at him. From his glare, I knew I would hear about this for a long time. I wondered if he would tell his wife. She was the jealous type. Nice, but jealous.
We watched Janey chat with him for a while and then hand him a Sharpie marker.
"Where did she get that?" I whispered to Sally. I knew she didn't have any pockets.
"Don't know. I'll go find out."
Mac looked flustered for a moment, then took the pen, trying not to drop the towel held strategically over his groin. I couldn't tell, but it looked like he was very, very erect. I knew he was embarrassed as hell. His personal equipment gave credence to the myth that black males have big cocks. He was well endowed, and very shy about it. He had hardly dated the entire time I had played ball with him, and not for lack of available or willing women. Handsome and smart, he made a fine catch. Now, he just looked flustered, wondering where to put his hands.
We saw him looking for a piece of paper to write on, and Janey shook her head 'No' as she pointed to her shirt. His face was a tortured affair. He tried to write without touching her, but she would have none of that. She grabbed his hand and pressed the pen firmly into the cloth, and her tit. The pressure with which she pushed down on his hand made her sag. He looked at me for a second, gave me a wry 'Fuck You' look and placed his other hand under Janey's soft tit flesh to hold it up.
The towel he was holding in that hand, covering his groin, fell to the floor. I could hear Janey's gasp even from where I was across the noisy room. His ebony cock was proudly standing there and she was devouring it with her eyes. I thought I saw her begin to reach for it, but he deftly shifted it away from her. He always did have some smooth moves. I think he also tried to distract her by rubbing his thumb over her nipple, but that may have been an accident. Sure, that's it. It must have been...
Just as he finished signing his name over her right breast, Sally walked up and presented her chest for signing. She said something to him and the big grinned. His letters were larger this time, his name scrawled across both her boobs. He gently held the bottom of each soft orb in turn as he signed his autograph across their tops. From her shivering reactions, I figured he had stroked a couple more nipples in the signing process.
Sally took the pen from him and slipped it down the crease in her tight shorts, saying something to him as she did. I have never seen an erection fall so fast as his did then. Sally said something else, laughed and kissed him on the cheek, and I saw him give her a small smile of apology. As she gently guided Janey back towards me, holding her firmly by the arm, Mac grinned over and gave me a big 'OK' sign. I knew he meant Sally, and not just for her tits. He and I talked all the time. He knew what she meant to me. I just wish his cock hadn't been so glad to meet her, too. But a near naked lady in the locker room was too much of an invitation. I couldn't blame him really.
"We're going to miss him 'round here."
I looked at the Coach in surprise. I hadn't heard they were letting him go. Something wasn't right.
"That's where I was when you come in. New York was on the phone. They finally listened to me and are going to give him his shot at the 'Bigs'. He gets to replace that guy, whats-his-face third baseman that tore a muscle yesterday. Mac'll do good. He's ready."
I couldn't have agreed more.
We said our good-byes to a chorus of cheers and catcalls. All in all, the had behaved themselves admirably, under the circumstances. The parking lot was deserted as we walked to my car.
As I reflected, my had also behaved quite well, under the circumstances.
Chapter 17
"Hey, Janey!"
"Huh?"
"Here. Catch!" I tossed her my car keys.
"Really? You'll let me drive your Beemer? Really? Oh, shit! I can't! I don't have my driver's permit with me."
"Here. Catch again!" I called out. I tossed her a thin leather billfold. She opened it up and found her brand new learner's permit inside. "Never leave home without it!"
"Here, catch this one," came from Sally as she wound herself around me. We were deep into a serious kiss when I felt some serious pressure on my nuts. Her hand was grabbing me. I think she wanted my attention. She got it.
"Hey, dear? Uh, that's, uh, a little tight, isn't it?"
"Not nearly tight enough, Mister 'I'm in fucking charge today.' My has beer to drink less than an hour ago and now she's going to drive? What in the Hell are you thinking?"
"I am aware of that. But we, you and I, have had much more to drink than she had. But you're right. I'm sorry. I should have been better prepared."
"God damn fucking right, you should have. And you're also right, too, damn you. I can't drive, and you shouldn't. Janey will have to. But we're not finished discussing this, Mister. Not by a long ways."
Somehow, I had figured that out already. At least when we parted she didn't tear anything off my body.
Janey had been adjusting the mirrors and the driver's seat during our little passion play, so when we climbed in, she was all ready to go. Even the radio stations had been changed and she was busily re-programming the buttons for the ride home. I checked her preparations, turned down the volume about 70% and nodded. "Let's go home."
She carefully started the car, pulled out of the lot and headed for the highway. She only asked for directions once. I was impressed. She had been paying attention after all. She handled herself and the powerful car with a confidence that belied her inexperience. Being Sally's daughter, I should have expected as much.
Sally stuck her bare feet up between the seats and onto my lap. Her groans of pleasure and delight as I massaged her tired toes soon turned to soft snores. It had been a long day and one too many beers, I guess. Janey and I rode along in silence for a time.
I saw Janey check the mirror several times, looking to see if her was asleep.
"Larry?" she asked softly.
"Yes?"
"You know she loves you, don't you?"
I let it hang there, not knowing where she was going.
She continued. "She knew the first time she met you that you were the one, that you were special. So did I. When she came home that night, she was different, kind of. Better. It was like she didn't have this big inside her.
"I asked her what had happened to her and she laughed. I hadn't heard her that happy, well, ever, I don't think. And she was sooo excited. She told me she had met some guy at that stupid party and that he had blown the easiest and best fuck of his life by asking her to marry him.
"Don't get mad, Larry. She meant it nicer than it sounds. She was really, really happy you wanted her for permanent. That's why she teases you so much by playing hard to get."
It was quiet, then "Thank you for making her happy."
"She makes me happy, too, Janey. Sometimes I think I would almost die without her in my life."
"I know. That's why I don't want to mess it up."
I didn't say anything. I wanted to let her go at her own pace. "Mom told me I could have sex with you if I wanted. That you would teach me things and make me feel good about it after, well, you know, what happened and all..."
She looked over at me quickly, then back to the road ahead of us. Shyly I heard, "Do you want to teach me?"
"If that's what you want." I was on dangerous ground here.
She was quiet for a long time. I didn't interrupt her. "I, uh, oh Gosh this is embarrassing! Um, yeah, Larry."
"Yeah what?" I knew, or thought I did, what she was referring to.
"Yeah, I want you to, uh, teach me and stuff."
"...and 'stuff?' What 'stuff?'"
"God! said you could be difficult! Geeze! OK. I want to be your little sex toy. Happy?"
"No."
"No? Huh?"
"No, I am not happy. And 'No', you will not be my little sex toy."
"But, but..."
"Janey, your asked me to help you feel better about sex. She told me to do whatever it took to do that. I agreed, but only if you were willing. Do you understand?"
"Yeah. No, not really."
"Janey, are you willing to let me help you?"
"Duh! That's what I've been saying!"
"Do you also understand that I am scared shitless that if I mess up by either helping you too much or not enough that I could lose your Mom?"
"You'd have to really screw up badly, Larry. She really, really loves you."
"More than she loves you, her daughter?"
Janey was silent for a minute. "Oh. Yeah. I see."
We drove a bit longer in silence. I think she was beginning to appreciate the delicate position I was in. I forgot she was a teenager. She was thinking about only one thing. Sex.
"So, Larry? Are you going to fuck me?"
I just about choked on my complacency. "I don't know. We'll have to see when we get there."
"You don't want to?"
Damn these women and their questions. Don't they know any easy ones? Like, what's Plank's Constant, or why are coins round, or do dogs think? Did I want to fuck her? Give me a break!
"Yes, Janey I want to. I want to very much. But..."
"There's always a 'but,' isn't there?"
"... but I don't know it I will, if we will. Right now, I'd have to say we probably will. But I don't know."
"Oh, goody!" She sounded truly happy, like a kid with a lollipop. Whoa! Bad image. I flashed back on the mental image of her kneeling between my knees. I was jerked back to reality by her next question.
"So if it's OK if I do it with you, can I do it with other people?"
"Are you asking me if it's OK if you fuck around? Or did you have someone particular in mind?"
"Well, kind of, that black guy on the baseball team. Mac? Would it be OK with him? You know him, right? What about with him?"
I just about burst out laughing. His ego would never let go of this one. "Well, yeah, I know him pretty well. And he is a great guy. I couldn't think of anyone I would rather have you fuck around with, or marry, for that matter. You have a good eye. You probably picked the best one in the room. But, I think his new might have something to say about it, if you know what I mean."
"Oh. I didn't know he was married."
"Almost two years, now. I was supposed to be best at his wedding, but I was, uh, out of the country. She wouldn't reschedule, but that's OK. Coach stood in for me."
It was quiet for a long time. Somehow I didn't think she was done.
"Larry, what was today about?"
"What do you mean?"
"The clothes and stuff. Why"
"You didn't like the clothes I picked out?"
"Oh, yeah, they're cool. But, well, I would never wear things like this in public, especially where someone I knew would see me. Mom, neither."
"How did the clothes make you feel?"
"Kind of sexy. No, really sexy, but cheap. Slutty, really."
"And how you did the two of you behave today?"
"Pretty slutty, I guess. I'm sorry if we embarrassed you. But isn't that what you wanted? Didn't you want us to act that way?"
I laughed. "Well, I hadn't imagined you would get into it as much as you did, but, in a way, that makes it better. Yes, I did want you to act kind of slutty today. Never again, mind you, or at least not in public, but it was OK today."
Now she laughed. "It was kind of fun, but it wasn't me, you know, and for sure, never again in public. But, didn't you like it?"
"I loved it, a lot! So did everyone else who was fortunate enough to see you, too. That was the whole point."
She looked puzzled in the darkened interior of the car. I let her think about it for a while.
"I don't get it. Nothing happened."
"Exactly!" She still looked puzzled. "Janey, if you can look and act like you did today and have not one single man attack you, or even threaten you or hassle you, what does that tell you about what should happen when you act the way you normally do?"
A pained look crossed her face as she was suddenly reminded of the attack. "But, Steven..."
"Yes. Steven. Steven did it. You did nothing to make him do what he did. You are not responsible for what happened to you. That's what today was all about."
Tears trickled down her cheeks and I eased myself into position to grab the wheel. I thought she was going to collapse, or worse, relapse into her depression. I envisioned her turning head-on into an oncoming truck to end it all.
"You did all of this for me? Planned the whole day, arranged with all those people?"
"Well, I didn't have anything to do with the fans at the game, but, yes. I did it so you could see how real men, most of them just average guys, react to a beautiful woman."
"They did react, didn't they?" She grinned over at me. "Did you see Mac's thing? Wow! It was almost as big as yours!"
"The were excited, yes, aroused by your flaunting. And they controlled themselves. There was no doubt you aroused them, was there? And you teased them, too, daring them to do something, didn't you?"
"Uh-huh."
"And?"
"OK, OK! I get it already."
I settled back in the seat.
"Thanks, Larry. I do feel better. I won't forget this."
Over the first hurdle, on to the next...
Chapter 18
We got home late that night and I carried my sleeping beauty from the back seat into the house. I laid her down on our bed and then turned my attentions to deal with the one big problem left. As I left the room, I remembered my pistol was still stuck in my waistband. I removed it and placed it under my blazer, out of sight. I would take it out to the car after I finished with Janey.
I went to my office at the end of the hall and got one of the unpacked boxes I had brought from my apartment when I moved in with Sally. After a quick stop in the living room, I hauled the box down to Janey's room. I knocked on the doorframe, the door being open, as usual.
"Yeah?"
"We still have one more issue to discuss, lady."
Her woeful look with those big puppy eyes told me she had been hoping I would have forgotten it. She knew what I was going to talk about and she knew she wasn't going to like it. "Oh. Yeah. Uh, sorry about that?"
Damn, she was good. That last little wistful apology almost did in my resolve. But there were serious issues at stake here, not the least of which was the consumption of alcohol by a minor. I took a deep breath and plowed onward.
"I'm afraid 'Sorry' won't do, this time. You need to understand that when we are outside of this house, you cannot break the law, period. As long as you are a minor, you must behave within the limits set for you, both by society and by your and, now, me. Sometimes you will be allowed to push some of those limits like you did today. You and Sally had all the freedom that you wanted to behave as cockteasers. I didn't object to anything you did, however outrageous. But the beer was off limits and I made that clear. What you did was over the line. You understand that, right?"
She nodded, silent.
"Now, about your punishment... I thought about spanking you for it, but we would both probably enjoy that way too much for that to be considered a real punishment..."
"Llaaarrry!"
"...then I thought about grounding you, but you're moping around here all the time anyway. So, what I want you to do is to pick out ten books from this box." I dropped it on her desk. "Then, along with this one other book I picked out, I want you to read them and write a three-page book report on each one of them by next Monday night at the latest. Agreed?"
She nodded, relieved that there would be no pain involved.
"Oh. Read this one last. This is the one I picked out especially for you to read. It's one of your Mom's favorites." I handed her a small, well-read paperback.
"OK, I guess." She was getting off light, and we both knew it. But it was the thought that counted, I guessed. She had crossed the line and she acknowledged I had the right to remind her of it. Actually, I felt pretty darn good about how it had gone.
Janey stopped me on my way out the door. "Larry, as long as you're going to act like one, can I call you `Dad' sometimes?"
I grinned and nodded at her. I didn't trust my voice to speak. I had tears in my eyes as I walked back to Sally's bedroom. I had a knot in my throat and wasn't paying much attention as I walked back down the hall to our room. I anticipated a quick trip to the car and then to bed. If I was lucky, Sally would wake up, forgive me, and I would get lucky. Otherwise, we'd just get up late tomorrow morning.
I reached under my blazer for my gun. Just as the realization was sinking in that it wasn't there, I heard the distinctive sounds of a round being chambered in the large caliber automatic.
"Looking for something, big fella?" It was said jokingly, but I wasn't' laughing.
I didn't move. Not a muscle. I didn't even breathe.
"This isn't funny, is it."
"No." I waited a second. "Sally, is the gun pointed at me?"
"Yes."
"Sal, I want you to listen very carefully. Move very slowly and point the gun out the window."
"OK."
"Now put it down very gently on the bed." I heard her moving as she turned to put it down.
BOOOM!
The sound of the gunshot filled the house. I waited for what seemed like an eternity for that certain sickening feeling of pain, the thud you hear when the bullet strikes your flesh, then the crunch of the bone, the slamming impact as the speeding lead projectile penetrates the tissue, deforms and dissipates all its energy on the internal organs.
That moment of waiting seemed to last forever. But nothing happened. The bullet had missed me. Spinning, I saw Sally with a ghastly look on her face, horrified, but no blood. The gun had discharged as she placed it on the bed. The kick had thrown it from her hand, fortunately without ripping off a finger. There was a large in the center of mattress and the smell of cordite filled the room.
I picked up the gun and flicked the safety back on.
"I didn't know the safety was off." The little voice of a scared little whimpered.
Of all of the stupid things to say, that was probably the stupidest, but the truest, as well. I bit my tongue so I wouldn't speak what I was thinking. I checked my crotch and the floor for a wet spot, instead. I was still shaking.
"Is it safe to come out now?" Janey's quivering voice came down the hall.
"NO! Oh hell! Yes, Honey, everything's OK, but go to bed. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Mom. Goodnight...Larry."
I put the gun in the nightstand and crawled into bed.
"Are you mad at me?"
I thought about it. "No. Not really. Scared shitless, but I'm not mad at you. Sorry about the gun. I shouldn't have brought it into the house at all. My fault."
"No. I know better than to play with unfamiliar guns. I haven't ever seen one like yours. My fault." I didn't disagree.
Sally snuggled up against me and reached around me to fondle my limpness. "You were scared, weren't you?" I didn't respond as usual to her magical touch. Like I said before, self-preservation and all...
"Yes."
She fondled me gently for a while longer, eventually having the predicable effect. Then reaching lower and grabbing my balls, she applied some pressure, more than playful pressure. I sensed she wanted my attention.
"We have some unfinished business."
"Uh-huh," I forced out between clenched teeth.
"You were in charge today, and Janey drank beer. Then you let her drive. I was willing to trust you, up to a point. So you got lucky and everything turned out OK. Well, better than OK, pretty good, actually. But I think you need a reminder about just how much responsibility it is to be in charge, especially in charge of a teenaged girl, especially when that is my daughter!"
I waited for her verdict. She was going to be the judge, jury and executioner, what with her hand firmly grasping my nuts. "There will be no action for this puppy for - how long does Janey have to read those books? Six days? Agreed?
I shook my head and got a firmer squeeze of my nuts in return.
"Wait!" I gasped. "Before you do some real damage, I am not refusing to accept the consequences for what happened today. I was responsible, and allowed something to slip through the cracks. What I disagree with is that I don't like using sex, or no sex, actually, as a punishment. I don't think its right." I paused waiting for her response. Nothing. She was not in a negotiating mood.
"But if that's what you want," she nodded her head against my back, "then you'll be on the same restrictions for the same length of time for playing with my gun. My other gun."
"Oh." Silence. "Well, fair's fair, I guess."
"It's going to be a long six days."
"What's the matter, don't you think you can do it?"
"Oh, I can do it, no sweat. I was just worried about you, babe." She hated to be called that.
For that I got a punch in the ribs. "Want to make a bet on it?"
"No thanks. I cherish everything I have too much. I'm afraid of what I might lose."
"Silly man, don't you know you'll never get rid of me?"
"No, I didn't. But it's nice to know how you feel about me. Goodnight sweetie."
"Goodnight. 'Dad.'"
"Geeze, what did you do, listen at the door?"
"Uh-huh. I'm a Mom, remember? It's in my job description. 'Night!"
Women!
Chapter 19
The next morning Janey bounced into the kitchen, full of energy and noise. She was greeted by the sullen expressions of two horny adults who knew they weren't going to be getting satisfaction for another 5 long nights. It didn't deter her or dampen her obvious energy in the slightest. She was wearing, if you could call it that, one of the wispiest, sheerest short nightgowns I had ever seen her wear, and nothing else. A blind could have seen her she was so exposed.
It didn't do anything to relieve my hard-on. It did even less when she came over and sat on my lap, directly on my stiff cock. She wiggled around until the tip slipped out of my pajama bottoms and up between her firm thighs.
"Good Morning, Dad. Sleep well?"
I eyed her suspiciously. Just as I thought, she was grinning impishly. I grunted and focused on not raping her right there on the granola and yogurt.
"I'm sorry if I got you in trouble. Really, I am. Is there anything I can do to make it better?" She wiggled her firm ass suggestively on my cock. It slipped a little further between her thighs. Her seductive and sexy actions belied the innocent expression on her face. She knew exactly what she was doing and the effect she was having on me.
"It's all right, Honey. I'll survive. But," I lifted her up and off my lap, "this definitely isn't going to help me survive."
"I know. I just couldn't help it. I borrowed one of Mom's sexy things to tease you." She posed obscenely for me. "Don't you think would look hot in this, Dad? Huh? How about like this?" She bent over facing away from me. "Or maybe like this?" She cleared the dishes from in front of me and hopped up on the table. She spread her legs wide, dipped a finger in the butter and slicked up her lips. "Oooh, I bet it would go in so smoooooth."
In desperation I stood up and went to the refrigerator. There, I got a pitcher of ice water and calmly poured half of it over her head. She sat on the table stunned, sputtering. The thin material of her gown clung like a second skin to her near naked body, giving me serious second thoughts about the wisdom of my actions. I don't recall ever seeing anything so God Damned sexy as she looked right then. The second half of the pitcher I poured down the front of my pajama bottoms. It was the best relief I could imagine, and for the first time I could remember since I had seen them in their short T- shirts and tight shorts the morning before, I was not achingly erect.
"Go get dressed, Janey, you'll catch cold running around all wet like that."
She glared at me then burst out laughing. "I was just trying to make it even. Mom's taking it worse than you are!"
I looked over at Sally, surprised. Then I noticed the red eyes and the puffy lids, signs of a sleepless night. She gave me a wan smile.
She nodded at the pitcher of ice water. "Nice move. I wondered how you'd get out of it. She was determined to break you. For my sake, even if it meant having sex with you. Though I don't think the little scamp would have particularly minded doing it, at that. I'll have to remember that trick with the water. Messy, though." She nodded her head towards the corner. "Mop's in there."
I looked over to Janey. "No fair taking sides, kid. This is between your and me, OK?"
"OK. Sorry." She dripped out of the kitchen.
I turned back to the corner, headed for the mop and bucket. "Sally, did she mean, 'Sorry,' as in Mom, I'm sorry it didn't work, or as in Larry, I'm sorry I teased you?"
"Hell if I know. But if you hadn't dumped water on her, I was about ready to jump her bones."
"Sally!"
"Hey, if it feels good..."
"No cheating. Agreed?"
Her agreement was a long time coming. But she gave her word very reluctantly.
The week passed. And passed. And passed again. It seemed to have gone by several times over. And then it was the next day. Friday lasted a week. Saturday lasted two weeks. Saturday night we couldn't even be in the same room, none of the three of us. Fortunately, it was a big house. I slept on the couch, until Sally came out and said it was worse being miserable alone than being miserable together. We agreed not to hold any grumpiness against each other, given the circumstances. However, I knew my limits. I wouldn't go in to the bedroom. She slept with me on the couch. That was worse.
Sunday I had several calls to make to arrange for the visit of Amud and his wife. We spent a leisurely time on the telephone, and by the time we were finished, the evening had been arranged. I hoped Sally would be pleased. I also made several calls to arrange the next "Family Day." I wasn't sure Sally would like the next special day's events. But it had to be done and it wouldn't kill her.
Monday I got up early, took an icy cold shower, and went to my office down the hall. There I closed the door and got to work. At ten o'clock the door to the office slammed open. Sally stood there gesticulating, clearly exasperated. It was almost comical. Her mouth was moving, but she said nothing. Not a word. At eleven, it was the same. At twelve thirty she burst in.
"What in the Hell did you give that to read. I am going crazy."
A distinct giggle came from Janey's room.
"What's she reading, one of your filthy books?"
I thought back to the books in the box. Ooops. "Actually, it's one of yours. I gave her your copy of 'The of O' that I found in the library stuck behind the encyclopedias."
"Oh, great! Just fucking great! Well, lady," she yelled down the hallway, "it doesn't take that long to read the damn book!"
"I'm memorizing the good parts. There are a lot of them, ya' know," came laughing reply from the closed room.
"Well, keep both hands on the book, damn it. You're driving me crazy!"
A musical tinkling came back at her. "Sooorrrry."
The office door slammed shut. I wondered how the house stayed intact with the amount of slamming and banging I heard for the rest of the afternoon. Dinner was two slices of bread and a piece of cheese. And ice water. I considered soaking my dick in it.
That night we both went to bed and slept as far apart as possible. The seconds ticked by an hour apart.
BRRAALLLATTTT!
I had apparently dozed off. My alarm went off at 11:59. One minute to Tuesday. I had set it to the Atomic Clock in Boulder, CO. I was taking no chances on cheating.
RRRRRIIIIINNNGGG!
Her alarm went off seconds later.
We lay there, letting the last 30 seconds of Hell end.
"NOW, Damn it. Fuck me, Larry. Please?"
I rolled over on top of her nude body. My iron hard prick rested between her thighs riding up onto her stomach. This was not going to be a finesse fuck. Neither of us had the need - or the patience - for that. This was going to be a race to the finish, two, three strokes tops. I cocked my hips, moving the throbbing head of my cock to nudge against her swollen cunt. I was all set to go, but first, I wanted to extract a simple promise...
"Sal, give me your word we'll never do this again," referring to the enforced celibacy. I pressed forward so that the tip her lips open just slightly.
"Lar, give me your fucking cock, or we'll never do this again." She emphasized her words with thrusts of her hips, trying to force more of my cock into her.
Leaning heavily on my elbows, I placed my hands on her chest and pressed her down onto the mattress. As she couldn't slide any lower without ripping her off her chest, she was foiled in her attempts to impale herself on me. But I did move to allow the whole of my cock head to slip inside her. The hot, tight lips of her closed around the corona. I swear it was trying to suck me in. I tried again.
"Sal, I'm serious. This has been the hardest week of my life. Please promise me. Never again will we withhold sex as a punishment."
"I don't give a shit how hard you have been. It hasn't been easy for me, either. And giving Janey that book was a low blow, dirty. I only care that you're hard now. Now shut up and fuck me. Or pull out and let me do myself."
I didn't pull out. I didn't go in. I stayed very still and kept her pinned to the bed. What had begun as a frenzied fuck, a race to the finish, had become a contest of wills. There suddenly seemed to be a whole lot more at stake here than I had imagined. Why is that always the case when it comes to women and sex?
I felt her first contractions begin as a light flutter and then her clamped down on the head of my cock. If cunts had teeth, you could have called me Ichabod. I knew I had to do something but the only thing I could do was to focus on not coming myself. I centered myself, remembering something a martial arts sensei had told me years ago when I took karate in high school. I emptied my mind and imagined a fist, tight around the neck of my cock. I willed myself not to cum, squeezing that fist tighter and tighter, blocking the egress of the ejaculate.
I heard a gasp from Sally. It brought me back from wherever I had been in my mind. I was afraid I had her. I opened my eyes to find her looking up at me, a startled look in her eyes. Her face was wet, as if she had been crying, or more likely, I had been. As I became more aware, I felt that my whole body was drenched in sweat. Her face was covered in my sweat that had dripped down off my face above hers.
I looked down at my hands that had been holding onto her soft breasts, fearful of the damage I had done to them. They were a good inch off her chest. She was not pinned to the mattress, yet she had not moved down my prick.
"OK, Uncle. You win. I promise we will never again withhold sex from each other in anger or punishment. Now," she looked up at me with concern, "if you're OK, can we do it now?"
"Yes, Love." I shoved into her as gently as I could, but it still felt like a yard engine shuttling freight cars in a rail yard. She came in two strokes. I heard a cry from underneath me, and an echo in the doorway. Turning my head, I saw Janey standing in the door, trembling, sharing the force of her mother's orgasm. As it subsided, I called her over to the bed. She needed to be held.
They came three more times before I let go of the fist around my cock. It wasn't as bad as it sounds, really. The next two orgasms they experienced were one on top of the other. It was the last one that took a while. The immediate edge was off and she made me work for this one. When I came, I flooded her.
"Oh, God, Sally. I'm cumming. I'm cummmmmming."
"Yes. Yessss, oh yess. OH GOD! Are you in me? What's going on? Oh. Oh. I'm cumming too, you bastard. OOOooo."
I hadn't peed in a bed since I was three. Even at camp. I didn't this time either. It was all cum. It had sprayed into her for a good 10 to 15 seconds. Not like a series of pulses. More like a fire hose. Second mattress in a week we would have to replace. The furniture were going to love me. Maybe I could get a quantity discount.
Later, resting, we three snuggled. It was different, but great, having two heads on my chest. They were both very still. Finally, Janey piped up,
"What the heck was that, a car wreck? Remind me not to take marriage counseling from you two."
I looked over at Sally. "What does she mean, a car wreck?"
Sally tilted her head up to look at me. "You are much more of a than I gave you credit for, Larry Sampson," she started quietly. "You know I have always prided myself on my strength, my will. But I am an amateur compared to you." I must have looked confused.
"You remember the ice water you dumped on her last week? And then you dumped it on yourself? Janey and I were both about to lose it that first morning. There was so much sexual tension in the air, and it was acting like an amplifier. Or maybe it was because you were there, too, adding your tension, your male tension to the mix that made it worse. Anyway, we were this close to jumping you. Seriously. Fuck the bet, fuck the punishment, and fuck the agreement. After only one day, we were going crazy. Then, when the water hit you, we both felt something inside of us, too, and we knew there was a link to you. One strong enough we could hang onto, to make us stronger. To help us get through this last week."
Janey piped up and continued, "Remember those nights after the attack, when you sat with me? I knew you were there. At first it felt strange, having someone else other than on the link, but I didn't realize until now that that's how I knew you were there. It wasn't that strong at first, but I could feel the good in you. You didn't try to come inside my head and get at me like the doctors were doing. You just sat there, night after night, showing me the way out, waiting for me when I was ready. Then that last night, you kind of fell asleep and the link got really strong. When I reached out and touched your hand, I could, well, talk to you, sort of. It's hard to explain. But even then, in your imagination or your dreams you didn't think of me in a scary way. All you could think of was how many great and wonderful things I would do. And you really liked that blue suit," she finished, teasing me gently.
Sally picked up the explanation. "But it's not just that. Janey and I have found that our link is stronger when you are around, like you're an amplifier, or something. Not all the time, but when you are feeling a simple emotion, like anger or love, or when you're really focused, the effect you have can be really strong.
"Like now, I was just beginning to orgasm - Janey, too - when it was out of me, I mean us. It just went away. I don't know how I know, but you drained that energy from us. I can't fight that kind of strength, the kind you have in you. If you were any other man, I would be afraid for my life. As it is, I'm not sure."
"I see, a car wreck." I thought a minute. "Sally, why did you fight me on giving your word? We both know it isn't good for us to do that. Why resist?"
"I've never not been in control. I've always had to be the person in control sexually. Except when, well, you know... Having to rely on you for the strength to do something I have been capable of doing all my life hurt. I got mad, angry at you, even though I was the one who was weak. I just wanted, needed to have it on my terms."
"Sally, you know I would never dream of hurting you. I didn't even know what was going on, what I was doing. I was just trying to be strong for you, to prove to you that I was worthy of your love and trust. I didn't mean to frighten you or ridicule you. Please, forgive me. If I suck anything else out of you, please, tell me to stop. Unless," and I broke into my Marx Brother's voice, "of course, I'm busy between your legs...."
"Eeewww, gross" and "Oh, Larry, not in front of Janey" comments were accompanied by twin elbow in my sides.
As we drifted off I reminded the that the next day was going to be another Day. I got mixed reviews, but nothing that really indicated trouble. The two blondes snuggled into me, two hands slipped down and cradled my cock. Not to elicit a response, although there was a predictable one, but more in a cuddly way. I decided not to object, and closed my eyes.
It was the first good night's sleep we had had in a week.
Chapter 20
The next morning I rousted the two sleeping beauties out of bed at 6:30; late for me, early for them. We had a lot of work to do today, and that called for an early start.
Janey was in good spirits, but Sally resented the time away from my cock. She felt I owed it to her. I felt differently. You don't make up for things lost due to discipline. Else, why bother? If you're going to get it later, why bother keeping it from you now. That was one reason I didn't like to use sex as a tool of discipline, at least the withholding of it as a punishment. Actually, I think she just woke up in a piss-poor mood. She had a bad case of the grumpies, but tough shit.
After a light breakfast, granola and yogurt, juice and coffee, I bundled the two dwarfs, Happy and Grumpy and both Sleepy, into the Jeep and headed to the 'back 40'.
Sally's property extended a couple of miles back into the rolling hills. There was one spot in particular I had in mind, a miniature box canyon not too far back. I loaded shovels and burlap sacks into the back of the Jeep, along with a basket lunch I had prepared the night before and some other supplies. Sally grumbled when she saw the lunch basket, as that told her this was not going to be a short drive in the country. In other words, no fucking for at least five hours. She was not a happy camper.
Janey had been so excited to go into her room to see what attire I had picked out for them. Her disappointed face was priceless as she and Sally emerged in sturdy Levi jeans, suitably tight, of course, heavy work shirts, leather gloves, boots, a baseball cap and worst of all, underwear. Not the frilly kind, but sturdy cotton and heavy duty sports bras. No flashing today. I just smiled, and told Janey I thought she looked nice in those clothes. I was telling her the truth, and she knew it. It helped.
We bounced overland in the Jeep to the canyon I had in mind. I unloaded the shovels and sacks and divided them into three piles. I demonstrated how to fill the sacks with sand from the nearby dry creek bed and tie them off. It isn't difficult, but after the first two or three, it becomes monotonous. Then it's just plain backbreaking work. There were a couple of hundred bags to fill.
Janey and I finished our sacks at about the same time. I was more than a little surprised that she kept up with me. I was carrying the filled sacks over to another spot close by and was stacking them in a wall about waist high or a bit higher. It got hotter as the sun rose, and I took my off, as did Janey. She smiled at me as I slowly appreciated her sweat-soaked sports bra that fit snuggly around her firm chest. She was openly appreciating my bare chest, as well. I keep in shape, but it was still nice to be admired by someone that and firm.
We were leaning on our shovels, resting, waiting for Grumpy to get a move on, when the rebellion started. It had been apparent that Sally wasn't keeping up and now she wasn't working at all. Her gloves were off, and she was staring at us defiantly. Staring at me, anyway.
"Are you going to finish those, Sally? We're about done here."
"Are you going to make me? Why the fuck are we doing this, anyway? If you're done, you can do these. I'm tired. I want to go home."
"Sally, just because I'm in charge today doesn't mean you can act like a little kid. That was last week. This week we're doing something different, OK?"
"Screw you, Mister 'I'm-in-charge.' I wanted to stay in bed and make love today, but, nooooo, you had to be in charge. Well, I don't like it, and you can't make me. I'm horny, I'm angry, I'm tired. Three strikes and I'm out of here."
She stood there, daring me to do something. So I did.
I walked over to her smiling, and took her into my arms, hugging her. She gave a little sob and grabbed me around my waist. I turned her by the shoulder and walked her a ways away from where we were standing over to the stacks of filled sandbags. We stood there, facing into the canyon, listening to the quiet. I didn't know what to say. I was pissed, but I waited until my anger was under control.
I tugged her around in front of me, so that we were both facing the same way, her back nestled into my front. Spooning, standing up. I slowly began a major campaign on her breasts, building gradually, squeezing and pinching, to good effect. When my hands undid her Levi's there was no resistance left in her. She didn't even look around for Janey.
As soon as her white cotton cleared her hips I bent her forward over the sandbags. Her boots left the ground by a couple of inches and I stripped the pants down over the boots, but not off. That would take too much time. After grabbing and simply ripping her panties off, I moved her feet as far apart as I could and then gave them purchase on the lower tier of bags.
I lowered my zipper and released my swollen cock from confinement. I dipped it in the slit of her cunt, teasing her. Seriously, I had no intention of going that route after her insolent behavior. Her tight little asshole was just looking at me, begging for some attention. Besides, the little devices the Rosen's had implanted around it should have been loaded with the sexual enhancer by now.
Without warning, I aimed and pressed home the head of my cock.
"NOOONOOOONOOOO. Larry, please, not there. OH GOD, It's too big, I'm not ready. OHH Larry OOOOOEEEEEIIIIiiSSHHIITT. What's happening to me? OHHHHh yyyeesss!"
I figured the little suckers that had been implanted at the clinic had just kicked in. Thank you, Drs. Rosen. Sally clamped her anal sphincter down hard on my cock and nearly snapped it off. It took lot of effort, on both our parts, but I finally buried the full length of my shaft in her rear canal. She screamed like a banshee each time she felt my heart beat. She could feel the pulse in her tightly stretched anal ring, and just that small amount of added pressure pumped a little more of the sexual enhancer into her system. She just kept going higher and higher and higher. There was no limit to the altitude on this rocket, and the first stage still had a lot of fuel to burn.
It was one of the noisiest fucks we had ever had. Part way through, Janey came up behind me and reached around me to hold my chest, her chest against by bare back. Every time her would climax, she would dig her fingernails into my pectoral muscles. Since Sally came nearly every time the pressure on the anal sphincter changed, I was a mass of scratches by the time we were finished. Janey's hand wandered down to where I joined her mother. I don't know if she was aware I had taken Sally anally or not, but as she felt the juncture and realized the port of entry was farther south than she was expecting, I heard her suck in her breath.
I slowly moved my body forward, driving myself back into the dark recesses of that clasping hole. Janey's hand was trapped between our sweating bodies. I stayed buried until I felt her hand leave my body and venture to Sally's. Her fingers moved lightly over the vacant cunt and finally found her mother's center. Janey caressed the excitable button to its fullest height and then flicked it incessantly with her agile fingers while I plowed the back forty. Together we gave Sally the orgasmic experience of her life to that moment.
I felt a small hand cup my balls from behind and gently massage them. A slight push, and a thumb penetrated my own asshole. I had done this before and knew what was coming. I started spewing my seed deep into Sally as the thumb fucked my ass and pressed on my prostate.
When my cock lost its stiffness, I pulled out of Sally with a slight sound. I cleaned her up with her torn panties, and handed them to Janey to wipe her hand. Then I wiped myself off and zipped up. While we waited for Sally to come back to us, Janey took a towel and went to a nearby stream for some water.
When Sally did move, she pulled her pants up sans panties, tucked her in and turned around. She kept her head bowed and kind of leaned into my scratched chest. When she spoke, there was a tinge of awe in her voice.
"Was that you? Did you make me like that? What's happening to me? It's never been like that before!"
I held her tight. As much as I wanted to take the credit, I said, "I think you can thank the Rosen Clinic for that."
"Janey too?"
"Uh-huh."
"God, when she discovers how good it is up the ass, we'll never have grandchildren."
She then turned to go, but stopped. "Larry? About what happened just now? The sex was great, and I deserved to get it up the ass the way I was behaving and all, but, well, it still me in here." She pointed to her chest. "I don't like to feel like that."
I knew what she meant. Something had come between us, but I didn't know what it was, or what to do about it, but it was there and it was serious. Keeping her head bowed, she turned and went back to work on her sacks, completing them in short order.
I stacked up the sacks to form a protective barrier for anyone standing behind it. I got a large wooden box from the Jeep and set it on top of the barrier. From the box I took two smaller, polished wooden boxes and placed one in front of each of them.
Curiosity finally got to them and they opened the beautiful mahogany boxes to reveal compact, but lethal 9mm pistols. We went through a very thorough course on gun handling, gun safety, loading, aiming, carrying, and so on. There wasn't a live round to be found in any of the supplies in front of them, however. I was taking no chances.
They were good students. When I was convinced they were ready, which was long after they thought they were, I got another box from the Jeep and produced safety goggles and ear protectors. Then we loaded the guns one at a time with real bullets. One would shoot, the other would watch. Then they would switch. There was only one gun loaded at a time, and it was always pointed down range.
A 9mm is normally a big gun for a woman, but I thought they could handle it. Both had excellent hand and arm strength. The particular I selected is downsized in the grip, and had been designed to be used as a backup weapon for cops. It was light and sturdy. If they ever needed to use it, the 8 rounds it carried were going to be enough.
For the finale of the morning, I produced two man- shaped targets and said the winner got their choice of seats for the event of the afternoon. Janey turned out to be the better marksman. At first, she objected to shooting at silhouettes of human figures. Sally held up her hand to stop her from shooting, walked down to the target, and in big lipstick letters, wrote 'Steven' across the figure.
I was shocked at what she had done. Janey just got quiet, as she realized, suddenly, just how serious this was. Her next 8 shots tore the crotch out of the target. Everything after that landed in the chest. I made a mental note not to get her angry with me. When she was mad, she was cold-blooded and an excellent shot. I wondered if I should have armed them at all.
On the next target, Sally was hitting very close to her daughter's score, and with a couple of good shots on the two remaining rounds, could win. Janey held up her hand to stop the shooting, went down to the target and scrawled 'Larry' on the silhouette and drew an oversized phallus at the crotch. She proudly strutted back, thinking she had shaken her and that she would retain the highest score.
Sally stared at the target for the longest time, and then slowly laid her gun on the sacks, conceding defeat, an unfamiliar sad and look in her eye.
It was an uneasy moment for all of us. Sometimes it just doesn't pay to win.
Chapter 21
"AND THE WINNER IS... JANEY!" I announced, holding up her arm in the air like a prizefighter. "And as your prize, my dear, which seat would you like, front or middle."
"Front!" she beamed.
I looked over at Sally, who was watching the victory celebration with a sadly amused look. I caught her eye as she glanced at me, and in the instant before she lowered them back down, I thought I saw fear, or maybe hurt, in them. It was the only time I saw her look up in my presence for the remainder of the day. It disturbed me, deeply.
I spread a blanket in the shade of a stately oak tree and an early lunch was served. Janey and I sat. For some reason, Sally preferred to stand. I didn't force the issue and it wasn't mentioned. We were all ravenous after the work we had done that morning and were still hungry when the sandwiches, chicken, chips and fruit were gone. Reaching into the bottomless basket, I pulled out three huge slabs of moist chocolate cake and a thermos of ice cold milk. For being health nuts, the calorie-laden cake disappeared very quickly and without one complaint. It was beginning to look like it might just be a good day, after all. I hoped.
When we got back to the house, showers were in order. Sally and I took one together, and, although playful, she was still subdued. I did my best to lighten her mood, and I was very concerned I might have injured her when I had taken her so forcefully in the woods. She insisted that she was not hurt, that she was tough enough to take whatever I could hand out, even to the point of offering to let me ass-fuck her again - her words, unfortunately - right then and there in the shower. I passed on the offer. I held her close to me until we ran out of hot water. I don't think it helped, but I didn't know what else to do.
The next phase of the day was initiated as I delivered another package to each of the containing a skin- tight Lycra bicycle body suit. Janey's was red, Sally's green. I waited for them at the door, and whistled very appreciably at their appearance. The lush bodies of my were highlighted to perfection, from the tight cheeks of their asses to the firm flesh of their tits. Even the slits of their pussies could be seen through the material.
To their visible disappointment, I handed each of them another pile of clothing containing a pair of nylon shorts and a baggy shirt. Their luscious bodies were to be well covered on this day. Shoes, helmet and a fanny pack completed the ensemble. Their freshly cleaned and loaded pistols were in the fanny packs.
I drove about an hour to a town on the shore. It was a quaint village that hadn't quite been hit by the hordes of vacationers yet. We rented a bicycle built for three at a local rental shop and I intended to spend a leisurely couple of hours riding up and down the boardwalk getting some fresh air and sunshine. It was a beautiful day and the sand, sun and salt air off the ocean combined in an invigorating way. I felt we could ride forever.
Janey had control of the handlebars that controlled the front wheel and so we went wherever she wanted. We rode by several of the ubiquitous male `hunks' that were walking, working out or sunning themselves on the beach. We never stopped to meet any of them, but Janey steered us by a couple of them several times so she could get a real good look at them. Or, perhaps it was vice versa. I noticed she didn't seem to have a particular `taste' in body type, hair coloring or other physical feature. Unless visibly bulging crotches in a tight Speedo can be considered a `taste.' It wasn't necessarily one of mine, anyway.
There was no rigid schedule to keep as there had been last week, and the afternoon was simply a relaxing time together. The view from my position in the back seat was outstanding. For the beginning of the trip traveling away from the parking lot and the car, the ride was pretty mundane; circuitous, but mundane. Then, on the way back to the rental shop, Janey misjudged a pothole, and hit it pretty hard. The jarring force of the front wheel hitting the rough edge of the pavement jammed the seat of the bike up into her crotch. It hit her with enough applied force on the implanted vaginal and anal devices to release some of the sexual enhancer into her system. Sally and I found ourselves in the helpless situation where a in the throes of a totally unexpected orgasm was suddenly steering us along a winding pathway, or attempting to, anyway. Janey had no hope of maintaining headway or her balance and we tumbled in a tangle of arms, legs and bicycle into the nearest dune.
Sally moved over to Janey, holding her tight until her raging orgasm passed, and she lay still, breathing deeply as if winded from a hard workout.
"Mom, what was that? Geeze, I mean, I know what it was. But what the Hell just happened to me?"
"Oh, Sweetheart, I think you can thank your dear ol' Dad for that. Just his way of saying `I love you,' I guess. If you don't want it, I'll make him take it back." I could tell she meant it.
"Oh, no! It was nice, ya' know, real nice. Just, well, a surprise, that's all."
"Mine was a surprise to me, too, Honey. This morning. A big surprise."
"Oh! So that's why...in your bottom..." Janey turned her face to her mother's and lowered her voice to almost a whisper. "Do you like it in, well, back there, Mom?"
"That's kind of a personal question, don't you think? Let's get on back to the car, OK?" I think that was the first time ever that Sally had avoided answering Janey when she asked a question about sex. It made me wonder just how big an error I had made that morning when she now wouldn't answer, or couldn't answer Janey truthfully. I knew she liked it up the ass. Something was seriously wrong.
It was a rough and bumpy ride back to the bike shop. Janey seemed to manage to hit every bump and pothole in the path, circling around to hit the good ones a couple of times. The `hunks' with their bulging Speedo suits were forgotten as she bounced her way to giggling orgasm after orgasm riding a bike in broad daylight. Both women were riding high on the sexual rushes they were having, leaving me to do most to peddling, and, as the route was quite circuitous, it took a lot more time to get back than it normally would have. But we made it.
Janey drove back to the house, again doing a good job. She and I had been out several times during the week to give her additional practice driving. She drove through the heavy downtown traffic with assurance, always leaving good safety margins between her and the cars in front.
We arrived home just as a large van pulled away. The driver gave me a cheerful wave as she drove by. Apparently everything had gone according to plan and the arrangements for the evening were in place. I smiled innocently at Janey's questioning look and she got an excited smile on her face, anticipating another surprise for the evening. I turned to watch Sally reading the logo on the side of the van and shake her head knowingly. She'd recognized the driver and the van. There was a little grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, but the sadness in her eyes was still there.
At the door, I stepped between them and held my hands lightly over their eyes. "Eyes closed please, ladies, until I say to open them."
They dutifully closed them and made the obligatory attempts to peek to see what was going on. I led them sightless, or nearly so, to a room on the second floor in the back of the house. It was a room that we seldom used.
"OK, you can open your eyes." They looked around. There were pillows scattered on the floor arranged around a large Persian rug. The walls were covered with draperies of sheer material in pastel colors and the windows were covered with tapestries. It really did look like something from Arabian Nights, and I was smugly pleased with the results.
"I wondered what Cece was doing here," Sally said. "I didn't remember her calling to say she was coming over."
"You know Cecilia Washington?" I asked carefully. More of Sally's undisclosed past was coming out, but this was just too coincidental that she would know the new wife of my best friend.
"Sure! She was my roommate in for the year and a half I was there. Why?"
Oh, Shit! "Oh, nothing. It's just that, well, Mac and I are good friends, too. I just wondered how come it never came up before."
Sally didn't answer, but had what I refer to as her `Mona Lisa' smile on her face; totally unreadable, but promising depths of intrigue and mystery that would drown any who ventured in unawares. I let it drop.
Mac's new wife, Cecilia, ran a catering service that specialized in arranging quality theme parties and dinners. I had never met her and, when I had approached her through Mac about this project, she had accepted the challenge immediately, even on short notice for such a small group. Now I knew why. I wondered just how much of a surprise this really was for Sally. This Arabian Night style theme had been a new one for Cece's business, but she had attacked it with enthusiasm. I could tell Sally and Janey were impressed, as was I.
In the corner of the room was a tent flap that covered the door to an adjoining room. I urged them through.
"Your attire for the evening is in the other room. I am not allowed to go in there, as that room is reserved for women only. And eunuchs, one of which I will refrain from becoming for the time being."
They laughed. Thank goodness.
"We are entertaining special guests this evening. You may not leave that room until our guests arrive. I expect you both to be on your best behavior, and to follow the example of one of the guests who will be here to help you and to explain your duties for this evening."
They looked intrigued, but confused. I simply put my hands together in front of me, bowed, and said, "Go with God," in my best Yul Brenner impression.
I heard their squeals of excitement as they explored the room next door and found their costumes for the evening. Satisfied that they were happy, I went to check on the food. I heard the shower in their room start up. I had just enough time to clean up myself before Amud and his arrived.
At seven o'clock sharp the doorbell rang. When I opened it, I saw Amud in a very impressive - and expensive - Western style business suit and a diminutive figure standing quietly behind him covered in cloth from head to toe. Without a word to them, I bowed and swept my hand back to usher them into the house. Still not speaking, I turned and led the way to the room where Sally and Janey waited. I pointed, showing Amud where to send his wife. He spoke briefly with her and she entered the room.
I then led him to the back room with the rug and pillows and spoke to him for the first time. "Amud, my friend, welcome to my tent. Come in, rest and wash the sand from your feet." I spoke to him in his own tongue, giving him a traditional greeting. In my research, I had learned I had two choices of greeting guests to my home, depending on my familiarity with the guest. One greeting used the word `sand,' the other the word `camel shit.' Since this was his first visit, I figured I should go easy on the familiarity.
Amud smiled broadly, and gave the traditional reply, which, loosely translated means, `If there's water left after my camels drink, I'll wash my feet.' He respected the level of familiarity I had set and did not add the ending, `Then my wives can drink what's left.' He entered my `tent' and sat in the place of honor.
"Would you like a drink, Amud?" thinking he would prefer tea or coffee or water. Or a soft drink, perhaps.
"Scotch, neat. Thank you."
I looked at him perplexed. All the preparations we had discussed had stipulated that no alcohol and that certain and by-products were not to be used in the preparation of the meal. Now he asked for Scotch? I couldn't figure it out, so I asked him if he would mind explaining.
"Oh, yes. In our beliefs and in our practices, we must be pure. But the religious leaders recognize that for certain cultural and business situations with non- believers, we must be allowed some latitude in these restrictions. For those times when we knowingly consume forbidden food or drink, we can pay a penance and be purified. But if we consume them unknowingly, we will die impure."
I didn't follow his logic, exactly, if one can call any religion logical. It sounded like a religious moneymaking scam if I ever heard one. But, a must follow his beliefs or else be a hypocrite. Better an earnest fool than a hypocrite. I got him a Scotch, and had one myself.
We discussed a broad range of topics, from his business and mine to the novel - to him, anyway - customs of Americans that he found somewhat perplexing. I learned that he was university-educated at Oxford, but that his love of hides and skins, as well as his talent for working with them, had led him to open the tack shop. His amusement at Americans' repressed fascination with the relationship between leather and sex was surpassed only by the amusement he found at the amount of money they would pay for common everyday leather items; with slight modifications, of course.
During the course of our conversation, we were served a variety of foods, some traditional, some not. Three lovely ladies brought out the food on silver trays. All the ladies were veiled. The only skin visible was around their eyes, hands and their bare feet, yet they never seemed so seductive. The veils and gauze-like material that clothed them hinted more than it showed. Dark shadows on the bodices gave a promise of and nipples, but the loose fitting material resisted all attempts to ascertain shapes and sizes. Even though I was familiar with two of the three serving wenches, the diaphanous covering clouded their familiar lines, adding a sense of the unknown or unexpected to the evening.
It was on Sally's second time as a server that Amud began to watch her with intent interest. I noticed he continued to watch her every time she served, but he didn't speak to me about it, although he seemed on the verge of saying something each time she left the room.
At the end of the serving time, music began to play. Amud settled back on his pillow, a cup of sweet coffee in his hands. With a `ting-ting,' the curtains parted and a willowy figure entered our enclosure. Amud's danced to the center of the room and did a fascinating traditional dance that promised everything and revealed nothing. It ended with her bowing before Amud as if in supplication. He looked puzzled.
"My apologies, Mr. Sampson, my rude wishes to interrupt our peace."
"Please, Amud. No apologies necessary. Please go ahead."
There followed a quick conversation between them, ending with Amud lifting her hand, turning it over and kissing her palm. I thought I saw his blush at this intimate gesture in a stranger's house. Amud continued to look thoughtful as the dancer gracefully rose and glided from the room.
He produced from an inner pocket a cigar case - another forbidden item - and offered me a fine Cuban cigar.
"These Cubans are not only forbidden to me, they are forbidden to you. Mine is religious, yours is foolish. As they are illegal in this country, shall we burn the evidence?"
"Yes, we probably should," I responded with mock seriousness. "But slowly, no?"
As we were enjoying the rare treat, he seemed like he wanted to say something, but didn't know how to begin.
"Amud, you look troubled. Is there something you wish to say to me?"
"Mr. Sampson... Lawrence... My friend... It is hard for me to speak to you in your house of these things, but it is harder to see these things and not speak of them to friends. Please do not take offense at what I say. It is not my wish to bring criticism into your tent."
I nodded, and indicated for him to continue. I hadn't the foggiest idea what he was talking about.
"My beloved and I have sensed you have begun to practice those things we spoke of last week; those things between and women and their places in the tent; those things which concern the heart and soul of the woman, and the pride of the man. But what I sense is that the acts you committed have disturbed the peace in your tent. You have acted rashly, as a stupid man, one with no sense of his power or his place. A powerful is foolish to use his might on the weak. No good can come of it. I do not know what you have done, Lawrence. It does not matter. I also cannot tell you how to fix it. But I can tell you that you must repair the breach with your love, the of the Fresh one, or peace will never return to this tent. The Happy one, although calm on the outside, is no longer filled with the joy you bring to her. In your harshness, you have taken from her, and not given. She now fears for the joy and peace in the tent. That is not her position, not her task. That is the task of the master.
"Lawrence, my friend, in some way I feel responsible. I told you of a wonderful place but not the path to follow to get there. If you had taken no steps along that path, you would have nothing to undo. But having taken a step, even a small one, along this path, you must now continue. But to lead your beloved down that path, one must be familiar with the path himself and know the destination. You must experience the path yourself, first, my friend. Otherwise you will become a cruel master and your time in this tent will be short and painful."
With that ominous prediction, he stood, clapped his hands and left. His followed him obediently out of the room, leaving me sitting alone in the large room.
The silence was deafening.
Chapter 22
I heard the front door close behind them and their limo pull away. I was still sitting there when Janey and Sally came in to say `Good night.' I sat there all through the night and into the next day.
Sally brought me breakfast, set the tray down, and left in silence. She picked it up later, the food untouched. She looked at me strangely, but didn't say a word. Lunch was the same way. Janey brought me dinner. She force-fed me a bite or two, but that was all I could eat. I felt their concern for me, but it was as if I was hovering above my body, watching a dull soap opera.
I had really screwed up. Big time. I had kind of figured out what it was, but I didn't have a clue why. I knew the relationship between Sally and me was evolving, changing and that there were going to be strains and stresses as we re-defined our respective roles within the new paradigm. Maybe it was going a bit faster than we were both willing to accept. I knew I had been unprepared for the responsibilities of my role, which I still didn't have a label for. I think that's what Amud had been talking about. I wasn't prepared. I hadn't been down `the path', as he called it.
I spent a long time agonizing over what to do. The ball was definitely in my court. On the one hand, Sally had made it clear that she could accept it if I could not bring myself to put her in bondage, and not to be her `Master.' But could I live with knowing that the woman I loved was being refused the thing that totally fulfilled her? I had seen, felt and experienced the explosive climax she'd had when I had tied her hands with the belt of her robe that one time. I had seen the basement and the evidence of her need for this.
The question was, how could I do something to her - safely - that I had never experienced? I had absolutely no desire to experience it! How would I know the limits? In fact, there was a gripping terror in me when I thought about experiencing bondage myself. Even worse was the thought of experiencing pain. I hate pain. So I brooded, trying to find a way out of the mess I had gotten myself, and us, into.
By late Wednesday night I came to a decision. Right or wrong, it was what I was going to do. At least it was doing something. I never was one to let life make my decisions for me. If something was going to go wrong, I wanted to be the one to screw it up. Go out with a bang, and the bigger the better.
I went into the bedroom I shared with Sally. She was still up. She watched in silence as I packed an overnight bag.
"I've missed you," was all she said.
I gently kissed her forehead, wiped the tears from her cheeks.
"I know. Me, too."
I hesitated, almost changing my mind. She was so beautiful and alluring. My body wanted to slip into the bed beside her and make gentle love to her. But my mind could not ignore the fact that there were some issues that we, no, that I had to resolve. I forced myself to keep packing.
"Look, I have to do something, but I'll be back tomorrow afternoon. We'll talk then - if you want to. I promise." I looked at her sitting there. "I love you. I want you to know that."
"I know. I love you, too. We'll talk tomorrow. I'll be waiting."
I left and drove to a motel near the Rosen Clinic. Thursday I underwent Dr. Wang's procedure on my wang and drove home. It really was painless, although I felt as if something was different.
During the hour-long surgical procedure tiny emitters were implanted in and around my penis and groin. A couple more were slipped just under my scalp at pre- determined locations over the parts of the brain that were pleasure centers. The end result was that by merely thinking about something erotic, I could bring my prick to an erection. It was all done with such small amounts of electricity that the devices were able to use from the bio-electrical discharges inside my body. It was a neat, self-sustaining system.
One of the more surprising features of the procedure was that I could control when sperm were included in my ejaculate; a kind of variable vasectomy. That was one less worry where Janey was concerned. I was still undecided about actually fucking her, but if I did, I sure as hell didn't want a teenage pregnancy to completely ruin her life.
It took about three hours for them to go through all the features and for me to practice them. When I was satisfied that I could control myself, I left them with my sincere thanks and the news that Dr. Wang's paperwork was already being processed. He could expect an answer within seven working days. I had sent his and his daughter's papers to Judge Hawthorne's office last week for processing. Dr. Wang looked at me in disbelief, then to Dr. Rosen. She simply beamed at him and nodded in confirmation. He was hugging his daughter and they were weeping for joy when I left.
Sally was waiting for me when I got home. She met me at the door, but instead of greeting me with a kiss, she knelt before me as a servant. My heart at her subservience. Not that she gave it, but that I wasn't worthy of receiving it from her.
That point was at the center of the issue was between us. She loved me, I loved her. That was not in question. She had submitted to me. She needed to be totally committed. She needed me to be totally committed, as well. We both knew I wasn't, and thus there was still an element of fear in her submission. She was not afraid that I would intentionally harm her. She knew that if I ever did harm her physically, I would curl up and die of shame and guilt. What she feared was that I would her unintentionally, and not just physically. That was because in terms of what we were entering into, I was just plain stupid and ignorant. I had no idea of her limits. I didn't know the path, as Amud called it, or where it went or why.
I was determined to change that. I had to take away her fear - and my own terror, as well. To do that, I had to `experience the path' myself, as Amud had said. It had taken me a long time to figure out what he meant. I may be slow, but I get there eventually. It took even longer to admit to myself that I could do what he meant. But I think I had always known what I would have to do and that, eventually, I would do it. My own fears held me back, almost to the point of losing Sally. But it was what I had to do, terror or no.
I knelt down beside Sally right there in the hallway by the front door. I took her hand and turned it palm up. I kissed it lovingly, knowing it would soon be causing me much pain. Then I placed the key to the dungeon in her hand. She closed her fist around it slowly. I think she thought I was rejecting that side of her, that I was closing that door.
Without a word to her, I put my wrists together in front me and presented them to her as if for binding. I bowed all the way down in front of her, my head to the ground. I stayed that way for a long time. I intended to stay that way until she released me.
I heard her gasp as she realized what I was doing. To her credit, she did not question if I was crazy. I would have had to say that I probably was at that exact moment. I heard her get up and leave, going down to the dungeon. After a time, she returned.
"I have to ask. Are you sure you want this?"
"Yes." I could barely talk for fear.
"Do you want a safeword?"
She had told me all about safewords, those escape clauses for submissives who weren't really sure of their Master or Mistress. Sally had never asked for one before she subjected herself to me, even with her fears. She'd had one with Gary, but he never honored it.
"No. You'll know."
"You realize this may take some time." She bent and slipped a hood over my head. The only openings were for my nostrils and a zipper over my mouth. I was blind and deaf when wearing the hood. She laced it tightly behind my head, pulling the leather smooth and tight around my head. I heard a bit of static, then a "click" and her voice, tinny from the small speakers, was in my ears.
"Stand and strip."
I struggled to my feet, slightly disoriented by the hood. Pins and needles shot though my legs as the blood flow was re-established. I had been on my knees a long time. I had not groveled that much lately and wasn't used to the position. I took off my clothes and dropped them on the floor. I stood before her naked when I finished. I didn't know what to do with my hands and they kind of flopped around, very much like the limpness I was experiencing in another part of my body.
"What am I supposed to do, pick up after you? Fold them neatly!" I felt a sudden horrendous pain in my left buttock emphasized this last command. It was my first taste of what was to come and it was biting and bitter. I almost shit, but I was afraid I would have had to clean that up, too.
I jumped and hopped around trying to avoid any more blows. The zippered hood muffled the yelp I let out, but it was still loud in my ears. When the pain subsided, I bent to pick up my clothes. This was no easy task, as I had moved when I jumped around. My clothes were no longer in my immediate vicinity. I had to get down on my hands and knees and do a grid search of the hallway before I found the last sock. I suspect she was moving some of the clothes around, keeping them from me, as I would swear I had twice searched the area where I finally found the last piece hiding. Regardless, I retrieved them all and was able to place a neatly folded bundle before her feet. Or where I imagined her feet were.
"Stand."
I stood.
I felt a strap being placed around my penis, down by the base. It looped once between my penis and scrotum, then again behind my sac. A last strap bisected my sac in two, one nut on each side. Then the whole thing was tightened until I thought my balls would burst. I felt a click of metal on metal and then a firm tug on my balls, urging me forward. I nearly fell over.
"If you want to keep them attached, you had better learn to follow when I tug on your leash." A harder tug followed, and so did I, quickly, if a bit awkwardly.
We descended into the basement. I assumed we were headed for the dungeon. I was correct.
I felt my wrists wrapped tightly with what felt like stiff leather cuffs. Then they were lifted over my head. I strained, standing on my toes to keep in touch with the ground for as long as possible before I lost even that touch. I felt her push against one side of me and my equilibrium went haywire. I was spinning with no points of reference. Vertigo set in quickly and I was totally disoriented. I vomited in the helmet and the fluid ran down between the mask and my face, dripping down my chest. The smell was awful.
An icy cold torrent of water beat against my body. She must have had a fire hose installed down there, there was so much water. She focused on my head and chest, rinsing away the vomit. I was torn between being thankful for the smell being gone and the terror of drowning in the hood. I learned how to drink through my nose, something I would not suggest to anyone.
Then nothing happened. I mean it. She must have left the room. I just hung there by my wrists. I didn't know if I was still spinning or not. I also had no recollection of time, other than my heartbeat. Under normal circumstances, I could estimate time by my regular resting pulse. I had always maintained a resting pulse of about 60. But these were not normal circumstances and my heart rate seemed faster than normal. I had no way of telling how long I hung there.
More time must have passed than I thought. The water I had ingested had worked its way through my system and was now ready to exit. I had to piss, but I couldn't. Call it pride, stubbornness or whatever I didn't want to urinate when I couldn't see where it was going. I don't think psychologists have ever figured out that peculiar fascination a has with watching himself pee. It stays with a from the time he is a little boy. Maybe it has to do with being able to write his name in the snow. I don't know. I just know I didn't want to let go while I was blinded. I focused on blocking out the urgent messages I was receiving from my bladder.
The first savage pain hit just below the back of my neck. It was a thin fiery strip of heat that stretched from one shoulder to the other. One end of the painful strip of fire curled into my armpit, as my arms were held over my head. The following blows descended slowly down my back, each one slightly lower than the previous one. I fought the pain, resisted giving in to it. I hated the pain, the whip. I began screaming when the first blows landed on the backs of my thighs. The pains continued. Not even the soles of my feet were spared that painful lash.
I had been hanging for so long that I didn't even try to move my feet or kick to avoid the lash. Moving caused more pain in my shoulders, arms and wrists than the whipping did so I just hung there, screaming.
The pain on the front parts of my feet, across the tops of my toes alerted me to the beginning of the next round. My screams raised several decibels in volume and, as the lash curled around my tender testicles, rose several octaves in sheer panic. No part of me was spared the lash. I was sobbing uncontrollably when it stopped, the pain in my groin agonizing, excruciating.
At some point I had voided, soiling myself, the yellow fluid and stinky solids streaming down my legs and pooling below me. I could smell the acrid human smell of and shit even through the hood. It smelled like fear.
I was not broken or submissive. I was mad. My anger was palpable. I roared into the hood; into the stillness of the dungeon; to myself. Sally had left me alone again, hanging over my own pile of shit.
I don't know when I awoke. I didn't remember falling asleep. I couldn't get my bearings at first, didn't remember where I was. The sudden burst of fresh pain broke through the haze of sleep shrouding my brain. Pain came in multiple points, many stripes at once. I could feel the thuds of the knots on the ends of the straps solidly landing on my back and sides, sometimes wrapping clear around and impacting my chest. I screamed. And I voided myself again. I fought the pain and humiliation. The agony grew in my back and in my spirit as the blows continued relentlessly.
I must have passed out when the lashes curled around my hip and the hard knots at the ends of the braided strands hit my unprotected, harnessed cock. I remember having a clear premonition of disaster as I felt the pain in one ass cheek but not the other and then I remember a second when I thought that I would die, hanging there in a basement. Then - then...there was nothing.
When I came to, I was lying on my back on a hard surface. My hands were stretched out straight over my head, which was still hooded. My ankles were now cuffed and my legs were pulled straight out and held slightly apart. Something narrow and hard that felt like a two-by-four on edge was jammed under my butt, raising my pelvis above the plane of my body. That made my groin, and my bound cock and balls, the high point.
What was confusing was that what I was feeling at that moment were the soothing hands of my lover moving over my aching body, tracing the angry lines that I could only imagine were criss-crossing my skin. I felt moisture then coolness as the water evaporated. I responded to the soft caresses and my erection became the prominent point, lofting high and proud. What a foolish, vain and predictable organ. The constraining straps around the base of my cock tightened due to the expanding size as a result of the influx of blood into that area. The constriction increased to the point where the outflow was constrained more than the inflow. I would now have a permanent hard-on until the straps were loosened.
"Cum for me. Now!" My lover's voice was with me in my darkness, a tinny voice in my ears.
I tried. Even with Dr. Wang's improvements, I couldn't do it. I was still fighting the bondage. I couldn't find the path.
I felt the surface I was lying on begin vibrate. The tension in my arms and legs increased. I was slowly being stretched out. She had me on a rack. Never again would I underestimate the effectiveness of medieval torture techniques. An added twist of a lever or wheel elevated my pelvis area more, bowing me completely off the table with only a single contact point under my hips. I felt as if I would break if I were forced to bend backwards any more.
I was whipped on the frontal parts of by body from the tips of my toes to the tips of my fingers. Special attention was paid to my hands and arms, as they had been too high for Sally to reach when I was hanging by my wrists. Even my shielded face received several terrifying blows. Then I was left alone again.
I was beginning to hate being alone. Even to the point of looking forward to the pain, strange as that sounds. At least then I wasn't alone. I began reaching out to my tormenter in my mind. I knew, from my time with the State Department, that this was a classic response of kidnap and torture victims. What they hadn't told us was how helpless the victims were to resist that response. I had no choice but to try to curry the favor of my tormentor. The depth of my visceral response frightened me. I had to do it.
The tender touching was repeated, but this time I was given water to drink through a straw before it started. It was the first fluids I had had since I had been hosed off. The zipper over my mouth was opened, and a drop of water placed on my parched lips. I felt the straw and I in as much as I could, as fast as I could. The first rush of cool water hit my stomach and I vomited. The acid taste of bile stayed with me, even after I was able to take in more water.
She hosed me off again, and then commanded me to again. When I couldn't, Sally moved away from me. The pain when she whipped me on my wet skin was even worse than before. I was unconscious when she stopped, but I had lasted a long time before I lost my senses. Longer than either of us expected me to, I would guess. I could feel her frustrations at my resistance to the pain, but I didn't know what to do to, how to help her.
It went like this without an apparent end. I was hung, tied, bent, whipped, stretched and then left alone. Then again. And then again. The pain and the loneliness eventually became secondary to the terror and the frustration I experienced when, at the initiation of each session, I heard that same whispered "Cum for me!" When I failed to please my Mistress, I was beaten senseless. The command was given again at the completion of each session, if I was still conscious.
When I was left alone, I continued the futile fight against the pain and the bondage. I could not, would not give into it. It was blackness and void. Terror. Unknown. I sensed in it a danger of deathly proportions. My very being, my spirit, the essence of who I was in my head, would not give itself up to that perceived evil that I sensed lurking in that darkness. I would not break. I could not. I was more afraid of that unknown than the pain.
I was delirious, too. I knew it. I was getting desperate, as well. In the back of my mind, I knew that if this did not work, I could and probably would lose the most precious thing I had ever known. I would lose the respect of Sally, if not Sally herself. In desperation, I did the only thing I could think of.
I surrendered not to the darkness, but to the Will of my Mistress. It was that simple. Why I hadn't thought of it before is an indication of my ignorance, I guess. Or how paralyzed I was by terror. Or how much of a stubborn, prideful son-of-a-bitch I am. I couldn't give in to the darkness, but my Mistress was light. She was a guide into the unknown terror. With the last desperate thoughts of my sane mind, I surrendered myself to my Mistress.
I don't remember what happened after that, but Sally said she knew something was different as soon as she woke up from her catnap. I was resting peacefully in one of the more uncomfortable positions she had bound me into. I had stopped screaming, stopped fighting. When she gave me the command to ejaculate, I did. I don't remember. I was literally out of my mind.
I later learned that Sally had never me alone in the dungeon. She or Janey were always there. I had thought I had felt a different set of hands soothing me, but I wasn't sure. Only one set used the whips and caused me pain. But there had been two sets of hands that soothed me.
I remember little after my surrender. I was just there, floating. I know there was more bondage, more pain. But it was what my lover, my Mistress wanted, and I only hoped it gave her joy. That she wanted it was the only reason I needed to accept that she was giving it to me. I was hers totally. That time of total abdication of my will to Hers was the most peaceful time of my life that I can ever remember.
The last thing that happened, my final test, I guess, I do remember. Very well. My hands were bound tightly behind my back, my ankles and calves tied to my thighs with my knees forced wide apart. I was forced to kneel on the cold cement of the dungeon floor, which was still damp from my last `bath'. I was tightly hooded, as I had been throughout the ordeal. I could not see or hear, but I could feel the footstep vibrations of other people walking around me. I cringed inside, beginning to fight the fear. But then I reached out and found that Mistress was there. I don't know how, but I could feel her, and I relaxed. What she wanted, I wanted.
The zipper over my mouth was opened and I was offered a drink. Then I felt something I had hoped to live my entire life without feeling. The warm solid flesh of a real cock was introduced to my mouth. It was a large one with a broad circumcised head. I froze.
A soft gentle voice came to my ears, my Mistress. "Cum for me, my love. Cum."
I blew my wad across the room and the cock into my mouth. All for my Mistress, because She willed it. I was bobbing and as best I could, trying to do all the things that I thought would feel good to me. For some reason, it was important to me that I do a good job at this vile task, the very best I could. It was as if the prestige of my Mistress was at stake. My performance would be her grade. I did my best, but I failed. The cock did not spew it's into my mouth. As it slipped out of my mouth, I cried out to let me try again, I would do better, I pleaded. Please....
A soft fingertip on my lips stilled my anguish and the zipper was closed. I bent forward in shame, awaiting my punishment for failing Her. My head rested on the ground. I thought I knew what was coming, but I was wrong. It wasn't the whip I felt on my ass. It was the head of that stiff cock wet with my own saliva being placed against the opening of my virgin ass. My head jerked up off the ground, my back arching in silent protest against this invasion. Gentle, soothing hands spread my ass cheeks and a cool substance was forced past the tightly clenched puckered ring.
I knew better than to resist, but to a completely straight male, this was almost more than I could take. I fought against this intrusion of my body by another male's member with every fiber of my being. In my current position, the only things I could move were my fingers. I clenched and unclenched them in utter frustration as the plumb-sized head of that solid phallus slipped past the straining muscular ring. Tears of frustration and humiliation filled the hood covering my head.
Mistress lightly took hold of my clenching hands with hers. I vented all my pain and frustration into that touch. I cried out my terror and revulsion to this homosexual act to her with my mind. She drew it all out of me. But the penetration didn't stop. I understood it was what She wanted. She knew that as much as the pain and bondage had been hard for me to accept from her, asking me to submit to this act was the ultimate test for me. I almost couldn't do it. I almost failed. I could still feel and taste the strange slipperiness of the male pre-cum in my mouth. It gagged me. And almost broke me.
I sensed the force of her gentle will surrounding me, comforting me. I relaxed into it, releasing into her the abject terror in my soul. I forced myself to swallow the residual male fluids that were still in my mouth. I forced myself to push back on that intrusive shaft, opening myself up to this rape, this coupling. I pushed back willingly, if not joyfully to meet the hard, frenzied thrusts until I felt the hot flooding of my colon. I had not failed my Mistress this time. I wept at the immense pleasure I felt at pleasing Her.
"Cum for me my love. Cum."
And I came. For Her.
Chapter 23
I woke up in bed. I smelled hot coffee and bacon. I was famished.
I stumbled getting out of bed, my legs not wanting to support me. I didn't know how long I had been in the dungeon, but it was long enough that my legs were not used to supporting my weight. My arms, Hell, my whole body ached, including my eyelids. Even the light coming through the curtains hurt. I felt like shit.
I held on to the dresser until I was stable, then slipped on my robe. I looked briefly at my body in the mirror as I passed by. There were remarkably few marks or bruises, given what I had been through, and what I felt like. The marks around my wrists would last the longest, I guessed. I grinned, realizing I was almost disappointed there wasn't more visible damage. I was definitely looking for the sympathy factor. Or was it I was looking for them as badges of courage?
I made my way to the kitchen, noting in passing that Janey's room was empty, the bed made. A sure sign she was not at home. I found myself standing at the kitchen door, uncertain of what was to happen now. D‚j… vu, all over again.
Two place settings, two coffee cups, one mine. Fresh squeezed OJ, robe, tied extra tight. I knew what that meant. Suddenly, I didn't ache quite as much.
I took her on the kitchen table, breakfast forgotten for the time being. Our coupling was gentle and vicious at the same time. We were at once equals to each other and submissive to each other. It was a contest to see who could bring the most pleasure to the other. We both won.
I had to eat something, other than Sally, and wolfed down an egg, some toast, bacon and washed it down with OJ while Sally was recovering from her latest climax. The coffee was cool by then, and we both downed a quick cup before heading to the bedroom.
"Janey?"
"Out."
"How long?"
"Until I tell her I'm ready for her to come home."
"That bad, huh?"
"Shut up and make love to me."
I noticed she didn't say `Fuck me.' So I didn't. I made love to my Love.
We called Janey home two days later.
That marked a major turning point in our relationship. Right or wrong, what I had gone through had stilled the fear that was growing in Sally. I had experienced the path Amud had talked about. I would not lead her down the wrong one, or take a wrong turn to a disastrous destination. She knew now she could trust me completely as I had trusted her.
She literally glowed in her happiness. Amazingly, over time we found we could sense each other. Not in a conscious sense, but at a certain subconscious level. I learned to trust this sense to guide me in our times together, and she experienced climaxes of an intensity that surprised even her. As I became more adept at sensing her needs, I could meet them better. Sally would stagger around the house for days in a state of bliss, simply from the knowledge that we would be together that night, or whenever she needed me. Which was often.
But as the time passed, she grew more and more anxious as the much-anticipated start of her bondage sessions didn't happen. I could sense in her a restlessness, a palpable spring of longing. It was winding her up tighter and tighter. But I still needed time to understand the things I was sensing, to get used to the things I was feeling. And to figure out what it was I wanted to do with us. She had let me know in no uncertain terms that what happened next was up to me alone. Her complete and simple trust in me scared me more than what I had just gone through.
I had always been pretty self-confident. I had been described as handsome, rugged, charming, etc. I know I never had problems attracting girls, and later, women into my bed, at least up to the time I had met and completely fallen for Sally. But even that was in character for me. I always went after what I wanted, and generally got it. Not by luck, but by skill and determination. OK, some luck, and a lot of connections, too.
But now? Even though I was scared shitless, now I knew, or felt I knew what direction to take us. I wasn't just confident. I was absolutely sure. And it scared even more shit out of me. I remembered what had happened when I had brutally taken Sally on the shooting range. I had been sure then, too, and I had hurt her spirit, if not her asshole.
So I took my time, feeling my way slowly through this new experience. I practiced sensing her, then acting on that information. I learned to trust myself, and grew stronger as a result. I also found that that mind control thing between us had grown. I discovered I was stronger now, much stronger that Sally or Janey. Not only that, but I found I could project it onto others in a crude manner and affect their feelings. I was not just a transmitter of my own feelings and a receiver of other's emotions. I had control over what was sent out. But it was like playing with Nitroglycerin while riding a bucking bronco. Because my ability was so powerful and unpredictable, I didn't play with it much. I needed more help with that.
Other than that, things were getting down to normal. Janey was settling into her summer routine. Time heals all wounds, and as the time passed, she seemed to forget. She seemed more at ease around the kids from school, too, having them over on occasion for cheerleading practice.
It was at one of these practices that I manage to expose myself to the entire squad, and firmly re- establish Janey as one of the most popular kids at school, among the girls, anyway. Janey had been at cheerleading practice at the high school gym, and, as usual, Sally and I took advantage of the privacy to make love. Not that Janey's presence ever held us back. With their link, Janey was very much a part of the sexual experience - when she was around. But it was different, novel for Sally to do it alone, so we took advantage of every opportunity.
Sally had drifted off into a light sleep after a rigorous and satisfying bout. I got up to get a bottle of wine for when she awoke, so we could continue the session uninterrupted. I dashed into the room on my way to the kitchen. It wasn't until I was completely into the center of the room that it registered that there were several people, all girls, all around me.
Gasps, silence. Then, one girl, a brave one, no doubt, whispered into the reverent silence, "Wow, Janey! Your Dad's big! I didn't know they got that long! Or thick!" I don't think she was referring to my feet or my nose.
Beet red, but what the Hell, "Hi, girls! Uh, Sally and I weren't exactly expecting you here today. Obviously. I just wanted to get some wine from the kitchen. I'll just grab a bottle and, uh, leave you alone." I started walking at what I thought a normal pace would be for a naked in a room full of excited young towards the kitchen door, my erection pointing the way. The weren't the only ones excited at that moment.
"That's OK, Dad. I'll get it for you. Would you like to stay here and chat with the girls, or should I bring it to you in your room?"
I grinned, looking around at the mixture of awed, confused, embarrassed and outright lustful expressions on the faces in the room. "You'd better bring it into the room. Before I do anything really, really embarrassing. Thanks, honey."
Groans.
"No prob. White or red?" She was enjoying my predicament way too much.
"White. I'm enough already!" I raised my hand to tip an imaginary hat to the girls, gave a gallant bow to them and walked proudly - and stiffly - out of the room.
Giggles and shouts of "chicken" and "please stay" chased me down the hall, but fortunately none of the girls did. Sally was surprised at my sudden ardor as she was still asleep when I entered her. Then she sensed Janey at home and heard the other girls' raucous and bawdy laughter.
"Just what did you do, lover boy? Is there anything I should know?"
"Oh, nothing. I just introduced myself to the on the cheerleading squad."
"Oh, OK. Hey, wait a minute! Is that `myself' that's poking into me right now?"
"Uh-huh. Really, it was an accident. Honest!"
"I'll bet, knowing how you like the stuff. Shit. Nobody called the cops?"
"Not yet. But the day is still and Janey only brought us one bottle. I may have to go back out there for another. Would you like something to eat? I'm starved! I'll just hop out and get..." I was cut off as she lowered herself over my face.
"Chew on this, dear. I have all I want right here." She gripped my cock firmly, letting me know what she was referring to. I mumbled my muffled reply, deeply content with my current situation.
Not surprisingly, that one bottle was enough.
About a week later Sally and I were relaxing in the hot tub. It was just off our bedroom but Janey could get to it by an outside door. Besides, the doors were never closed and she could get to it through our room. Janey had been surprisingly respectful of our privacy lately, as if she understood that we needed the time to learn our new roles.
Sally and I never used suits when we were by ourselves, as we were then.
"Hi, guys! Mind if I join you?" Janey's voice came through the lattice. I was surprised she asked.
"Not at all, come on in," said Sally.
"Hope you don't mind Mom, but I borrowed one of your suits. Fits pretty good, don't you think?"
I partly opened one eye and looked up at this blinding vision of loveliness pirouetting on the deck. I was instantly hard. She had on `the suit.' Sally only wore it now on special, very special occasions. It never failed to get me hard when Sally wore it. And it seemed to be having the same effect on me when Janey wore it.
"Oh, dear." Sally said softly. Her hand immediately went to my chest and slipped down to grasp the periscope I had raised in celebration of the vision on the deck. She slipped up out of the water briefly and straddled my body, facing away from me. As she sat back down over me, I entered her tightness and slowly, ever so slowly felt myself slip up into her heat.
"Does she know?" I whispered.
"Do I know what?" asked Janey, innocently.
"How special that suit is, for one," said Sally.
"What's so special about it?"
Sally turned to me. I shrugged. Janey already knew a lot. A little more shouldn't hurt.
"I wore that suit the first time we, uh, the first time, uh..."
"What, Mom? The first time you kissed? The first...oooohhhh." I could see the twinkle in her eyes. She sensed there was something more behind it than just that, though, and she almost trembled in anticipation of learning the juicy parts. I grinned, thinking I could cut to the chase and bring the conversation to a halt.
"Your and I went to the shore for the day. She wore that suit. She looked so hot in it, still does, too, I couldn't keep my hands off her."
"Really? He attacked you, Mom?"
Sally looked back around at me, smiling softly at the fond memories. "He didn't stand a chance. It was a calculated provocation, honey." She turned back to her daughter. "It was very much like you're doing now."
"Oh." I almost thought I saw a look of guilt flash across that impish face. "Am I that obvious?"
"To me. But I think you'll need it to get through to him, though; or something just as obvious. He's pretty dense about these things."
I was lost. What the hell were they talking about? Were they saying what I think?
"Just be careful with that particular suit especially the bottoms. He took me seven times that first time I wore it. And we've put it to good use many times since without fail."
"No! You're kidding, right? Seven? can't... they aren't supposed to... seven times? All at once? Bang, bang, bang?"
"Well, it took him the best part of that day. And believe me, it was the best part, too!"
"So what happened?"
"I discovered he can't resist my ass when I wear the bottoms."
"Your ass? You mean he put it in back there, like he did in the woods?
"Uh-huh. And like it is now." I thought I had recognized that particular tightness. It was such a lovely feeling.
"You mean you're doing it, right now? Up your butthole? Wow! Wait, you said the bottoms. Don't you wear the top?"
"Uh-uh. Don't need `em." She turned again to me, wiggling her bottom cheeks provocatively against my crotch.
"Like this?"
We both watched the tiny piece of cloth drift to the deck. This time, as she turned, she paused facing away from us, and bent slightly at the waist. She looked around at us over her shoulder. She winked at me. I couldn't help it. I flooded Sally's passage and did not soften.
Sally looked back at me and grinned. She enjoyed teasing me with her luscious daughter, knowing I would have her when Janey was ready. And that point was fast approaching.
Janey, topless, got in the hot tub and slid over next to me, her bare bobbing in the bubbling water. "Mom, are you going to get off him anytime soon? Do I get a turn?" She looked from one of us to the other. "Come on, guys. I've been pretty patient with you as you acted like newlyweds, but a gets horny hearing all that screaming. And those moans makes, too."
We laughed at her attempt at humor. I could feel Sally's indecision. The time for me to deal with Janey was approaching very fast, indeed. She knew it was what we agreed needed to be done, but she still just couldn't quite accept the actuality of sharing me, especially with her daughter. I helped her make her decision. I slipped my hand around her waist and captured her clit between my finger and thumb. As I rhythmically squeezed the sensitive nub, I slid another finger into her cleft. I heard her sigh, as she knew this was one of the things I did when we were just getting started for the night.
"No, dear. Not tonight. Tonight he is all mine." Spoken softly into the night, her voice quivered, as if she was crying. Janey looked at her curiously, then snuggled up against me, content that her was extremely happy. I felt the sharp points of her bare nipples against my arm as she brushed them back and forth. She wasn't trying to turn me on, although I didn't mind. She just needed to feel someone else, to share with us. I put my free arm around her briefly and gave her a hug. Her wan smile told me she knew she was out of luck tonight, but also told me that soon. Soon...
I turned my attention to my lover, moving the arm that had just hugged Janey around her to pull her back against me. I established a firm grip on her floating breasts, switching from one luscious orb to the other, teasing them, reveling in their resilience.
Sally was riding me slowly, tantalizing me, telling me in her own special way that I belonged to her, now and always. I knew that, but it was nice, anyway.
"I will always be yours, my love." I whispered in her ear. I paused.
"Cum for me."
I felt her anal muscles tighten around my iron prick as she cried out and spasmed, the energy from her orgasm flowing into all three of us. Janey basked in those feelings she shared with her and soaked in the hot water for a while. She was still just a little jealous of her mother's orgasms that she could only share through their special link, but she was even happier for her Mother's happiness to let it create a wall between them.
We never noticed when Janey left.
Chapter 24
The start of the opera and symphony concert season in the Fall was a big social event in our community. The first concert to be performed at this year's gala was scheduled to be a collection of pieces by one of Sally's favorite composers. I thought his work was pretty good, but personally I liked a more bombastic style, like Wagner. But for romance and setting the mood, the season opener held a lot of promise.
Two weeks prior to the concert, I announced that the opening night would be a special event for both Sally and Janey. Both immediately started bugging the shit out of me, but, as I expected them to try their damnedest to get a hint out of me, I was able to simply smile at them. It drove them nuts. They didn't have a clue what to expect.
The ornately wrapped packages from The Guild began arriving shortly after my announcement. Everything that organization did, they did with style, and their delivery service was no exception. All packages not taken by the customer immediately were delivered by shining golden vans with ornate filigree detailing. It was much in the style of the royal coaches in the 18th century. There was no mistaking one of them as it drove through the countryside. You could almost feel the envy of the neighbors when one of those vans arrived in your driveway. Some particularly nosy gossips had been known to follow a van for miles out of their way just to see who the lucky person was who was on the receiving end of the delivery.
The vans were driven by special bonded couriers dressed in distinctive uniforms and pompous-looking tall hats with plumes. The couriers were male or female, fit, polite, well-trained and well-armed. It was a good thing, too, given the value of some of the deliveries they had to make.
The delivery area for the vans included a five-state area. Beyond that, the bonded couriers hand-delivered each package, using whatever mode of transportation was best suited to meet the delivery schedule. And always with that dash of style and panache, of course. More and more of the distinctive uniforms were being spotted on over-seas flights as the craftsmen of The Guild became known throughout the world for the quality of their work. It was unparalleled. The uniforms soon provided automatic and easy entry into countries with normally very tight customs officials. It didn't usually take more than one reprimand from a king or high official to grease the skids.
I had specified that the packages were to be delivered sealed, and they were. Sally and Janey had some very unkind words for me when they realized the boxes were sealed with a wax Guild seal, and their efforts at snooping were thwarted. Again, I merely smiled, enjoying the mounting frustrations and tensions in them. Anticipation and the unknown make a wonderful combination in a woman. I only hoped what I had planned for the evening lived up to their expectations.
The morning of the event I placed new silk robes on their beds and awoke each with a kiss and a light breakfast. They were instructed to bathe - not shower - using the special bath beads I had placed in their bathrooms for at least 90 minutes, and not to leave their rooms. They were to be in my office down the hall ready for their first appointment of the day at 11:00 that morning.
Both appeared in my office about 5 minutes early, their reddened skin glowing pink through the light white silk of the short robes. The robes had no belts, much to Sally's disappointment, I think, and opened with the slightest motion. I smiled at them, motioned for them to sit in the chairs in my office, and proceeded to ignore them for the next 5 minutes. With difficulty on my part, I might add. The robes were opened quite often and intentionally. I didn't get any actual work done, but I made my point, I hope. I was surprised they were only 5 minutes early.
At exactly 11:00 I stood up, kissed the back of Janey's hand and led her out to the room. There was a table set up inside a cloth booth. I held out my hand for her robe, which she gave me. I looked at her nude form for several moments, touching her lightly. As I anticipated, even those light caresses caused shivers of delight to chase each other up and down her spine. She was panting by the time I helped her up onto the table and instructed her to lie face down.
I placed a folded towel across her glorious posterior. This brought a moan of disappointment from her. I think she thought I was going to screw her on the table right then. As tempting as that was, I had other plans.
I held back one of the flaps of the booth and motioned for the person standing silently outside to enter. The slightly built woman of descent moved gracefully into the booth. She bowed low to me, then shrugged off her over-blouse. This left her in just a short band of cloth covering her genital area, tied at one side sarong style. As she turned to Janey, I caught sight of a pair of firm apple-sized topped with chocolate nipples.
The masseuse kneeled up on the table next to the girl, lightly tracing the lines and patterns of the muscles on her back. As I left the cubicle, I heard the first of many moans as Janey relaxed into her first massage.
Sally was pouting prettily when I returned for her, but brightened as I took many more liberties with her than just kissing her hand. I brought her quickly to the edge of a climax, then eased off and just let her simmer on the edge. When I was done teasing her, I pulled her robe back around her to cover her arousal and led her into the room. A table in the second booth waited for her.
She gave me a quizzical look when she heard the low, long moans coming from the adjacent booth. I held out my hand and helped her off with her robe in answer. I beheld her naked beauty once again, appreciating it as if for the first time. My open - and very obvious - admiration of her charms brought a pleasing blush to her skin, spreading from her face, down her neck and on to the tops of her creamy breasts.
I helped her onto the table. With nudges and lingering touches I maneuvered her so she was face down and then let her masseuse into the booth. The two women could have been twins, the only difference being that Sally's had longer hair. She, too, climbed on the table and straddled Sally's waist, one knee on each side of the prone woman. One rubbery ass cushioned the other. I waited until the low purring Sally makes when she is contented started to come from her booth as well, and left them alone.
I grinned maliciously as I went back to the office, not to work, but to rest. I was going to need it. The two masseurs had instructions to keep the two women relaxed but aroused for the next hour. Under no circumstances were Sally or Janey to be allowed to orgasm. I wanted them so on edge their teeth hurt. Tonight would be special indeed.
Sally and Janey kind of oozed into my office an hour later, their eyes glazed and knees wobbly from the stimulating massages they had just undergone. But the blush on their cheeks was unmistakable. Janey's expression mirrored her mother's, and I was very familiar with Sally's `if I don't get fucked in two seconds, I'll chop it off and stuff it in myself' look. It was time for the first box.
I reached into my desk and pulled out two small packages. I handed one to Janey and one to Sally.
"You may open these now," I said.
The bows were ripped off with the ferocity of lions at the first kill in a month. Their twin gasps of pleasure were almost synchronized to the nanosecond.
"Oh, Dad! It's beautiful! Mom, look!" Janey held up a white-gold necklace with a ruby encrusted key on the chain. The length of the chain let the key snuggle into the top of her cleavage. I moved around behind her and put it on her. It was her first piece of expensive jewelry, and she was as pleased as I had ever seen her.
"That is the key to my heart, Honey. I wanted you to know how I felt about you and that you will always have a special place there," I whispered in her ear as I hooked the clasp securely.
She turned and hugged me, tears in her eyes. "I love you, Dad. Thank you so much! It's beautiful."
Sally was still staring at her present. It, too, was jewelry.
"Here, my love, let me help you with that." I moved behind her and waited until she finally lifted the ends of the jewelry into my hands. Her head bowed as I fastened it behind her neck with a solid click.
I leaned down and whispered so that only she could hear. "Do you understand what it means when you wear this?"
She nodded. Her hand slipped up to lightly touch the jeweled slave's collar I had locked around her neck. The collar was wide, about two and a half inches. It was an intricate weave of platinum wire and rods that let it flex around her neck, but not warp or roll in any other axis. The wire and rods were covered with reflective stones, mostly diamonds with some emeralds mixed in. The effect was to create a band of light around her neck with mysterious flashes of emerald. It was more beautiful than I had hoped when I described it to the jeweler. It was devastating.
As I stood behind her, watching her reaction, drinking in her beauty, I noticed the trembling of her body, and I wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement. I hoped the latter. I brushed her cheek lightly with my lips before continuing.
"I want this night to be special for you. I know how much you have longed for this to begin, and it will, tonight. But it will still be a little while, yet. You may wear this collar now, or not, your choice. I will not require anything of you until all your preparations for this evening are complete. Until then, you will behave as Sally. Understood?" I lifted her chin and looked her in the eye.
"Yes, Master," she whispered softly. Then she threw her arms around me, squealing with delight. The two women ooohhed and aaahhhed over each other's adornments until I ushered them out to the next appointment.
I led them back into the room. The booths and the massage tables were gone and in their places stood two barber-style chairs. An exclusive beauty salon from a near-by town had sent two highly skilled technicians and two assistants to pamper my two princesses. When they had been comfortably seated in the chairs, the technicians flew into a choreographed dance of activity around my two blondes. I had ordered the works for them. They were manicured, pedicured, trimmed, oiled, scrubbed, rubbed, tubbed, sanded, face- packed, mud-packed and every other tortuous process women go through for the sake of beauty.
As much as I loved doing it myself, I had Sally shaved. Janey's pubic region was trimmed way back from her bikini wax to just a thin strip of short soft hairs pointing to paradise. The technicians and assistants had the same instructions as the masseuses. They were to keep the treatments as sensual as possible without letting them go over the edge. From the cries of frustration I heard coming through the open door of my office, they were very good at their jobs.
When the treatments were done, two of the technicians led the pampered women to their respective bathrooms where the assistants had drawn another steaming bath for each them. There the were stroked, soaked, soaped and rinsed, stroked some more, hair washed and conditioned, and then stroked and soaked again in steaming hot water with bath oils added.
When they were done, they were led back into the room where their hair was done. At my instructions, Janey's tresses were done up in an elegant style leaving her shoulders and neck bare. Sally's hair was braided in an elegant French braid, the broad intertwining stands hanging down in a single plait that reached halfway down her back.
Makeup was applied skillfully after their hair was done. Although only 15, Janey looked much when she was finished. Sally was made up just as skillfully, looking regal but more like her than Janey's mother. Of course, all the powders and paints could only accent the beauty of the canvases they were applied to. The flashes of excitement in the eyes of the two painted ladies were repeated many times over in the tiny sparkles embedded in the blush applied to their faces. I smiled in satisfaction. They were like two little kids, full of excitement on Christmas morning.
The day was creeping by, closing in on the opening of the opera. I saw the technicians out to their van. They would return after we left to pack their equipment. Their service had been excellent. They would be retained again, and often.
Alone with Sally and Janey, I began the difficult final phase of the preparation. I would now have to reveal more of my plans for the evening to them, taking away some of the mystery. I took Janey by the hand and led her to her room. There I presented her with a stack of boxes, all with The Guild's seal.
"Your attire for this evening is in those boxes. I hope you like it." I paused, feeling almost like a teenager again. "Uh, Janey, I would like this evening to be kind of like our first date; a special time just between you and me. Will you go with me as my `date' this evening?" I offered formally.
Her eyes got big, then clouded as she remembered Sally. "What about Mom?"
I looked directly at her, holding her hands in mine. "Janey, your will be there, too. She will be with us, but she won't be, kind of." She looked quizzical. "Look, I hope I'm doing the right thing with her tonight. But it's kind of hard to explain. When you have dressed, come into our room. Perhaps you will understand after you see her. She will be happy tonight, Honey. At least, I hope so."
I could feel her questioning eyes burning holes in my back as I left the bewildered teenager standing there. At the door, I turned.
"Is it a date?"
"Oh, yes! I'm sorry. Yes!" She shook off the rest of her questions and tore into the many boxes. I wished I could stay and watch the reverse striptease as the buxom teen got dressed. I had no intention of disrobing her this evening, but it would have been delectable. I had chosen clothing that appealed to my sensuous side and I hoped it would appeal to hers as well.
I had purchased soft silky under things that were as sheer as possible for her to wear tonight. They were more for window dressing than function. Unfortunately, I wasn't planning to be doing any window shopping tonight. The tiny bra and were virginal white and had a matching garter belt. I had a sense it would be her first, but the sheer white only came to just above her mid-thigh, so it was necessary. Besides, I wanted her to be aware of the availability of her sex. Pantyhose, while convenient for the workplace, acted like armor plating in a romantic situation.
Her dress was a simple black affair, deceptive in style. The material was silk, with silver highlights woven into it. It was not a revealing cut and fully covered her, yet the dress revealed her charms to the sharp observer. With the exception of two silver straps over her shoulders, she was bare above the swells of the tops of her breasts. The material fell to ankle length, hugging her body closely, outlining and defining her breasts, abdomen, hips and legs. Two sexy slits from the bottom hem to just above mid-thigh allowed her to move freely.
I had also provided her with the highest heeled shoes she had ever worn. I hoped she wouldn't be too off balance by their height. The dress was designed to be worn with that height heel. The silver shoes, the silver straps, and the white gold of her necklace brought out the highlights in the dress. She was going to look elegant.
There were also some strange accessories from the Rosen Clinic in a separate box. I hoped she wouldn't object to them. Having been fitted for them, they shouldn't cause much, if any, discomfort, either on application, or wear. There were two soft plastic cups that fit perfectly over each breast. They were so exactly shaped that they were labeled `Left' and `Right' so they wouldn't be confused. They were thin and pliable and you could still see her erect nipple through her dress when aroused. I intended for her to spend most of the evening in that state.
Two other accessories were designed to slip into the vagina and rectum. They were thin, relatively innocent looking devices that could shake her to her core. There were instructions with drawings enclosed in the boxes showing how and where to insert each special accessory. The vaginal probe had a small curved arm at about 90 degrees that ended in a small hollow cap. The cap fit snuggly over her quiescent clitoris, but would expand as necessary.
The finale of the Rosen's gadgets was a pair of earrings, sparkling like diamonds, which they were. The clasps of the earrings incorporated a Rosen unit that turned the ears into a highly erotic zone. I wasn't sure how it worked, but I believed in their work, so I was sure it would be effective. Janey was in for a memorable night.
But I didn't watch her dress. I had other things to do. Namely, prepare my lover for her own special night. I wasn't really sure how she would receive the news about my date with her daughter. That was a gamble on my part. I only hoped it paid off.
I went back into the room to find Sally on her knees, her hands clasped behind her neck, her head bowed down. God, what that did to her tits! I was tempted to let her stay in that position and use her mouth. It had been a `hard' day for me. But this was too early yet for what I had planned. And she was just a bit too eager.
"Sally, stand up, please. Your preparations for this evening are not yet complete. I have some things to ask you which require an honest and open response. Please?" I held out my hand.
She looked at me sexily, glancing up through those gorgeous lashes. My favorite look. Her smile ignited my heart as she gracefully took my hand and got up. I held her gaze and never noticed when she released my hand. I was lost in a sea of emotion, torn between my need to treat this woman I loved with all my heart with tenderness and love, and fulfilling her need to be dominated and bound. Steeling myself to keep to the plan I had chosen for the evening, I took her hand and led her to the bedroom, where I had laid out her attire.
It wasn't much. She still had on her glittering slave collar. I ushered to her dressing table and sat her in the low stool in front of it. I first took a slender package and opened it, withdrawing a pair of similar to Janey's. These had a bit more cling around the top banding to hold them without garters, however. I slowly slid them over the smooth skin of her long legs, caressing each one as the slid into place. We were both trembling when it was over. It was one of the most erotic things I had ever done for her, and her excitement was visible, as was mine.
Next I selected a long narrow box. Amud and his had made this piece. I withdrew a pair of shoulder- length white gloves of the finest leather. They looked and felt like velvet and were without blemish. She held out one hand, then the other as I slipped them up her proffered arms. As I smoothed them out, working the wrinkles up to the tops, I squeezed the top of each glove, tightening my hand around her upper biceps. The faint click of a ratchet could be heard as the metal rings in the top of the gloves closed on themselves, locking the gloves on her arms.
Sally's eyes were wide with excitement at this development, though she stayed silent. When I closed the rings at each elbow and wrist, tightly binding the gloves to her arms, she closed her eyes and shuddered.
"You may not until I give permission. Is that clear, Sally?"
She nodded, silent, not trusting her voice.
I gently pulled her wrists behind her and fastened the metal rings embedded in the gloves together with tiny hooks. Other hooks were in the seams of the gloves and I joined and locked them one by one, until her forearms were touching from elbow to wrist behind her back. The final connection was at the level of the metal rings just above her elbows. Sitting on the stool, her chest thrust forward, she held my gaze with her fiery green eyes. Not defiant, but victorious, in a sense. I didn't know what she thought she had won, other than my heart, but there was victory was in her eyes.
I moved around in front of her, and slipped silver heels on her feet. Unlike Janey's four-inch heels, Sally's were outrageous. The heels were six inches, at least, in height and they had a narrowing toe to torture her all night long. Her foot was pointed almost straight down in those shoes. A low moan escaped her as the shoes tightly gripped her feet and were buckled tight with a strap across her instep and another that wrapped tight around her ankle.
Two boxes remained. A large box, and a small one. I leaned over to the bed and picked up the small one. Still in front of her, I got down on one knee. The big moment.
I took a deep breath. "Sally, I love you with all my heart. In all that happened during and since that time when you agreed to marry me, I never formally proposed to you." I placed my folded hands on her stocking-clad thighs, got down on one knee, and looked up at her. "Sally, would you do me the honor of consenting to be my wife?"
There. It was said. She had the option of backing out, saying `No,' crushing me like a bug. Of course, she did have her hands tied behind her back, so at least I figured she wouldn't slap me. My groin was exposed to her feet, though, and with this family...
The silence was unbearable. The heat stifling. I broke out in a sweat. A lump the size of New Jersey and almost as toxic formed in my throat. I think my lower lip trembled.
"Yes."
My heart resumed beating, my lungs filled with sweet air. I cried. Well, just a little.
I beamed, grinned, the proverbial mile-wide, shit- eating grin. "We never talked about rings and stuff, but I noticed you don't wear rings much. I took the liberty of getting you a temporary engagement ring. If you don't like this one, there are other styles..." I opened the box and showed her the heart-shaped diamond I had had designed for her.
She gasped. "Oh! It's gorgeous! Oh, Larry, you shouldn't have. You didn't need to. You know that. I don't need such an expensive stone. Oh, dear..." She suddenly noticed her hands were bound. "Larry? I don't see a setting. Just the stone. How...?"
I took a fine platinum wire ring from the box. Lifting up my hands I gently grasped her left breast. I worked my thumb around the tip until the excitable flesh hardened and swelled up. Grasping the end of the nipple with my thumb and forefinger of one hand I pulled it slightly towards me. It was unnecessary for what I was about to do, but I loved that little flare of her eyes and her nostrils when I did that.
I threaded the wire through the that was already pierced in her left nipple and secured the stone to the wire. The heart shaped stone nestled just below her aroused nipple. It sent shards of light bouncing around the room with each breath she took and with each beat of her heart.
"Oh, my! Larry!" She was speechless. I think she liked it.
I leaned forward to kiss the stone, and the surrounding environment, too. Tears of joy dripped on her breasts. I was glad they had used waterproof make up on her face.
Standing, I helped her to her feet. With her hands bound behind her, she was rather unsteady on the tall heels. I had her walk back and forth across the room to get used to them. By the second time up and back she had mastered them. I had her do a few more laps just so I could see the effect the heels and her bound hands had on her bouncing and her legs and ass as she sashayed up and back in front of me. Her smile told me she had been watching my reaction in the mirror as she walked away. I grinned back and had her do one more lap for good measure. She really threw herself into that one.
I motioned for her to kneel at the foot of the bed. She was now as ready as she was going to be. I needed to get dressed, however.
She watched with interest as I dressed in my tuxedo. She raised her eyebrow when I omitted my normal boxers, but I ignored her unspoken questions with a pained look of innocence. She stuck out her tongue then licked her lips. For a minute I wondered if she knew what I had planned. Tough. I wasn't going to change it now. I finished getting ready for my date with Janey. It felt strange to be primping for one female in the presence of another.
Sally's last box was on the bed. We both stared at it, the final preparation. I walked over to the bed and opened the box. I lifted out an emerald green velvet cape. I held it out to her and she got up and walked over to me, turning her back to me just as she approached. I settled the cape over her shoulders.
The cape fastened at the neck with a silver brooch. The two front flaps had a series of discreet clasps that kept the cape securely together. There was enough overlap so that no one was going to get a peepshow through an inopportune gap. The bottom of the cape just cleared the floor, except in the front, where the material was cut away to expose her legs up to her knees. It looked odd, in a fashionable way, but there was a purpose.
"My love, the preparations are complete. You are to remain silent tonight. Not one word. You will be able to enjoy the concert. I will not take that away from you. You will not until I give you specific permission." She kept her head bowed, nodding her understanding of each instruction. I continued.
"My love, do you remember the terms of our bet?"
She nodded.
"That will be your position at anytime we are out of the public eye." I heard a gasp.
I had had my trousers modified to replace the zipper with a Velcro strip. I opened the fly and sat on the stool. "Well?" My cock, having suffered through the entire day with no attention, stuck its head out to get a breath of fresh air. It swelled at the sight of her beauty and beckoned her with each heartbeat closer, closer, closer.
Her warm mouth enveloped the head as she knelt between my legs. The cutout of the cape material in the front let her get up and down on her knees without the danger of becoming entangled in the excess cloth.
I reached down to stroke her golden hair. It was time for the bombshells.
"Janey will be joining us shortly. You will not move from your task when she enters. Tonight, I am Janey's date. You are going to be an accessory, my slave." I fought hard not to soften that word with an expression of my love, a reassurance to her, to me. "You will walk behind us when we move in public. When we are in public, you will act normally, head raised, eyes up, but you will remain silent in the presence of anyone other than the three of us. I will not tolerate your humiliation in the presence of strangers. Is that very clear?"
I felt the slightest nod through my fingers in her hair. She had not moved once, but I had sensed the tightening of her muscles as she strained to control herself.
"In the event Janey should need you, I have provided a quick release mechanism on the gloves. If you will feel with your left index finger along the ball of the left thumb, you will feel a slight bump in the material. Pressing firmly on that bump will release your arms, and you may attend to Janey. She is our first priority, even more important than this. Understood?
"Any infraction, however small, will result in punishment. That punishment will be severe." I let the silence build after that statement. It hung there like a sledgehammer until Janey strolled elegantly into the room.
"Hi, guys. Ready to...oops! Sorry! I'll come back..."
"Stop! It's all right, Janey, come on in."
She gave me a funny look, going back and forth between her my cock and me.
"I was just explaining to your what this evening was going to be like. If you can accept her going along as a silent consort, we will continue. You are to ignore her unless you need her. OK?"
Janey was still for a minute, looking to her link with her mom. She smiled. "Cool! She's happy. OK. Let's go."
"One more thing, were you able to wear everything?"
She gave me a disgusted look. "Yes, Daddy. And some of the jewelry was very, very personal." She shifted her hips as she spoke, indicating some discomfort in her groin.
"Is everything all right? Are you in pain, hurting?"
"Nooo! It's just not every date that has you insert a plastic tube up your butt before you go out. Geeze, Dad!" She giggled, the little emerging. "I'm fine. Let's go. I heard a limo arrive just as I was coming down the hall.
I tapped Sally on the chin with a feather touch and she rose to her feet gracefully, without assistance. With her taller heels, she towered over Janey, but her eyes remained firmly downcast.
"Oh, Janey, Honey you look absolutely beautiful. I hope you like the dress."
"God, Dad. I feel like a star. Thank you so much for today. You made me feel special."
"The night is just beginning. And when we're in public, you should probably call me `Larry.' Some of them might think something is going on between us."
"Well, isn't there something going on?" She still thought tonight was going to be all hers.
"What? On a first date? No way, lady." As we laughed, I gathered her elbow in my arm and guided her out of the room. I didn't look back to see if Sally would follow. She had her instructions.
At the entry hallway, I had one more surprise for Janey. I slipped the white ermine stole from the small table standing there and put it around her shoulders. The soft fur of the innocent rubbed against her cheeks as she held it to her tightly. I saw the pain in her eyes as she realized the sacrifice the donors of the fur had made. It made her appreciation of the wrap all that more precious.
The limo was waiting, the liveried driver standing by the rear door. She had been well briefed on the timing and the routes to take, both going to the opera house and returning home. She snapped to attention as we exited the house and held the rear door open for us. I helped Janey into the car. She slid over to the middle of the seat. I got in next and sat on the left side.
I did not offer to assist Sally. It was difficult to navigate without having her arms free to help her keep her balance, and the high heels didn't help. To say I was concerned would be an understatement. I was ready to leap to her aid. I just prayed the driver remembered to be ready to catch her if she fell backwards. I didn't want her to smash her head on the pavement. It would have put a kind of damper on the evening...
I shouldn't have worried. Sally gracefully entered the rear compartment and settled lightly on the seat behind the driver. Her head remained bowed, but I did see a slight sheen of moisture on her upper lip. I took my pocket-handkerchief, leaned forward and patted her lip lightly. My fingers lingered on the smooth skin of her face.
Settling back in the seat of the car, I noticed with pleasure that the windows were darkened, giving us complete privacy. The barrier between the driver's compartment and ours was opaque. I had the override switch. It would stay up. Seeing we were invisible to the outside world, I reached down and opened my pants, allowing my soft cock to roll out.
"Dad! Can't you wait? Geeze!" Janey stared at the soft tube then started to reach for it.
"Sorry, kiddo. That's not for you. First date, remember? You wouldn't want me to have to worry about you when you start dating your own age now, would you?"
"Well, no. But, I mean, like, it's not like I haven't seen it before and all. I just thought... Hey, how come she gets to have it? That's not fair!"
Sally had knelt between my legs and had captured the head of my cock in her mouth. I was gritting my teeth to keep it soft, but with her phenomenal mouth, it was a loosing battle. She slowly raised herself up to keep just the head in her mouth as I swelled to full hardness. I caressed her hair absently as she kept her place.
Janey and I maintained a light banter on the 45-minute drive to the gala. She tried to ignore her mother, but her eyes would frequently drift down to watch the still figure holding my cock in her mouth. I figured it was time for a distraction.
I reached into my pocket and fingered the remote the Rosen's had provided. The devices they had sent over last week were advanced from what they had used before. The earrings were tuned to Janey's brainwaves. The remote could be used to stimulate just a single area, such as her ears or could hit other areas, as well. I had it turned so that just her ears would be sensitized. I dialed it to a low level and switched it on.
She didn't show any visible signs of noticing anything different. She had been staring out the far window at a view of the river. I lifted my hand and pulled her by the shoulder over closer to me. Smiling, she looked up at me expectantly. I leaned down and lightly blew a stream of warm, moist air so that it barely touched her ear. I watched the tiny cilia wave slightly as the wind moved them.
Janey stiffened in my grasp then shuddered. A low moan escaped her lips and her hand, which had been resting on my thigh, dug in with all five freshly manicured nails.
I blew past it again with the same response. She let her head fall back on my shoulder and just before her eyelids closed, I saw her eyes rolling back in her head. I barely touched her other ear with my finger. My hand hovered just over her shoulder, my arm trapped by her head.
Janey jolted from the soft touch of my finger, actually bouncing out of the seat. She stiffened almost straight then relaxed into her orgasm. A strangled cry tore from her as she continued to climax hard. She was so full of sexual tension from the day's activities that it hadn't taken much to set off a tremendous explosion.
As she cried, I felt Sally flinch. She had felt Janey's release through the link. While I didn't mind her sharing it, I did mind the teeth marks she left on my cock when she winced. I reached down and lifted her head off my cock. With one finger under her chin, I lifted her eyes to mine.
"That's one," was all I said.
She nodded her acknowledgement of the infraction, understanding and accepting her pending punishment.
I kept Janey in a constant state of climax for the remaining 20 minutes of the trip. The driver flashed the lights briefly to indicate two minutes to arrival. I tapped Sally on the top of the head to indicate she was to retake her seat. I turned the intensity of the signal to Janey's ears down a bit. She had relieved a lot of tension, but I wanted to build her back up through the concert for the ride home. I initiated the signals to the devices covering her breasts. I kept these signals low, as I didn't want her staggering through the lobby of the opera house.
The driver opened the rear door, handed out Janey, saluted me, and waited for Sally to get out. She had been instructed not to help Sally, unless she was falling. I noticed she was alert for any trouble, and I turned my attention to the crowd of fellow concert- goers. It was the usual crowd of the rich, the almost rich and the wannabes. I kept an eye out for familiar faces, and for anyone who looked like they were heading towards us, especially those who might want to speak with Sally.
Janey recognized several of her High School friends. All were dressed to be seen, but they looked absolutely juvenile next to her. She introduced me as her `Dad' to those who were confident enough to come over to speak with her. Several of my acquaintances ventured closer to get a better look at Janey. More than a few raised a questioning eyebrow, which I returned with an innocent smile. I introduced Janey as the of my fianc‚ to a couple of them. Their disbelief was obvious.
I was curious to know what Sally was doing to avoid conversation. I caught her reflection in a shining brass ornament. Her head was bowed so low it was almost parallel to the ground. No wonder no one wanted to speak with her!
I turned around, tipped up her face with a finger under her chin, and said,
"That's two, three and four."
Her eyes widened at the multiple counts. She knew she had displeased me greatly by disobeying. I think she had hoped to escape with one additional count, not three.
Holding her head high, she took a deep breath. I could still see the fear in her eyes, but also resolve. She would not displease me again.
I turned to get Janey and guided her to our box as the lights dimmed in the lobby. Sally followed obediently.
I opened the door to the box and ushered my date inside. Stepping through, I waited until Sally was through, then I closed the door and slid the privacy bolt home. I looked around the box. The re-furbishing had gone better than I had hoped.
About a month ago, the manager of the opera house had called me. He was in a bind, to put it politely. It seems he had promised my season seats to someone who wouldn't take `No' for an answer; someone who apparently could make his life very miserable, as well. The only other seats available for the entire season were in one of the private boxes. He described it to me, and as he went over the features, location, size, etc., I had had the idea for what I had put into play tonight.
The manager had been hoping I would just take the box in a direct exchange for the other three seats. He was flabbergasted when I not only accepted, but insisted on paying full price for this season and the following four seasons as well. That type of plan elevated me to a special guest of the opera, not to mention an immediate personal friend of the manager. One of the benefits of that status was that if I wanted to be left alone, no one would be barging in on us. Hence, the privacy bolt on the inside of the door. Mine was currently the only box with that feature.
One other feature I had insisted on, which I saw had been implemented, was that our seats were not visible from any spot in the house, nor from the stage. The manager had accomplished that by moving our seats slightly back into the interior of the box and by slightly raising the height of the railing across the front of our box. Now I understood why he had asked the height of the shortest person. Seated, Janey could just see comfortably over the top of the railing. He had also extended the sidewalls of the box to prevent anyone from peeking around from one of the adjacent boxes.
The intermission refreshments were waiting in the back on a small table. The box looked almost empty, as I had specified only two seats and a prayer rail, the padded kneeling benches found in some liturgical orthodox churches. To his credit, he had not asked a single question about the arrangements.
Janey was giddy with the excitement of the opening sounds of the orchestra, rushing to the rail and looking out over the audience. I noticed her nipples were clearly visible, excited by the stimulus of the Rosen's devices. Feeling mischievous, I turned the signals to both sets of the devices up a little, and then goosed the output with the pulse button. I saw her hands grip the railing tightly and her knees buckled slightly as she sagged against the railing. She didn't make a sound, though.
Sally, standing behind me sagged as well, leaning into my back heavily. I turned to her.
"Did you just cum?"
She nodded.
"That's five. My love, is the link with Janey too strong for you? I can dampen it for you if you wish."
Again she nodded, but only after thinking about it. Being linked with Janey was her normal state. But neither woman was in a normal state tonight. Both were filled with sexual tension. Janey was getting relief, in a matter of speaking, but Sally was not. In fact, by sharing Janey's `relief,' Sally's sexual tensions were climbing higher. She would not be able to take much more without completely losing it. So she elected to let me try to block the link, like I had done that one time after our week of celibacy.
I had been doing some research on paranormal topics, brain waves, meditation, and stuff like that. I had needed to learn not only about what was going on, but how to control it. Some of the most obscure stuff had been the most helpful. I had read about how to focus on a of what I wanted to do, like I had pictured a fist squeezing my cock to delay myself from ejaculating that night. It had also been suggested not to specific things attached or connected to people, as that could severely harm them if one possessed the power of telekinesis. We had been lucky that time that I had only tried to delay, not prevent it altogether. Because I was touching Sally at the time, she had been affected as well, and, through the link, so had Janey.
This time I focused on a one-way mirror, the reflective side toward Janey, the transparent side towards Sally. The `mirror' should not affect Janey's perception of Sally, but Sally would not feel Janey's releases. It was the best I could do on short notice.
Janey came back to her chair, a wary look on her face. She had figured out I had something to do with the erotic feelings around her tits, but her ears were new to her. I think she had at first assumed that because her hair was up and they were exposed that they were more sensitive, but she wasn't dumb. Finally she asked.
"Dad, are you doing that to me?"
I grinned at her. "Uh-huh. Do you want me to stop?"
"Hell, no! But you could give a a chance to catch her breath, OK?"
"OK." I waited a heartbeat. "Quick! Take a breath."
She giggled. I hit the pulse button, and the giggling dissolved into a low moan. She sagged into her chair and leaned over on my shoulder.
I leaned over and kissed her gently. "I wasn't joking, kiddo. This will be a night you will remember for a long time. Forever, I hope. Just hang on and enjoy the ride. If it gets to be too much, take off the earrings and I will stop. Fair enough?"
She reached up and grabbed my tie, using it to pull my face down to hers. "Fair enough, but one of these days I'll get you back."
"I can't wait." I grinned evilly as I turned the intensity up another notch, and activated the lower devices as well to a low setting. With all devices going, she was in a constant state of arousal, crashing over the edge, climbing out just to teeter precariously for a minute and then crashing back over. Her shudders were spaced about 3-5 minutes apart. She was going to have a long concert. It would be one she would always remember, but I doubted if she would remember the music.
I looked up to see Sally looking closely at Janey's quaking frame. I admired her restraint. Her normal means of contact with her was blunted and now it appeared as if she was having fits. I focused on the mirror and made it not quite as effective. I had focused on a total reflection of Janey's feelings. Now I focused on letting the shadows and vague shapes come through.
Sally jolted as the first vague feelings hit her, and I dampened it down a little. I still needed a lot of practice fine-tuning this thing. Janey was going to be climbing a lot higher, later tonight, and I didn't want to overload Sally. The look of concern eased from Sally's face. Just before she cast her eyes back down, she looked at my face. I smiled. She paled, thinking she had displeased me.
"My love, she is our first priority. I had cut you off too well, and you couldn't tell if she was OK or ill. You were concerned. I am pleased, by both your behavior and your restraint. The count now stands at four."
She lowered her eyes, a pleased look in them. She had felt a little of Janey's ecstasy and was thankful that she didn't have to share the whole force of the link, given the restrictions of her servitude for the evening. She would have ridden the waves of her daughter's orgasms to her own climaxes. She knew the punishment I had in mind would be severe, but she still would not have been able to control herself. Now she could.
She moved to kneel between my legs, to assume her position. I stopped her and motioned for her to kneel at the side of my chair on the kneeling bench. I grasped her by the braid in her hair and pulled gently, until her head was upright.
"This is a special performance of your favorite pieces. Enjoy."
I kept my hand on the back of her neck, but released her braid from my grasp. I mindlessly traced the edges of the tight collar with the tips of my fingers, and traced the patterns of the tiny hairs up and down her neck. I had been focusing on maintaining the mental block for her, keeping Janey on edge, and listening to the final preparations and opening remarks of the concert. I wasn't paying much attention to what I was doing or to Sally until I felt the trembling and heard the soft sob.
In a single move I settled Janey into her chair and was on my knees in front of my lover.
"Sally, what's wrong? Are you OK? Talk to me!"
"Oh, Master! I am not worthy of the attention you pay me. I have displeased you, and still you touch me with gentleness and love. I have earned my punishment and your displeasure, not your tenderness."
"Ah. Yes. I need to make something clear to you," I paused for effect, "slave."
Her head jerked up, the fear in her eyes visible.
Chapter 25
At the intermission, I turned Janey's stimulators down, more so that she could help Sally to the Ladies Room than to give her a break. I fully intended for her to be in a constant state of arousal for the remainder of the evening. It promised to be most entertaining, if not exactly fulfilling for me. I was beginning to get a certain - some might say perverse - satisfaction from the constant arousal in the two women.
They returned from the obligatory visit without incident. I indicated to Janey to bring a plate with a selection of the refreshments from the buffet and a single glass of champagne. The food had been artistically laid out by the Opera House staff prior to our arrival. Looking next at Sally, I simply pointed to the kneeling bench. Keeping her head bowed, she moved gracefully to my side and knelt down. I couldn't help but notice her calm demeanor and that a satisfied smile kept playing with the corners of her mouth.
I placed a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to meet mine.
"Are you happy, my love?"
"Oh, YES, Master!"
"That pleases me." I smiled at her warmly. Then, just as I was releasing her chin, I quietly asked, "By the way, how many times did you in the ladies room with Janey?" I had detected a more than faint odor of sex wafting on her currents as she had come over to me. The offhand question was rewarded with a look of sheer panic on her face; that deer in the headlights look. Caught! She blushed a deep scarlet, and turned her face from mine in shame.
"That's five, my love. Do not make me give you more."
"Yes, Master."
I was silent for a moment, reflecting. "Am I really, Sally?
"Really what Master?" She was confused by how I addressed her with her name. Normally, I use `my love' to address her when she was a Sub.
"Your `Master'?"
She didn't answer for a while. When she did it was with her head bowed completely down, her chin resting on her chest. The jeweled collar must have been choking her.
"To be completely honest, I don't know. Sometimes, when you are focused, you are my Master. But other times I sense you are unsure or defocused. You try to cover for your uncertainty by pretending this is not serious. When you are like that, then it is hard for me to think of you as my Master. Uncertainty is dangerous in a Master.
"As much as I desire to do so, I cannot commit to you - as a slave - when you are unsure. You know I am committed to you as a lover, even as your future wife. But I cannot commit myself, my will to you when..." She looked me directly in the eye as she spoke that last part. She was not being cruel. She was, in a way, begging me to take this seriously, to be the total Master she could commit to.
"Forgive me for speaking so openly, but you asked."
I was quiet, shamed by my own indecision. I had sensed the same things, but didn't know what to do. No, that's not true. I did know. I needed to take this change in our relationship seriously, attack it the same way I did a business problem. Half the time I was feeling my way, unsure of myself. So I played it light, like a game. But this was not a game to her. I would have to get serious about this, and soon.
"Sally, thank you. I confess I have been feeling the same thing, but I didn't... No. No excuses." I frowned at her, then made a decision.
"Slave! Do not address me as `Master' until I am your Master." She looked up at me, startled at my use of `slave' to address her. "You may use `Sir' until then."
She nodded. She understood it was not an option. She also understood that I intended to become a true Master to her.
"Yes, Ma... Sir. Thank you for understanding."
I nodded curtly. Taking the glass of champagne from the side table where Janey had placed it, I offered my lover a sip. She drank gratefully. I pointed to each one of the selections of delicacies Janey had brought over, one at a time. She finally nodded her head at a particularly small one. I held it for her to bite and she deftly nibbled at it until it was gone, then cleaned my fingers with her tongue. I grinned to myself as I thought of how she had made a meal of that tidbit. I could have wolfed it down in one bite with six others just like it. Sally took another sip of wine then refused all offers for more.
As the orchestra was still out, I leaned back, opened the Velcro fly of my trousers and let the head of my soft cock slip out.
"Slave, where is your place?" I asked her quietly.
Once again I saw a faint grin teasing her luscious lips as she repositioned herself over my lap and swooped down to claim her prize.
With Sally taken care of, momentarily, anyway, I turned my attention to my `date.' She had been taking extraordinary pains to ignore Sally and me during our little discussion, which clearly meant that she had been watching and listening to everything. To take her mind off us, I cranked up all of her external stimulators to full, even the one in her ass. I also activated the implanted neuro-chemical reservoirs in her system to their lowest level, knowing that they would release tiny amounts of the sexual enhancer into her system. She would now orgasm at the slightest touch. Hell, if she even thought about it, she would cum.
I saw her blush as the sensations kicked in, then sag slightly as the combination of the stimulators and the chemicals pushed her over the edge almost immediately. She wasn't going to climb back out of this for a while. Wild-eyed, she staggered stiff-limbed back to her chair beside me. She sort of oozed into her seat, a puddle of quivering teenaged flesh. Her breathing was ragged.
"Comfy?" I asked her in a light tone.
She looked back up at me with a languid expression, her eyes unfocused and her mouth open. Her breath, when she could catch it, was in short gasps; most unladylike, but incredibly appealing. I thought I detected a slight nod in answer to my question, but it could have been another spasm passing through her.
I tipped her head over onto my shoulder and sat back to wait for the second half of the concert. About a minute later I felt a warm light touch on my leg. Janey had put her hand there, right below her mother's face. As Janey climaxed, her hand squeezed my leg, and gradually moved towards my iron shaft. When her fingertips finally grazed the velvety skin, she stopped moving any closer. She seemed content with just that light contact. Her sharp fingernails moved lazily though my thatch of curly pubic hairs, digging in from time to time as she crashed through another climax.
Her watched this from above, her mouth never moving off of the head of my cock. It must have been strange for her, watching her in the throes of orgasm after orgasm and not being able to sense it. I still had the damper on their link, keeping their sensations apart.
Even when the music started, Sally stayed in place. I didn't urge her away this time. This part of the program was not the composer's best work nor were they Sally's favorites, and the conductor's interpretations left me a little cold. And to be honest, I don't think any of us was paying much attention to the music.
Somehow, I managed to get both of them into the limo at the end of the concert. Janey's legs were a little wobbly, but she pulled herself together to get through the dwindling crowd. She didn't talk to anyone and she looked a bit flushed. I held her close to me, supporting her through the crowd. She leaned heavily until we stepped outside. The cool night air seemed to revive her. Sally followed obediently behind me, as ordered.
The limo driver moved smoothly up to the curb as we emerged from the gaily-lit doors of the Opera House. She hopped out and opened the rear door, timing it so that we didn't even have to slow down. Just down the stairs and into the limo. She was good.
As we settled into the rear seats, I felt my fly being opened by two timid hands. Since Sally was still bound with her arms behind her, that could only mean that Janey was doing some exploring. I glanced at Sally, who was just getting to her knees in front of me. I motioned with my head for her to get up and sit beside me on the other side away from Janey. She did so without hesitation.
After Sally was seated, I put my arm around her shoulders and pulled her into me. I nuzzled my nose into her hair and breathed in deeply. I loved the smell of her hair. I brushed by lips softly along the top of her head. I hoped she wouldn't notice this apparent weakness on my part, but I found it hard not to express my love for her in `soft' ways. I was still learning, and hadn't yet realized it was the attitude, not the action.
With a deep sigh of satisfaction, Sally accepted my affectionate gesture. She tucked her legs up under her, and snuggled into my side. I slipped my hand through the opening of her cape and captured a firm tit. She turned her face to my chest.
"Please, Sir. I will if you do that. You know that. You are very skilled at arousing this slave. I cannot help myself. Forgive my weakness."
I carefully captured the stiff nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I looked her right in the eye.
"Slave, you have my permission to three times before we get home. I will not stop playing with your tits until we arrive, and I know just how sensitive they are and how horny you are right now. I will do my utmost to make you as often as I can. If you succeed in limiting your pleasure to three climaxes, you may choose your own punishment for your indiscretions tonight. You will receive only the five strokes, which you will count aloud for me. And then thank me for. If you do not succeed, the number will be doubled, and I will choose the punishment."
She gasped as I squeezed her nipple hard as I ended. It must have taken a supreme effort on her part to stifle that orgasm, but she did not cum. The driver started the limo, and the vibrations from the road added to her torment. I teased the firm flesh in my hand unmercifully. Sally did not draw away from me or resist my marauding hand. She remained quiet, her breathing very controlled.
Janey had begun her exploration of my now engorged prick as I was dealing with her Mom. Her hot little hands grasped the base of shaft. She could not encircle it with one hand.
"Daddy?" Her voice was small, much like I imagine it was when she was six years old. "Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, Honey. What do you want to know?"
"Are most this big?" She lifted my swollen organ in her tiny hands and waved it a little to indicate what she was referring to.
I laughed quietly. This was going to be an interesting ride home. "I'm not sure, but I don't think so. But the size of a man's penis is not really that important between two people who love each other. A does not need a to bring pleasure to a woman."
"Does it when you stick it in down there?"
"The first time a woman is penetrated usually hurts her, at least a little. But even after that, a small one can the woman if she isn't prepared or ready or willing."
Janey had her own experience with that. She knew it could hurt, even a small one. She was quiet, softly stroking her fingers up and down.
"Some of the at school were talking about blow jobs, putting their boyfriend's thingy in their mouth and then on it. Is that what has been doing tonight?"
"Not exactly." I eased off on my tit-torture of Sally as I reflected on some of the great oral passions we had experienced in the past. "Your and I had a bet once that she could make me in a minute or less just by holding the head of my cock in her mouth. To win the bet, she couldn't move, or suck, or hum or anything. Just hold it. She was right and she won the bet, the first time. I won the second time. I won't bet with her like that again. I'm afraid of what I would lose next time."
I smiled down at my lover. I placed a tender kiss on her forehead. She closed her eyes and a small tear of happiness trickled down her cheek from the corner of one eye. Sally sighed as I attacked her sensitive nipple once more, this time caressing it to its full turgid height, then flicking it rapidly with the tip of my finger. I continued talking to Janey.
"Now, I have her do it that way, just holding the head in her mouth, more as a reminder. Giving a oral pleasure is one of the most intimate acts a woman can do for a man. The pleasure almost always goes just one way with this act, from the woman to the man. And the very position the woman is in, kneeling, is a position of servitude. But other than that, it just feels great to have her mouth there."
"Do you ever let her move, I mean, does she still give you blow jobs?"
"Janey, you should know by now, I don't `let' you mother do anything. She does whatever she wants, whenever she wants, and I willingly accept her gifts to me. By the way, I also have pretty much the same freedom with her, to do what I want, when I want. And she accepts the pleasures I give her. She even accepted my proposal of marriage, eventually.
"So the answer to your question is, `Yes' she still does pleasure me orally. And I do the same for her, too."
"You mean you put your mouth down there, on her?"
"Uh-huh."
"Wow! Doesn't that tickle?"
"Not too much. I trimmed her hair back out of the way so that I..."
"Not you, silly. Her! Doesn't it tickle her?"
"OH! Well, exc-u-u-use me." We both laughed. "Well, I don't think so, but I really don't know. You'll have to ask her. Later. But I do know she never laughed while I was eating her pussy, at least not out loud. She moans a lot, but no laughter."
She was quiet for a bit. Then, "Is a good cock- sucker? Is that the right name for it?"
I chuckled. What a loaded question! How did women always manage to ask questions that made you compare them to each other? I was just about ready to answer her, truthfully, when Janey interrupted. She had sensed my quandary.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll rephrase the question. Do you like the way gives head? Does she have a good technique?"
This time I laughed aloud. "First, the name `cock- sucker' has kind of a bad taste to it. I wouldn't call you or her that, no matter what. Second, your is the absolute best, not that I have that much to compare it to." I felt Sally shaking as I held her. She was laughing, not having an orgasm.
"Third, it is not her technique that makes her the best, although she is fantastic that way too. What makes your so special is her attitude. She wants to give me pleasure that way. It is her gift. I have never asked her to do it."
My voice kind of tapered off at the end. Suddenly, a light went off in my head. Attitude, not actions. Attitude, not techniques. I needed a fucking attitude adjustment. Fast.
Janey was thinking about what I had said, too. As she was thinking, her head lowered toward my prick. She continued her inspection from point-blank range. Her inquisitive fingers pressed against the spongy head. A clear drop of pre-cum grew at the slit at the top.
"What does it taste like, you know, that stuff that spurts out?"
"I, uh, I don't know."
"Didn't you, you know, that time in the dungeon?"
"No." I cast about for a way to continue, "I failed my Mistress that time."
She looked up at me, her face a question mark. I explained my comment to her.
"When I was in the dungeon, I gave myself, gave over my will, totally to your Mom. It was the only way I could endure what was going on inside my head. Understand that I did what I did willingly. And I would do it again, if she asked me to. But in my mind, when I was in the dungeon, I came to think of her as `Mistress,' my owner. I still think of her in that way when I remember what happened. She is my Mistress even now, in many ways.
"When I was in the dungeon, at the end, I only tasted the clear discharge a makes at the beginning, the pre-cum, at that time. All I can tell you about that stuff is that it tasted `slippery', salty. But sometimes, after your takes me in her mouth, we will kiss, and I can detect a different taste that I assume is a little of what I taste like. It isn't awful or foul tasting or anything, but it is different. Tangy, I guess."
"Oh. You don't like to talk about that time she did all that stuff, do you?"
"It's OK, Honey. I'm just not exactly sure what happened or how I feel about it sometimes. I do know that a lot of good changes came out of that experience."
"So, am I supposed to that white stuff? Some of the thought that would be gross, but they hadn't done it, so they didn't know. Doesn't a guy out that hole, too?"
I played with the loose hairs on the back of her neck, careful to not put any downward pressure on her head. "Janey, Honey, you're not even supposed to have a cock in your mouth unless you want it there. It should always be your choice. Never let a guy try to tell you he will be injured if he doesn't get relief. It doesn't work that way.
"Second, it's up to you what you do with it. Spit or swallow. It's your choice."
"What does do?"
"Does it matter?"
She thought about that.
"No. Not really."
That seemed to be the end of her questions as she was silent for the rest of the ride. A lot of the content she had already heard from her in their many talks. I know Sally had been very thorough and more explicit than I thought necessary.
I don't know if Janey just wanted a second opinion or a man's perspective. Sally and I agreed in our approach to sex and relationships in terms of giving and not taking, of it being a shared experience, not one forcing or coercing the other. I felt confident I had not contradicted anything Sally may have told her.
Janey seemed content to hold and fondle my cock, gaining a sense of its size, hardness, and strength. One time she leaned forward and touched the tip of her dainty tongue to the drop of pre-cum that had collected at the pee-slit. After she had tasted that, she leaned her head back on my stomach, apparently deep in thought. I felt her shudder as the stimulators pushed her over the edge of one climax after the other with regularity. I was amazed she had been able to hold a coherent conversation with all that shakin' going on.
We rode the rest of the way home without incident, in silence.
We disembarked from the limo, and I walked Janey to the front door. As this was still our first `date,' I took her in my arms and gave her a good night kiss on the porch in front of Sally. Janey returned the kiss and sucked in my tongue greedily. That simple good night kiss ended up leaving us both a little breathless. Her enthusiasm was highly erotic.
I slipped my hand into my coat pocket and turned her stimulators off. She gave a little whimper.
"Well, I guess the date is over. Right, Dad?" She almost sounded disappointed.
"Yes."
She gave me another big hug. "Thank you. I had a good time. You made me feel very special tonight. Good night!"
With that, she gave me a chaste peck on the cheek and let herself into the house. The door shut, leaving Sally and me standing in the cool night air. I turned to Sally.
"So, slave. How many times did you on the way home? I didn't feel any. Am I loosing my touch?"
She looked up at me, trembling. "None, Sir. But I had cum three times in the ladies room with Janey without your permission. How did you know, Sir?"
It had been a damn lucky guess. I just smiled a knowing smile at her. I think I almost fooled her.
"Anyway, since I had three times and you allowed me three, I figured I couldn't allow myself any more, Sir."
I was not pleased with her response, but I had promised her that she could choose her punishment. I was in unfamiliar territory, and I think I overplayed the part a bit. It didn't feel natural, but it was what I thought a displeased master would act like. I was wrong.
I reached out to the clasps of her cape. I undid them roughly, one by one, and jerked the cape off her shoulders, exposing her naked body to the night air. The nearest neighbor was 2 miles away, and the porch was secluded. But it was still a shock to her to be exposed outside of the house, outdoors. I towered over her, backing her up against the front door. My eyes were angry, and my tone harsh.
"First, slave, you don't think. You don't figure. You do what I tell you, and only that. I gave you permission to come three times in the car. You missed out on that pleasure, slave. I already knew you had cum without permission and you are going to be punished for that.
"Second, by refusing to for me, you took away from me the pleasure of pleasuring you, of bringing you to a sweet release. You resisted my touches, you ignored my commands, my caresses, squeezes and pinches. If you do not wish my tender touches, you will get painful ones instead.
"Third," and I softened, considerably, "I love you. Deeply. Totally. For ever and ever." I kissed her trembling lips. I wanted to ravish her then and there, to fuck her on the porch. It was one of the few places in her house we hadn't done it. But her fear was a good indication it probably wasn't a good time. She wasn't the only one frightened. We were on the threshold of a new darkness. I didn't know if the darkness contained an abyss or if it was just another room in the house of our relationship. I took her in my arms as I continued.
"Slave, my love, I promised you a punishment. I also promised you that you could choose it. Here is the key to the dungeon. Go get something for me to use, then come back to the bedroom and we will continue."
I turned her around and set her arms free. She would need them to get into the dungeon. We stood still for a while as I massaged some feeling back into her stiff upper limbs. When she was able to roll her shoulders without grunting in pain, I opened the door and gave her fanny a good smack to get her moving. She literally ran into the house in her high heels, and all the way to the basement. I thought I heard a sob a she turned the first corner and went out of sight, but I couldn't tell.
I made my way to our room, lost in thought. I was confused, overwhelmed by the events of the evening with Sally. They hadn't gone the way I had anticipated. I was sitting on the edge of the bed when Janey called out from the hallway.
"Dad, the date is officially over, right?"
"Yes, Honey. We said `Good Night' and everything. Why do you ask?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to give you the impression I do this on a `first' date."
With that, she slid, - oozed is a better term - around the corner and into our bedroom. She had removed her cocktail dress and her bra, leaving her in just the wispy panties. She still had on the heels as well. My prick hardened at the sight of her. I took in her swaying as she walked towards the bed. I noticed she was staring at my crotch and that she was licking her lips hungrily. Something made me stifle any protest I should have made.
"Janey, Honey, I hope you never dress like that on any date, other than your wedding night!"
She giggled and shimmied her at me as she came over. "Get real, Dad."
I hoped she was joking. What she did next made me think she wasn't.
She knelt down in front of my feet. She placed her hands on my knees and spread them, making room for her to shuffle in closer. I could feel the scalding heat of her as they pressed into my inner thighs. Her stiffened nipples felt as if they would rip the fabric of my slacks.
She deftly opened my fly with a quick tug. My iron hard prick sprang out, almost hitting her in the face. Without a word, without hesitation, she opened her mouth wide and swallowed as much of that iron shaft as she could.
Like most beginners, she tried to take too much too soon. Unlike most beginners, Janey had never accepted failure in anything she tried to do. Her second attempt to the shaft was even more determined. I felt the spongy head of my prick nudging against her tonsils. Again she gagged. And again she came back for more. Six times she tried to me whole. On the seventh, she did.
And she dug her fingernails sharply into the cloth covering my thighs. She reared back her head, gasping and shaking. Janey had just discovered one of the more deviously placed pressure sensitive implants the Rosens had put in. Thank God, she hadn't had a hold on my balls.
"Dad! What in the hell was that?" She was shaken, but definitely not displeased at her discovery.
"That's a little gift from the Drs. Rosen. They told me about it after they were already in. They thought you might enjoy it after they saw the length and size of my equipment."
"Wow!" She caught her breath a minute. "So, how am I doing so far, Dad?"
"Janey, you're doing fine. Outstanding, actually. But remember, it's the attitude, not the technique. Just watch the teeth. I admit you are the first person to ever get that much of my prick in their mouth and down their throat. Not even your had taken that much. But don't tell her, OK? This isn't a competition. Not that I wouldn't mind..."
"Oh, Daddy!" She giggled as she re-captured the fat ruddy head in her mouth. As she began to bob up and down, taking more of the shaft inside with each downward stroke, I realized this was the actualization of a major fantasy for me. I thought she should know.
"Janey, no, don't stop. Just listen. When you first proposed that I be a part of your, uh, sexual education, I immediately got this mental in my head. It was so erotic that I got an erection at a very inappropriate moment and your almost called the whole thing off. She almost kicked me out of the house, for good. Fortunately, she didn't.
"Janey, the that came to my mind was exactly this: You, naked, or nearly so, between my legs, sucking on my cock. You were looking up at me, - Oh, God, Yeah, Honey, just like that - and you moved your head up and down the length of my hard shaft. It was erotic then, but it is nothing compared to the real thing. OH SHIT, BABY! I'M CUMMING!"
I thrust my hips forward, burying my cock head deep into her elastic throat. I spasmed once, twice, three, four, five times. A large gob of pearly white semen surged into her esophagus with each butt-clenching throb. Spent, I sagged back on the bed.
She continued on me until she had the last drop. Then, sliding her up my body, she brought her face up to meet mine. She pressed her lips against my sealed lips. I knew what she had in mind. I opened my eyes and looked directly into hers. She was not demanding I kiss her, only offering me the opportunity. I don't know why, but I kissed her, opening my mouth to hers.
I felt a stringy substance pass from her mouth to mine as she bathed my mouth with her tongue. I tasted myself fully for the first time and didn't gag. It would have ruined the moment.
Janey then proceeded to swab my tonsils and mouth with her tongue, removing as much of the transferred as she could. She pushed herself up on her hands, moving away from my face. She made a big show of swallowing the contents of her mouth. I collapsed back onto bed. I felt her slip my pecker back into my pants and then close the fly.
"Bye, lover," she lilted.
"Bye, sweets. Thank you for your gift. Next time it's your turn."
Her eyes widened at the thought of me eating her out. "Now?" came hopefully
"No. Next time. I'll let you know, don't worry."
She had a pleased smile on her face as she slipped out of the room and made her way back down the hall to her own. Something other than my had passed between us just then. An understanding of sorts.
I was still smiling contentedly when Sally slipped silently back into the room.
That smile froze in place as she handed me a short, stiff crop. I recognized it as the one from Amud's shop. This one could really hurt. I had tried it out against my leg once and the stripe had lasted more than a week, almost as long as my howling did.
But even as her choice of the implement for her punishment chilled me, her next movements numbed me to the bone. She moved silently and surely over to her makeup table and picked up the backless bench she sat on when she did her makeup. She moved the bench to the center of the room.
She knelt with her back to the bench and bent backward over the bench. She reached under the bench with her arms and grasped her ankles with her hands. She was bowed backward over the bench, tense. Her were presented in a most alluring fashion. Had I not had a whip in my hand, I would have taken this as an invitation to tit-fuck her. Even with the whip I considered it seriously.
As it was, I was trembling. I hadn't been this shaky- shit scared since I drove my Dad's car into the lake.
This was it. I raised my arm and took a trial swing in the air. The sounds of the stiff leather whistling through the air terrified me, and I was the one holding the crop! All I could think of was how much this would hurt my lover. It was not so much that I might her, I knew it would do that. It was that I might injure her, do damage. I could not bear to mark her lovely skin. I was torn. I could not bring myself to do this. But I had promised.
I didn't say a word as I stood up and moved to one side. I didn't' trust myself to speak. Sally had her eyes closed, which was just as well, as I was crying like a baby. I made a tentative swat at her upthrust mounds, her chosen targets for this pain. The sound of the crop slapping against that tender flesh sounded like a cannon going off in my head. I almost dropped the crop and ran. But something was sneaking around in the back of my head. I thought I sensed something from her at the exact moment the crop touched her, but I wasn't sure. It was like it came through the crop, talking to me. Sally had said nothing. She didn't even flinch.
I swatted again. Again half-heartedly. Two down, three to go. I thought I just might make it through this without killing her. Then I realized she wasn't' counting the strokes like I had told her to. In frustration, I cried out at her,
"You're supposed to be counting, Damn it!"
She replied in a calm voice. "I will count if you ever strike me, Sir." And then she braced herself, waiting for what she must have known was going to happen. She was trying to make me mad, taunting my weakness. She almost succeeded.
I dropped the tip of the trembling crop so that it just touched her flesh. It wasn't a blow, the end was just resting on her. But the effect on me was electrifying. Suddenly, it was as if I could sense her thoughts. But they weren't really thoughts. It was more as if I could sense her needs, her cravings. I understood she needed to be disciplined. By me. By her master. Not because she was bad. But because I loved her and she had displeased me. Whatever it was that I felt, it also let me know just how hard to bring the crop down. I could sense what she needed, how much pain, and where. It was as if we were one.
I went with the feelings, followed the ethereal urgings. I never knew I raised my arm. The crop came down. Thunder exploded in the silence of the room. It was louder than the gunshot when she had dropped my gun on the bed. The flaming welt it left crossed the tops of both on the soft fleshy middle part.
"One. Thank you, Sir." How she managed not to shout, scream, yell, or holler, I don't know.
CRACK!!
"Two. Thank you, Sir."
Swoosh. CRACK!!
"OH! Three! Th-thank you, Sir."
SwooshCRACK!!
There was a sharp intake of breath this time. I let the tip of the crop rest on her chest, feeling her pain, her exhilaration, her neediness for this.
"F-f-ffffour... Thank you. M-m-mas, S-Sir!"
I let her steel herself for the final blow. I sensed from within her that she knew this one would be the worst, the culmination of all the preceding blows. It was what she needed
When I sensed she was ready, I released my arm to the essence that we had become. I know I was the one holding and moving the whip, but it was as if someone or something else was guiding it, aiming it, and applying the right amount of force. I watched, fascinated, as the crop whistled down and landed, bisecting the other four. Two of them had landed above her erect nipples. That they were erect, fully aroused, struck me as odd. The other two welts were spaced evenly below her turgid nipples. The fifth blow landed directly over those sensitive buds of flesh. She arched her back even tighter than it was in the position she was in.
"FIVE! OH, MY MASTER!" she shouted and fainted dead away.
I rushed to her and picked up my lover, her limp form draping over my arms, tears streaming down my face. Her head and feet hung down on either side. Without banging her head on the door, I carefully rushed her into the bathroom and eased her down into the large bathtub. I climbed in behind her, supporting her head on my shoulder. I started the water with my feet, set the temperature at just shy of scalding, and let the tub fill around us.
The hot water diluted the flood of my tears as I rocked and crooned to my love, swaying gently back and forth as one would with a sick or injured child. I felt as if my heart were breaking. The discipline, the pain she had just accepted far outweighed anything she had done to displease me. I had been insensitive to her needs. I had not taken my responsibilities seriously and I now had injured her.
I looked down through my tears and saw the angry welts that striped her ivory flesh. I attempted to cup them, to massage the pain away, but I couldn't bring myself to even caress that sore flesh. I settled for cupping my hand around them, almost but not touching, sensing the aura of them. I sensed pain, aching, and, surprisingly, relief.
The water rose over our bodies and the automatic shutoff stopped the flow of water into the tub. Her sore were submerged, and floated softly in the steamy water. We lay like that for sometime, allowing the scalding water to soak the pain from her skin. Her breathing evened out, no longer catching in small gasps and sobs. Finally, after an eternity, I felt her stir.
Her first action was to check to see if her collar was still on. Her hand slowly rose, at first I thought to check her breasts. But her hand kept rising, until her fingertips lightly caressed the symbol of her servitude. In all that went on, I had not even thought of taking off the collar. She moved her arms slowly, as if it to move. I could well imagine it would. As she ran her fingers lightly over the sparking necklace, I could feel her contentment grow.
She continued to lay there, her back to my chest. I cannot describe what happened during that time, but I think we became more one than we were two. Our brainwaves synched, something. Her deep contentment spilled over onto me. She wouldn't let me feel guilt anymore. What I had done was my right as her Master.
I didn't pretend to understand. And, typical of a woman, just as I was feeling as if I understood what was going on, she shocked me again.
"I've made you ruin your suit, Master."
"Ssshhh. Quiet. It's OK." Huh? Where in the Hell did that come from? My suit? I couldn't have cared less. I had just about ripped her off, and she's worried about my suit!
She was quiet for a while, then, in almost a whisper. "Thank you, Master."
Feeling is one thing, hearing it is another. Her obvious gratitude was too much for me. I burst out crying, sobbing into the back of her hair. She let me cry myself out.
"Master, may I speak freely?"
"Yes, my love. You know you can always speak freely to me."
She took a deep breath to steady herself and then plunged into a long lecture. I listened.
"Master, I am sorry, but I had to make you me like that. I did it on purpose. I knew that if I didn't force you to do it, you would never do that to me, to whip my tits. You are so careful with me and I know you adore them. I adore your adoration of them. So I choose for you to me there. That is what took me so long in the dungeon. I was not looking forward to the pain of being tit-whipped with a crop. I had to build up my courage to force you to go through with this.
"I also tried to make you angry with me, to make you strike me in anger. I was kind of angry with you, Master. You were not being serious with me. You acted as if we were playing a game. So I intentionally taunted you. I was trying to make you mad.
"If you had struck me in anger, then I would have had a reason to never submit myself to you again, ever. I understood that it would have meant we would eventually be torn apart, as I have this need to submit to my Master. I don't know what it is, but it is a part of me, just as eating or breathing. I don't need it all the time, just occasionally. But it is there, nonetheless.
"Master, you must never let a slave, this slave especially, choose the punishment. For me, your displeasure, even in jest, is too much for me to bear. This slave lives to serve you, for your pleasure alone. Because I had displeased you so greatly, well, that was another reason I had to choose the worst punishment I could imagine for myself. I felt as if I deserved that and more. I thought about what you said on the porch, when you were angry with me. I thought at first you were not being serious again, but there was something else there, too. Like you were trying too hard to be what you thought I would think a Master would be. And what you said, about me stealing your pleasure from you by resisting your arousing touches; that was more true than I think you knew. I almost decided to end this evening, until I remembered you said that. It showed me that you grasped at least some of the basics, that down deep, you just might understand what this was about. I heard what you said to Janey about your time in the dungeon, about submitting to my will.
"Master, when I am your slave that is exactly how I am. I am yours completely. If you treat that lightly, I will be ... I am crushed. I would rather be humiliated, stripped in public, made to perform like an animal, with an animal, even, than be brushed off lightly.
"Master, to be my Master, you do not have to put on an act. Just be who you are. Be sure of what you are. I crave your demands on me, I long to do what you command. But you can still love me as you are accustomed to doing. I adore your touch, whether tender or harsh. I need them both. Your sweet caresses are so honest, so pure that they melt my heart. Your firm hand in disciplining me just now fires my blood. I have never felt so alive.
"Yes, it hurts, but only for the moment. For certain it hurts less than an angry or careless word from you, and for not nearly as long. I will wear these stripes proudly. I earned them, and, more important, they are from my master's hand.
"If you allow it, I wish to show them to Bala on their visit the day after tomorrow. Not to make her jealous, though secretly she will be, but because I am proud of what you are becoming. She had a crush on you, I think, Master. She is very happy with Amud, but your raw power thrills a part of her he cannot touch.
"Master, oh, my Master! I had it all carefully planned out. Forgive this slave for being so presumptuous. I know you told me not to think, but I wanted so much for this to be real for us. I wanted to give you one more chance. And then something happened...
"Master? What happened to you? To us? I taunted you, I felt your sudden anger, and then, all of a sudden, you were in me, in my mind. You filled me, possessed me as no one ever has. You knew what I needed, you understood. I felt the fear flow out of me and out of you, too. I am sorry I made you afraid. Master, were you afraid for me? That I would be hurt? That would be just like you, you know. You are so gentle and kind.
"And then I felt your strength, your tremendous power, your goodness. I felt you release yourself, to let your fear go. Did you feel it, too?
"And then you whipped me, Master. Oh, Master, it was wonderful! I could feel your love beating into me with each searing stroke of the crop. Did you know I came each time you whipped me? Especially the last one. Forgive me, again, but I have never experienced orgasms like that. Perhaps one day you will explain all of the places the good doctors hid their wonderful little toys. You did not give me permission to cum, Master. Perhaps you should punish me again?"
She steeled herself, I could feel her resolve, and then she raised herself up and away from my chest. With a grace that would make a Polar bear envious, she rolled over so that we were facing each other. Without a splash. She pulled her knees up under her and positioned her legs between mine.
With sure hands, she loosened the wet cloth of my fly, and dug out the flaccid length of my cock. She took a deep breath and immersed her face, the entire length into her mouth. Her gentle ministrations produced the predictable effect and the swelling, lengthening shaft eventually forced her face out of the water. She continued bobbing on the shaft, until it had reached its full hardness.
Sally then rose up slightly, lifting her head to look me directly in the eye. We locked gazes. She held my eyes as if in a vice as she took her own hands and cupped her injured breasts. I felt the searing pains she felt as she forced my fierce hardness between her pliant orbs and gave me the tit-fucking I had thought about earlier.
"How? How did you know I was thinking about doing this to you?"
She smiled that vague, mysterious smile women have. Then she let me off the hook.
"I was peeking. I watched you in the mirror. This was really hard on you, wasn't it?"
I nodded, shamed by her tenderness.
"Poor baby. Let make it all better..." She tipped her head down and lightly kissed the head of my cock on the upstroke through her tit-meat. When she looked back at me, she was serious again. The love light never left her eyes as she moved her hands, forcing her striped up and down around her master's staff.
Our eyes never left the others' as she gave me this tender, painful gift, the gift of a slave to her master. To refuse her would have been to crush her needlessly.
I let myself go, released myself into her gift. I reached out, thinking I could ease the searing pain in her breasts. But when I sensed her, I found that she was reveling in her pain, her badge of honor. So instead of taking, I gave to her. I let her feel my pride in her, of my gratitude for her love, for the acknowledgement of the lesson she had taught me. I let her feel the depth of my sorrow, and she drew it out and away from me. She allowed me no sorrow, no regrets for her pain.
When I came, she caught my essence in her mouth, covering the spewing cap, sealing the leaks with her ruby lips.
Before she could it all, I lifted her up to me and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. Her eyes opened in surprise as I shared the remainder of my with her, savoring and then swallowing for the first time the strange-tasting substance. Her single raised eyebrow queried me for a reason for this sudden change. I just smiled at her and kissed her again, softly.
We lay together like that for a long time, finally emerging with prune-like wrinkles all over.
Sally insisted on wearing her collar to bed that night. For a slave, she was very demanding sexually, more so than when she was not subservient. She was not satisfied until I had into every orifice, crevice, crack and cavity of her body. She discovered the same implants deep in her throat that Janey had discovered earlier in the evening. She found others even I hadn't known about. At least, I think they were implants. Might it have been love? When she was covered from her perky nose to her sexy toes in a sticky coat of my cum, only then did she lie quietly beside me.
I listened to her rhythmic breathing, wondering at this intricate woman and the direction our lives were now headed. I wondered at the unknown destination, as well. I felt as if we had crossed a major hurdle tonight, but I knew that several more remained. My mind, although relaxed, went over and over the events that had brought us to this point, reviewing and remembering. I don't remember falling asleep.
We slept late, well into the next afternoon.
Chapter 26
I woke up slowly the next morning to the soft whispers between a and daughter. It had been a taxing night, both physically and mentally. My head still felt as if it was a turned inside out, so I decided to just lie there with my eyes closed. I drifted in and out of consciousness as the two women in my life shared confidences. I didn't feel as if I was eavesdropping, as they knew I was lying right there between them.
I cracked one eye and peeked out at the cruel, bright world. Sally and Janey were both kneeling at about where my knees were. They were facing each other, holding hands across my legs in an almost romantic gesture. Two goddesses, and nude, except for a skimpy bikini bottom on Janey.
I reached out with my newly discovered mental talent and tried to sense the moods of the two. I didn't want to be crude or heavy-handed and barge right in. I just tried to get as close to them as I could. It took a great effort to use a soft touch. Heavy-handed is easier. Shoot first, the Hell with the questions. Gradually, I was able to feel that Sally was very content. I wasn't sure, though, as it was like tasting colors. I was still trying to learn what meant what. What I thought she felt, though, was contentment.
Janey's picture, or aura, was more turbulent, with brighter, hungrier colors; nothing serious that I could sense, but somewhat unfulfilled. After the unrequited arousal she had gone through last night, I assumed she was just horny. I was surprised she hadn't used her fingers or something phallic on herself, but somehow I knew she hadn't. She continued to talk to her Mom. Sally, I think, had sensed that I was awake by now, although I hadn't touched her mind, or moved. There was so much I had to learn about this stuff. Too, she was an incredibly perceptive woman.
"You're still wearing the collar. Wouldn't he let you take it off?"
"It was the other way around. I wouldn't let him remove it."
"Doesn't it bother you? It looks kind of tight."
"No. I don't mind. In fact, I want to wear it all the time now. Last night was, well, last night he became my Master. Janey, I don't know if you will ever understand, but if you could only have one thing in life, my wish for you, with all my heart, is that you find that one special man. That guy you can love as I love my Master. When it all comes down to the bottom line in life, nothing else matters.
"Didn't he beat you last night?" I could sense Janey was really uncomfortable about what had happened. The last time her had gotten involved in this stuff, it had just about destroyed both of them.
"Janey, shame on you! You know what happened. You heard it, and you sensed it. You enjoyed it, too, if I remember right. No?"
"Well, yeah, kind of. But those look like they would really hurt. Would you let him do it again?"
"No. I would not `let' him. I would, no I will, beg him to do it again, though. As often as he desires."
"Why?"
"Because he is my Master. I am his, to love, to whip, even to sell, if he desires."
"You're not serious. Sell?"
"Yes, he has that option. But if I know my Master, he would not even consider that. He would die first."
"Did he enjoy punishing you? I mean, did he get a, you know, a, uh..."
"Hard-on? Woody? Stiffy? Erection?"
"Yeah. One of those."
"Janey. Get used to seeing it. Get used to talking about sex, too. It's going to be a big part of our lives, yours included. I don't know what he has planned for you, but I trust him with you, that he will do the right thing. He is so tender and sweet. He was like a little last night who thought he had accidentally his new puppy. He cried. He is trying so hard to please me. I kind of made him squirm.
"But the answer to your question is `No,' he didn't get excited when he was punishing me. He only got hard when I took him in my mouth. I just about drowned doing it, too." She looked hard at Janey. "By the way, you wouldn't have had anything to do with him being soft, would you? I thought I tasted something strange on him."
"He didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what? Did he fuck you? It didn't quite taste like that."
"If he didn't tell you, maybe he doesn't want you to know."
"Janey, I'm your mother. Besides, we don't talk about you all the time, you know. Now tell me what happened."
"Well, when you were downstairs, I came in and, well, did him."
"Did him how?"
"With my mouth. Well, my mouth and a lot of my throat."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. Those doctors put one of those gizmos down there too, did you know that? It took me by surprise, but I really didn't mind. In fact, I kept that fat part (the head?) down there almost the whole time, after that. Could you really tell just from the taste?"
"You bet I could tell. He's my man. Don't you ever forget it. Mine! You can borrow him from time to time, but he is mine. And yes, I found out about that one last night, too. My Master has a real soft streak in him. Soft, but twisted! Do you know he had them put them in my tits, too. I came so hard last night when he hit me there that I passed out. I know they are around my asshole. He probably had them put them all over the place. I'm beginning to wonder if there is any place he can touch us, fuck us or hit us where we won't enjoy it. So did you like taking him in your mouth, other than that?"
"Uh-huh. I even swallowed his, uh, stuff. And I kissed him after and shared it with him, too. I don't think he was sure about doing that, letting his own stuff into his mouth, but he did it. It made me feel special when he did that, you know? That he would do something I asked him to do even though he didn't want to."
Sally laughed quietly. "Oh, now it makes sense. He did the same thing with me, later. He kissed me while I still had some of his in my mouth. He really sucked hard and I couldn't keep it from him. I couldn't figure out why he did that. He'd never done that before. Now I know. He must have sensed how special it made you feel and wanted me to feel the same way."
They sat there quietly for a while. Then Janey got down to the real question.
"Mom, what does it feel like, really? I mean, I could tell when you had an orgasm, and when you were afraid, just at the beginning, and stuff. But, what did it do to you? All that pain! And right there, too. I, uh, I tried it a little myself last night, I hit myself with my school ruler, and all it did was hurt. What did I do wrong? Does he do something special? But, really, Mom, how could you stand it?"
"I noticed the stripes and meant to ask you about them. I was almost wondering if Larry did that, but I couldn't believe he would. Don't do that again, OK? Not by yourself or until you're sure that's what you want. It isn't the same. I know because I tried to do myself too after I kicked Gary out. I don't know if I can tell you what it feels like. You almost have to go through it yourself to know. But I'll try, OK?
"First, my Master is becoming a very powerful Master. He can `see' things. Better than you and I link up, too. I can sense him a little, but he seems to be able to reach out and take me over completely. I don't think he really knows yet what's going on. It kind of scares him, this new power. I think it surprised him a little last night. It may have been the first time he intentionally experienced it. But whatever, it was like he was hooked up to my brain when he touched the end of the crop to me.
"I don't think he knows it, but after the first couple of lame attempts to strike me, he rested just the tip of the riding crop against my stomach. Then he just stood there for what seemed like about 30 minutes. I was beginning to be concerned for him, that he was having a fit, or something, and suddenly I felt him in me, inside me, in my head. It was like he was getting to know me, what he could do to me, just how far to push, how hard to hit. He was very careful to make me feel safe. I miss him being in there now.
"Second, I had displeased my Master. He made an error in letting me choose my punishment, but he made it right later. I don't know what the actual whipping did to me. I remember the pain. I also remember being turned on even more. I was incredibly, powerfully aroused. I made him fuck my in the bathtub afterwards. I think that him more than it did me, and I just about passed out from the pain. But I was so turned on. I still am. I wish he would open his eyes so we could fuck some more."
"Geeze, Mom! Didn't you get enough last night? When are you two going to act your age? I couldn't get to sleep with all that racket, not to mention having to feel your orgasms, too. What were there, ten, twenty?"
As Sally had talked about how horny she still was, I `knocked' on the door of her mind, letting her know I was awake. She moved down and lay beside me on her side her nestled into my side. She pulled the sheet up over her. I could feel her waiting, quivering in anticipation of my command.
In response to Janey's last question, all I heard from Sally was a purring, like a contented kitten. That low pitched sound struck a nerve, an erotic one to boot. I didn't think I had another erection in me, Dr. Wang's operation or no. But that contented purring continued and I was at full mast, tenting the silk top sheet.
"Uh, Mom? Uh, I think Daddy's, uh, `up'."
"Oh, goody!"
With that, we erupted in giggles and guffaws, until another hot body wiggled under the sheet and I felt a warm moist mouth slide over the top and down the shaft of my penis.
"Hey, go find your own. This one's mine!"
Janey raised herself up off my cock. "But I need the practice. Besides, you had enough last night. You won't admit it, but he outlasted you, not the other way around." An impish grin showed itself from under the sheet. "How's it feel, huh? Must be the first time you got everything you needed, huh?"
She dove back down on my prick, now slippery with her saliva. Then, "Mmmmm, good! You taste kind of good together."
I turned my head and opened my eyes to look at my love. She was breathtakingly beautiful.
She smiled up at me seriously. "Good morning, Master. I hope we didn't wake you too soon." Her lustrous eyes looked up at me. I had never seen her so content. She was fingering her collar absently with one hand, the other was lightly tracing the welts across her chest. They still looked angry.
"Good morning, my love." I bent my head to her and kissed her softly. She gasped as if an electric shock went through her.
"Did Janey see what I, uh, what we did last night?" Sally nodded. "Is she OK with it?"
Sally's face clouded over, and she turned her head away from me as she answered.
"What was that, my love? I didn't hear you."
She turned back to face me, her face torn, a puzzle of conflicting emotions. When she spoke she whispered so that the two little ears on the head busy at my cock couldn't hear. "She didn't say it out loud, and she may not know it herself, but I can somehow sense, I know somehow that she wants you to do the same thing to her, too. In fact, she... she ... Oh, God! Master? I don't know what to do! She is so much like me that I'm frightened for her almost more now than after she was attacked."
My normally competent, rock-solid Sally dissolved into a puddle of tears. It was obvious I wasn't going to get anything more from her, so I went to the source.
"Janey?"
"Mrreoph?"
"Janey, put the toy away. Daddy wants to speak with you." I said with mock seriousness.
"Awww. Do I have to?" she teased. Then she wiggled her firm flesh up my torso so that her head was just out of the sheet. This action placed the head of my cock right at the entrance of her cunt. She teasingly wiggled her butt as if to slide down on it. The flimsy material of her had bunched up to one side. I wondered if this was by intent or accident, but I had a hunch she knew exactly what she was doing.
"Janey. Do NOT move another inch! Not one wiggle." My tone left no room for playfulness. She got the hint and rolled to her side, still pressing her luscious tits into my bare chest.
"Yes, Daddy? You wanted to talk to me?" she asked innocently. I would have to remember how good an actress she was. I had just pulled her off my cock, and I still almost believed she was an innocent little girl. God help me!
"Uh, do you have any idea what made your so upset?"
"Nooo!" was her wide-eyed innocent response. I just came in to talk with her this morning. She had a great time last night, Dad. She came so hard. I came, too, just from our connection. And then she didn't stop, but just kept on cumming and cumming and cumming." She raised her self up on her hands as she was speaking. As I saw those rubbery mounds exposed to the afternoon light, I saw what had unsettled Sally.
Thin, lines tracked across her ivory skin. Criss- crossing the succulent orbs. Lots of them. More than I had imagined during their whispered talk. Sally had kept her poise rather well, I thought. I raised a finger to track the lines.
"Oh, Janey! Did you do this?" I already knew, but I wanted her to tell me.
"Uh-huh. When I heard you do it to her, I hated you at first. She felt so afraid. And then, WHAM!" She clapped her hands together for effect. I enjoyed watching the jiggling repercussions. "She went from afraid to out of this world in love with you. And then you hit her. And she just went out." She made an exploding motion with her hands. "Poof!"
"But, why did you do that to yourself. Didn't it hurt?"
She hung her head. "Uh-huh."
"Then why didn't you stop?" But I already knew the answer to that, too. She didn't know how to fail. She just kept trying, and trying, and trying. God, how that must have her.
"I just wanted to feel just a little bit of what felt. But all it did was hurt."
"Are you going to be alright?"
She shook her head `yes'. "I think so. said she had some stuff to put on them."
I must have been asleep for that part. Probably just as well. I don't think I could have just lain there, knowing she was in pain.
"Daddy?" I knew what was coming, but I couldn't hide. "Would you, could we, well, I want to try that, you know, what you did to Mom. I think."
I looked at Sally for help. She gave none. She was watching me for my decision. Her calm demeanor rattled me. If I made the wrong choice, Oh shit. But was there even a right choice?
I copped out. I did what any red-blooded male would do when given the option. I decided to see just how much she wanted it. I was going to test her AND make her wait. And if that didn't dissuade her, well then, God help us all.
I hadn't thought of taking this whole submission thing all that seriously before, but now I was thanking my foresight to prepare. I had made several purchases, thinking the might want to role-play a bit as slave and Master. But now, with Sally reluctant to give up any of her hard fought territory and Janey wanting to take a serious look at being a submissive, I decided that now was as good of a time as any for the next step. Or was it a leap off a precipice?
I turned back to Janey. "Well, lady. If you'll move those fabulous and let me up for a moment, I have some more presents for you."
"Oh, Daddy! You're terrible. But," she looked over at Sally, "Thank You!"
I swear she was positive I was changing the subject and ignoring her request, but combine the word `present' with a woman's curiosity, and you can get away with just about anything. It may be their only weakness.
I slipped out of bed and went over to my dresser. I retrieved two slender boxes from my jewelry drawer. I had them in the open. Another trick, guys. If you want them to find it, hide it.
I walked back and stood by the bed. Both of their tousled heads followed me. Good. I had their attention.
"My love. Kneel!" I indicated a spot in front of me and to my right.
Sally moved immediately to kneel in front of me on the spot I indicated.
"Would you care to join us?" I asked Janey.
She bounced off the bed and landed with a `thump' on the floor. It was a fantastic sight, and my prick twitched in appreciation of all that flesh in mo-mo-mo- motion. Sally saw my reaction and started to laugh. She tried to cover with a cough, but all that came out was a `snort'. Very unladylike. But the show must go on.
"Yes, well. Nice landing, kid. Knock yourself out." This time Sally did laugh, guffaw, really, which she choked off quickly. She looked up at me shocked, panicked, as if I would be upset at her for laughing at my joke. I reached down and stoked her cheek with the back of my hand. We had a lot of details to iron out. Janey knelt there with a confused look on her face. She didn't seem to have the faintest notion of the show she had just put on for me.
As they were both facing me, away from the bed, I stepped between them and turned, sitting down on the bed. I reached for the clasp of Sally's bejeweled collar.
"Oh, Master. Please. No. Don't." She was heartbroken.
"Shhhh. Quiet, my love. As much as this is a beautiful piece of jewelry, paling only in comparison to you, it is a bit impractical to wear it around the house, no?" I took the first box and opened it. "I think this one will be more comfortable and practical while still serving the same purpose."
I slipped the broad leather band I had had Amud make for Sally around her neck. He had seemed to know just what I needed. Or maybe he knew what she needed. It fit perfectly, just a bit snug. It was a constant reminder of her submission to me, her Master. The dark leather made a startling contrast against her light skin. In the front center was small medallion. It was a silver disk with an emerald green ceramic inlay showing two hands bound together at the wrist. The loose ends of the rope were in the shape of a stylized letter `S'.
I fastened the collar at the back of her neck. The solid click seemed to enervate her and I could feel her trembling. "I have the only key to the lock on this collar, my love. This collar doesn't come off until I decide." I touched her shoulder to indicate she should bend over, bowing down her face to the floor. "This is what I have decided.
"You are mine, my love, forever. I love you with all my heart and will do my best to be the Master you deserve. Do not feel guilty for this change in our relationship. You have not forced me to do this, this is my choice. I have never felt like this before, never felt this powerful before. I have you, my love, to thank."
I took the second box and took another collar from it. I lifted Janey's hair out of the way and slipped it around her neck. Her collar buckled with a pair of sturdy snaps. Her collar was identical to her mother's, with the exception that the ceramic was royal blue and the ropes formed a `J'. Janey turned to thank me.
"Eyes front!"
She stopped, frozen. I hadn't used that tone with her before, but she knew instinctively better than to disobey or make wise. She turned back and settled uncertainly on her knees.
I sat quietly behind them for a while. I toyed with the soft skin along Janey's shoulders and twirled the errant hairs as I sat there. Janey began to fidget, nervous in the silence. I saw Sally's hand slide slowly over to her and grasp her hand. I was almost jealous. They had each other to help each other through this learning time. I was on my own and at that moment, didn't have a clue of where I was going. I only knew that this `felt' right.
I had a short, heated argument with myself about rebelling against going with my feelings. God, I hated that. I had always associated a person who made decisions based on their feelings with wimpy suck-faces and mama's boys. Not something I associated with my own self-image. It was my opinion that if you didn't know what to do, how the fuck were you supposed to feel your way through?
Now, here I was, feeling my way along. But, in my defense, these were really strong feelings. I didn't understand it, but it was as if I was hooked in to Sally's head and body and soul and spirit. Janey's too, but in a lesser way. That link fluctuated. Right now it was coming in loud and clear. I plowed on, into the unknown following the faintly lighted path in front of me.
"Janey, before you agree to wear this collar, I want you to understand what it means. When you choose wear this collar, you will obey me without question, without hesitation. When you have the collar on, your purpose, your only focus is my pleasure. Not yours. You will be allowed to have sexual release when I decide. In addition, whatever, I repeat, whatever I wish to do to you or have you do, you will do. And you will enjoy it for the sole reason that I wished for you to do it. Your can explain that better to you later.
"Your personality will not cease to exist. You will still be the `Janey' I know and love. I expect you to be curious and playful, as you are now. I will not accept less than your best effort at whatever I have you do, and I know you are very, very good at everything you do. I will also not accept less than your total obedience. You may question me if you do not understand something. I expect that. You may make suggestions that you think you, or others would enjoy or benefit from. But when I have made up my mind, you may not question my decisions or commands. I will be as precise as possible in my commands. Follow what I say exactly.
"I will not you in any way. By that, I do not mean I will not cause you to experience pain. If you accept my collar, you will feel pain. If you disobey, the consequences will be particularly painful. At other times, it may please me to torment you. Perhaps without giving you the pleasure your felt last night. But know that that pain will pass, your body will heal.
"What I meant when I said I will not you was that I will not break your spirit. If anything, I will try to build you up, make you stronger. You have already been once, very badly. I could not bear to do that to you myself, to cause you that kind of pain.
"I will not break your heart or cause you that kind of pain. I love you, Janey, and would give my life for you. But it is not like I love your mother. Our relationship may be sexual, yes you can stop worrying about that. But that can make this real complicated for a beautiful girl. I know it confuses the Hell out of me!
"Your collar snaps on. It is not permanent. That is intentional. It is a reminder to me and you that someday, you will take this collar off and move on. When you are ready. I also want you to be very clear that if, at any time, you feel overwhelmed, if you sense the blackness reaching up to grab you, or if there is something I ask of you that you are not ready to do, you can reach back and unsnap it.
"I will not be your Master and you will not address me that way. Our relationship will not be what your mother's and mine is." I thought fast. "I remember one of my instructors telling me that the Japanese word for Master is `Sensei', but that it also means `teacher.' Use that when you speak to me."
I sat back. "Any questions so far?"
Hesitantly, she turned to me, waiting for the rebuke that didn't come. "Sensei." She tried out the word, letting it slip off her tongue. "I like that." She smiled, irrepressibly. "So what are you going to call me? You don't call `Sally' when she has her collar on. You call her Love, or My Love. Gushy." She paused, then when the time was right, "Are you going to call me `Grasshopper', like in the "Kung Fu" series?" I saw Sally shaking, silently laughing at her offspring's audacity.
I laughed, too. "Well, that may be a bit plagerous. But how about `Cricket'? You know, I do like the sounds you make when you rub your legs together..." I said, lecherously.
"Daa... Sensei!" She blushed a deep red, but she was pleased, both at the comment and for her slave name. Suddenly she grinned a mischievous grin, and looked at me questioningly. When I simply looked back at her, she lay back flat on the floor, and began what had to be one of the most sensuous movements of her legs I had ever seen. With each scissor-like move her upper legs brushed over each other. With an athletic twist at one point in the arc, she was able to apply pressure to her excitable clitoris. She stopped and started a couple of times until she had the moves down, and then began to masturbate, using her legs alone. I watched her for a while, enjoying her building sexual tension as she stimulated herself with the rhythmic motions. Then I popped the bubble.
"Cricket? Remember, you may only when I say you can cum. I insist on that." She stopped in mid-moan. "But don't stop what you're doing. Please continue. It is most erotic. It pleases me to watch you."
She blushed again. The coloring became her. I hoped she never lost that part of her character. Janey was confused at my request and didn't know what to do at first. Finally she continued, her pace a bit slower. "Sensei?"
"Yes?"
"Am I being punished?"
"Are you in pain?"
"No, of course not." Her breathing was getting ragged.
I waited. She was bursting with questions. I intended to enjoy this situation to the fullest so I tapped Sally on her back and motioned for her to take my throbbing shaft in her mouth. She quickly raised herself from her bowed posture and took her place. Engulfing my cock head in her hot mouth, she held still.
She groaned in absolute pleasure as I pushed down on her head, giving her permission to move her head, to service me. She wrapped both her arms around my waist possessively, her fingers tickling that certain spot in the small of my back that always seemed to respond to her fingers. I thrust my hips forward reflexively, forcing more of myself down her throat. I wound my hands in her hair and fucked her head up and down, establishing a tempo that would keep me hard for a long time. I went deep into her throat, setting off the implants. She shuddered. I felt scalding tears wash down my inner thighs. I searched for some unhappiness in her, but found none.
Janey had felt the orgasm Sally experienced. It just about pushed her over the edge. "Sensei, what will happen if I, you know, uh..."
"Cum?" I finished for her.
"Yeah.'
"You will be punished."
"Hard?"
"No more than you can bear. But from what I see from those marks all over your body, you can bear a lot, Cricket. So be careful, please, for your sake."
She kept up her sinuous movements, slowly separating her legs to reduce the friction. I think she hoped I wouldn't notice. She was trying to avoid a climax by not doing her best. Unacceptable.
"Cricket? Only your very best. Remember?"
"Oh, God, Sensei, this is too hard! I will if I keep doing this."
"Do you wish to quit?"
She thought about that. "No. No pain, no gain, right?"
I smiled. I knew she was a bright girl. "Right. Learn to control it. It takes a great deal of strength. You can ask your later about that, too. She may be able to help."
I raised Sally up off my cock. I was a long ways from finishing. She knew it, but she still at my shaft as I pulled her off. Maybe she thought she could get something out of it that way. I lifted her lips to mine and kissed her. She seemed disappointed there was nothing to share with me this time. I grinned at her and lifted her a little more so that her legs fell on both sides of mine. Her eyes widened, hoping, longing. I settled her down, impaling her on my shaft. She hissed in my ear as I filled her completely.
"You had yours earlier, my love. You may not peak again until Janey cums. She will, but I haven't decide when that will be, yet. I am finding this `Master' and `Sensei' thing to be an incredible turn-on. I could get used to this. And I have you to thank!" I had spoken softly in her ear, for her alone. She fastened her sharp teeth into the muscles on my neck and began a serious movement up and down my cock. I urged her on with rhythmic swats to her smooth ass cheeks. They colored nicely. Her arms tightened around me in a death hug. She would have to love me to death.
Janey hadn't heard us until she heard the slapping of my hands against her mother's ass. She was preoccupied, anyway, focusing her considerable attention on not having an orgasm while still stimulating herself.
I watched the play of emotions flit across the faces of the two beautiful women, one openly masturbating in front of me for the first time, the other steadily fucking the hard shaft of her Master. Shame, lust, need, a little hate, aching need, passion, a slight tremor, a twitch, and then some real fear as they both sensed they were at the edges of the forbidden climaxes. I reached out with my senses and blocked the link Janey had with her mom. I didn't want any extraneous blips from Sally to hit her unexpectedly and push her over. She was trying so hard.
Janey noticed the dampening of the feelings coming from Sally. She got a frightened look on her face, and stopped moving her legs. She hugged her arms around herself. "God, Sensei, is this what other people feel? I would rather be punished. Please, I feel so alone. Please?"
I relented and let a little bit more of Sally leak through to her. She latched on to that little bit like a drowning to a life raft. She began to rub her legs again, this time with the intent of bringing herself off rapidly.
She was putting me in tough spot. Just like a woman to find a way to manipulate a man, regardless of the circumstances.
"Cricket, I do not wish to punish you. You may cum. But you will only when I count to three. Clear?"
She nodded, shakily. With my foot I urged her hand closest to me to her chest. She looked at me questioningly. With my hands behind Sally's back, I held up one finger, then two then three, then I pinched my thumb and forefinger together in an exaggerated manner, indicating I wanted her to squeeze hard; harder than she normally would. She nodded and brought her other hand up, teasing and then capturing both erect nipples. I watched this erotic display for a while, until she turned her frantic eyes on mine, pleading for release.
"One." I lifted Sally up. I could feel the knots in her muscles.
"Two." I kept her up, just the head of me inside her. I kissed her nipples, first one then the other. I heard Janey grunting on the floor with the effort of holding off her climax. She had waited long enough.
"Three!" I dropped Sally, letting her own weight bring her crashing down against my balls. I forced my hips up at the same time, crashing the tip of my cock into her cervix. I shot my load up into her spasming cunt. Her teeth bit down hard on my neck.
Janey screamed, "Sensei!" Sally screamed, "Master!" at the same moment.
I removed the damper from between them, and the aftershocks that fed off each other were sweeter than the original twin earthquakes.
We didn't get much else done that day.
Chapter 27
It was early the next morning when we finally got out of bed for any length of time. Believe it or not, I didn't have intercourse with Janey once during that time. It just didn't seem right, with her wearing the collar. I think both of us, and Sally, too, instinctively understood that her first time with me had to be with her full choice. That doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy her company, so to speak, to the fullest. To be honest, meeting Sally's immense build up of sexual needs took most of my attentions and energy. Having a second naked female body helped for stimulation, though.
Rousting my two disheveled bedmates out of bed, I gave serious consideration to how to proceed. I didn't want to be a dictator, but the lifestyle we were headed into demanded that there be some clear guidelines - rules - for the two women to live by. For them to know what to expect, how to act, etc. Hell, I need them as much as they did.
If working for the government had taught me anything, it had taught me that Ralph Waldo Emerson was correct when he said "That government governs best that governs least." Or something like that. The point he was trying to make was to make as few hard and fast rules as possible, just ten commandments. That's all. Just enough to show the intent, don't stifle the initiative.
Breakfast was a veritable feast. The two new `slaves' tried to out-do each other in making my favorite dishes. I finally sat them down and told them they were my favorite dishes and to quit wasting good food. While I had them down and quiet, I decided to introduce the rules.
"Before I start, let me say that your participation in all of this, Cricket, is voluntary. However, you can't pick and chose what you will or won't do, if you decide to participate. It's all or nothing. Understood?"
I got a quiet, but definite nod in the affirmative.
"First, these rules I'm going to go over only apply when you have on the collars. Sally, I have the key to yours, so I decide when they apply to you. Janey, you can put yours on whenever you are ready to participate. After you put it on, though, it stays there until I take it off. Exceptions are for school or company or when you are truly overwhelmed."
I got two nods of understanding. Janey was a little wide-eyed at the concept she just couldn't back out after she was in. Sally didn't like it, but understood.
"Second, there will be special clothing you will wear. Slave garb, so to speak. Love, your first job is to design and sew up two sets of slave garb for you and Cricket. It should not be blatant, but it should make you aware of how exposed you are at all times. Your bodies should be totally available to me at all times. I expect to see those outfits by tonight. You both have permission to go to town to shop for materials." I quickly calculated distances and time. "You may be gone for two hours. For every minute over that limit, you will both receive one stroke of punishment."
They both gasped. The time I allotted would almost positively ensure at least a minimal punishment. How substantial it would actually be was up to them, however, and by the amount of time they spent shopping.
"Third, when not otherwise engaged in a productive activity, one of you will attend to me. Love, do you remember our bet?"
Sally nodded, her eyes widening.
"That will be the assumed position. Please take it now as a demonstration for Cricket."
She slowly slid to her knees to a position in between my legs. She parted my robe and slipped just the head of my flaccid cock into her mouth. I didn't stay limp for long as I was in one of my favorite places and she had to adjust the position of her head to accommodate my growth.
"Cricket, you will observe that she has just the head in her mouth. She is not moving, sucking, licking or humming. Nothing. This is what will be called `Head Time.' You will have your own opportunity to do this."
Sally started to rise, having given her demonstration. I cleared my throat, and, when she looked at me, raised a questioning eyebrow. I nodded with my head, indicating to her to get back into the position. Realizing she had erred, she blushed deeply. God, she was beautiful. I resumed when she had my cockhead reseated in her fabulous mouth.
"Cricket, you have much to learn, and are really in a training position. I, not you, will determine your rate of progress. You have already begun giving me blowjobs, but need practice. Therefore, you will practice every morning, to start the day."
Janey cheered at that, and I saw Sally just about choke, but hey, what guy wouldn't want to start the day with a gorgeous teenager giving him a blowjob?
I continued with Janey's instructions. "Unless instructed otherwise, you will sleep in your own room. I don't want any unconscious accidents, clear?"
Sally relaxed a little at that. I wasn't going to push her little into a sex slave thing entirely. Janey wasn't as pleased, though. Tough.
"Love, you main duties will be the household, including the health of said household. You will run the house. What you say goes, even over Cricket, and to some extent, over me. You will determine the menu, any social events, and, most importantly, a rigorous exercise program..."
How she could smirk with her mouth full of cock, I don't know, but damned if she didn't.
"... other than sexual exercises, Love. I will determine that area. Clear? I don't want flabby slaves. Oh, by the way. I will be doing the exercise program with you. I expect it to challenge me, as well."
I saw her face pale when I said that. She knew I exercised hard every morning. If it was to be challenging to me, she and Janey would be hard pressed to keep up. There were going to be some sore muscles for a few weeks.
"Cricket, your main duty is to see to your education and any related activities. The collar comes off in a heartbeat for those things. Understood?"
"Lastly, the small room off of the living room, now the den, will be a `Free Room.' None of the slave rules apply when you are in that room, for either of you, collar or no collar. That is your refuge, your sanctuary, should you ever need it. To be sure that the sanctity of that room in enforceable, I give you my word. That, and I will put a loaded pistol in the drawer of the desk in that room, readily accessible."
Sally lost it at that. Her head jerked up and she almost blurted out her objections.
Before she could object, I went on. "This is going to be our lifestyle in our own home, and is not for public display. Unless specifically instructed to do so, you will act `normal' in public. On occasion you may be bound in public, but it will not be visible, and it will be your primary job not to allow it to become visible or obvious to the public. You will never be publicly displayed or humiliated. Above all, you will be expected to act with dignity and respect, both towards each other and me. I will tolerate no disrespect."
"Oh, and one other thing, you will always speak the truth to me and to each other. Always. Your true thoughts, your true feelings. You do not need to be in the Free Room for that. I cherish your minds more than your bodies. I will gag you as little as possible, and only with your consent or for special punishments or playtimes. I want you to be able to express yourselves, understood? I will not demand silence.
"If this lifestyle limits your freedom to be who you are in any noticeable way, it will not continue. It will be difficult for you, knowing where that line is, but we will find it together." I turned to look at Sally. "Now, Love, I understand you wanted to say something?"
"Master, the gun, there is no need. Your word is enough."
"Love, suppose I am punishing you. Suppose I go too far, push you past your limits. I am still new at this. It would never be my intent to harm you, but in the heat of passion, in the contest of wills to be a true Master to you, I might not recognize when I have gone too far. A doorway won't stop me. A loaded gun will. I want you to know - know! - that you are safe in that room, even from me. However, if you can think of a better way, I will listen."
She sat silently, stunned at the seriousness with which I was taking this new lifestyle. I had always heard you should be careful what you wish for, that you just might get it. Well, Sally was now faced with having her fondest wishes coming true. And there was a loaded gun involved. Not quite what she had expected.
There didn't seem to be anymore comments, so I took Sally's hand and lifted her to her feet. With instructions for Janey to clean up the kitchen, I lead Sally into our bedroom and from there to the bathroom.
I looked around at the clutter on the counter, mostly hers, got the wastebasket, and swept it all in. Turning her with her back to the counter, I lifted her up and sat her down, her back to the mirror. She had a bemused smile on her face until I lifted her feet so they rested on the counter.
"What are you going to do, Master? Uh, if I can ask, that is."
Grinning, I answered her. "I am going to attend to you. And, yes, you may ask anything, any time. I already told you that."
"Master, you are going to attend to what?"
"Well, I noticed last night that there was a bit of stubble growing down around your pubic area. I thought I would clean it up for you."
"But Master, I can do that myself."
I leaned in to kiss her gently. "I know you can. But would you deny me the pleasure of doing this for you? Remember the last time?"
She groaned erotically. It had been a most enjoyable time for us both, but especially for her.
"Every morning, after Janey finishes her `practice,' you and I will shave and shower together. You will shave me, I will shave you. Then we will shower together. I will wash you, you will wash me. Any more questions?"
Her eyes widened. She knew I used a straight razor, my great-great grandfather's that was deadly sharp. Now I was asking, no, telling her she would use it on me. My face, my neck would be at her mercy. It was another way of my telling her how deadly serious I was about this new way of life.
"But I won't need shaving every morning, Master."
"You would question my instructions so soon, slave?" With that, grinning, I picked up the brush and whipped up a good head of foam. I applied it much more thoroughly to her nether regions than necessary. Her eyes never left the razor as I sharpened it on the thick leather strop.
A well-placed thumb told me she not only remembered the last time I had shaved her, she was looking forward to it now, as well. When I heard her straining and moaning as if in pain, I asked her what the problem was.
"You haven't given me permission to cum, Master. It is very difficult to hold back."
I sat back, dumbfounded. "Sally, Love. You always have permission to cum, unless I specifically tell you not to. Furthermore, during this special time every morning, I will expect you to as often as possible. This is our time, just you and me. Do and say what you want in here. OK?"
With a sob of relief, she drowned my thumb with her juices. I heard a faint, "Hey, what's going on in there" from Janey's room or the kitchen as she sensed her Mom's orgasm, but we both ignored it for the moment. There were more important matters to attend to.
Much, much later, with shaky hands, she only nicked me once with the razor. That was probably my fault for making her shave me while impaled on my cock.
So what if the shave was a little ragged? We had many mornings ahead of us for her to practice.
Chapter 28
My two slave were a flurry of activity the rest of the morning. Around noon or so, Janey slipped in to my office where I was working, and stood there, shyly waiting for me to say something to her. Finally, after ignoring her for several long minutes I looked up at her.
"Are you supposed to be doing something?"
"Uh, said I should do some Head Time while she makes lunch."
"And...?"
"Well, I didn't want to bother you, and, well, uh..."
I stared at her. She got nervous and started to cry. Damn. I motioned her over to me and took her on my lap. When she settled down I kissed her gently on the cheek and then urged her down between my legs, under the desk. Let me tell you, life doesn't get much better than that!
Janey loosened my belt, unsnapped my jeans and pulled down the zipper. I was pleased she had some difficulty doing that, as if she had never done this before. I hoped not.
"Can I use my hands?"
"Huh?"
"Can I use my hands to, you know, get it out?"
I laughed. "Yes, you may, though I might just tie them behind your back sometime for the fun of it!"
Blushing, she reached in and freed my semi-stiff cock. She took the opportunity to examine it closely until I cleared my throat to remind her why she was there. With an impish little giggle, she slipped the swollen purplish head into her mouth.
Not knowing how long she could stay there, or how long I could last in that hot steaming cauldron, I busied myself with some of the financial reports that needed to be reviewed. It must have been 10 minutes later when I sensed her arousal building. It was amazing. I could literally `see' the lights and colors of the aura around her body shifting and changing, building to a swirling kaleidoscope of feelings. Her hands were resting on my thighs and she wasn't moving, so I knew she wasn't bringing herself off. I was getting better at this sensing stuff, so it wasn't totally unexpected when she released me from her mouth.
"Sensei? What's happening? I'm going to, to, Oh, God! I'm cummmmming!"
I could feel her climax rolling through her, kind of, and I focused on it without touching her. Actually, I focused on some of the brighter colors of her emotions. Maybe I focused a bit too much because suddenly her eyes rolled up into her head and she sort of slumped down onto the floor.
I leaned down and picked her up, settling her comfortably on my lap. For being so relaxed, I could still feel the sexual tremors coursing through her body. She was purring, too. I rocked her back and forth like she was a little girl.
I looked up to see Sally propped up in the doorway, a wild expression on her face. "What in the Hell was that?" Her breathing was ragged as if she had just finished running a race.
"Janey was doing some Head Time and had an orgasm."
"But you helped, didn't you?
"Huh? No, not really. I didn't touch her at all."
"No. I mean with your link. You helped."
"Oh, yeah, I guess. Is she alright?"
"Alright? God, I should feel so good. I want one of those, too..." As an afterthought she added, "...please, Master."
It was the first time I had intentionally helped one of them with an orgasm. This link thing I had seemed to be different, much more powerful than the ones they had and I still had a long way to go in learning to control it.
Sally stood watching us for a bit. I sensed a bit of jealousy - not much, but a bit. Then she, too, focused on Janey and she relaxed. She glanced at the clock on the wall.
"Lunch is ready. Would you like it served in here, Master?"
"I'll bring her out to the kitchen. I like it when we all eat together. Like a family."
It must have been the right answer as I saw her smile contentedly as she turned and walked down the hall.
After lunch the two of them changed into jeans, tennies and t-shirts for their shopping trip. They presented themselves to me before leaving. I motioned Janey over to me, had her turn around and I unsnapped her collar. I hung it from a special peg underneath the clock on the wall. I motioned Sally over, and unlocked her collar and put it on another peg.
As soon as she was free, Sally threw her body up against mine, forcing me back against a bookcase. Her arms went around my neck and she drew my lips to hers in a fierce, passionate and long kiss. Both of us were breathing raggedly when she finally broke it off.
"You know, you don't have to wait for me to take off the collar to give me another one of those," I whispered to her. "I could get to like those really well..."
Sally sighed and tried to meld her body to mine, purring contentedly. "I know. I just wanted to let you know, when I was free, how much I love you." She looked up at me and smiled. "And to say `Thank You,' too."
"I love you, too. Listen, if the collar is too much of a restriction on you expressing how you feel ..."
"Oh, no! I'll get used to it. It's just that, well, before, I wasn't allowed to have likes or dislikes."
"Am I doing this wrong?"
Again she smiled. "No, you're wonderful. But habits die hard. I will change. You are the Master, my Master."
I looked over at the clock. "Well, as much as I love you, and this little touching moment, you now have 1 hour 57 minutes to get those collars back on. You'd better get a move on."
With faux screams of terror, the two lovelies dashed to Sally's car and headed for the Mall. I knew when they went the wrong direction down the highway that Sally intended to push the envelope of their punishment as far as she could. I hoped she wouldn't make it too hard on Janey.
I had some modifications to make on the furniture while they were gone, adding eyebolts and straps to the bed frames, headboards and footboards at regular intervals. I did both Janey's bed and ours. When I was done, the new fixtures were from sight. I was pleased with my handiwork.
The proximity alarm in the driveway sounded and I looked out the window. I saw Sally's car sitting at the end of the driveway, almost out of sight. I wasn't sure if she knew about the alarm I had had installed during that media nightmare, but regardless, I wasn't pleased that she was so flagrantly extending their return time. I stood and watched for about 10 minutes before the car started up and the two came back in the house.
Janey came tearing into my office and knelt down in front of me. She scooped her hair forward to expose her neck. When I didn't move she gave a worried look at the clock and, as another ticked off, gave a tiny squeal of fear.
"Dad?"
"Yes, Janey?"
"Aren't you, uh, um, going to put the collar back on?"
"What? It's my job to fetch your collar?"
The look of horrified realization on her face was priceless. She dashed up and snatched her collar and tried to hand it to me. When I wouldn't take it, she began shaking it urgently.
"Daaaad. Here it is. Take it." She paused. "Oh! Please?"
"Present it to me properly, Janey."
"Huh?"
"Kneel down, yes, like that. Now take the collar in both hands, put them together with the palms up. Good. Bow your head down. Right. Now, that's the proper way to present your collar to me; as a gift of your whole being." Sally had come into the room and was standing quietly at the doorway. I don't think Janey knew she was there.
"Oh. OK. Sorry."
"That's OK, Janey. You're learning, remember?"
I sat and watched her squirm.
"Uh, Dad. Was there anything else?"
"No. I was just wondering if you had anything to tell me." I was looking directly at Sally when I said that.
Janey quit squirming. Sally stood deathly still. They both knew that I knew they had delayed their return intentionally. "No," was her quiet reply.
I grinned. Good. She wouldn't tattle on her just to lessen her punishment. "So, whose idea was it to delay getting back?"
She just knelt there, silent. I could sense desperation in her aura, coloring my sense of her. She was torn between fear of the pain and punishment and of betraying her Mother. I'm glad she stayed silent.
Taking pity on her, I bent over, took her collar and fastened it around that slim neck. "Twenty minutes late. For you."
She looked over at the clock and back at me with big eyes. The clock showed that they had been over 30 minutes late, even before I delayed getting her collar back on her.
"It wasn't all Mom's fault, Sensei. Please don't be mad at her."
I took her into my arms and held her while she worked out her tears. "I could never be mad at your Mom, Cricket. Don't you worry about it. You just focus on you. You let your and me worry about us, OK?"
She hugged me and dashed out of the room. I don't know if she even saw Sally standing there. I halfway think she thought she was escaping without her punishment. Oh, well. She would learn.
Sally, having had the benefit of Janey's example went and retrieved her collar from its peg on the wall. With the grace of an angel, she knelt in front of me and gave me her gift. The way it was done made me feel honored to accept it. I know I cherished her, but she made it seem special. Even so, there was an issue between us. I locked the collar around her neck.
As she tried to rise, I placed my foot on the back of her head. She froze. I sensed dread spreading through her. She knew I was displeased. Not angry. Disappointed.
I tried to focus on that disappointment and project it to her. She gasped as I succeeded, then she dissolved into a sobbing heap. I was aware of Janey outside the door, listening. I tried to send her a reassurance that it was OK. I would not her Mom. I was surprised to feel her calm down.
I let Sally stay down. I did not try to comfort her as I had her daughter. I did relax the displeasure I was focussing on her and when she finally got her sobbing under control, I spoke to her.
"I expect to see the slave garb by tonight, 10:00. No delays, understood?"
"Yes, Master." Her voice was quiet.
"Do Janey's outfit first and have her wear it in when she is ready for her punishment." I felt the fear surge through the trim body listening outside the door. She really had been hoping I had forgotten.
"Yes, Master."
"Your punishment is 45 minutes." I had tacked the remaining time from Janey's punishment to hers.
"Yes, Master. Thank you, Master." I didn't sense that she really was thankful, but I didn't want to push it.
Dinner, as you can imagine, was a quiet affair. I was rather amused that they were both so somber. I was also amused, and pleased, that neither was afraid. Janey was anxious, not knowing what to expect. Sally was sad, sorry she had displeased me. I had already decided on Janey's punishment. I also had a plan forming for Sally's. I hoped it would make my point.
Sally had had Janey working on the outfits while she prepared dinner. Janey wasn't happy about that as getting her outfit done sooner would have accelerated the time of her date with destiny. She cleverly got around that by doing all the prep work on her Mom's outfit first, so that after dinner, when Sally went in to sew them together, all of Janey's pattern still needed to be cut out. I heard them discussing it, with Sally telling Janey I had wanted hers done first. Janey very correctly pointed out that I had told Sally to do Janey's first, not Janey. Since Sally hadn't passed that on to her, she had been free to do what she wanted. Damn, I knew she was a smart girl!
As a result, it was nearly 9:00 when Janey slipped into my office. I let her stand there a moment before looking up. I think I gasped, because she blushed a deep, deep red.
Janey was wearing a vest of shiny dark blue satin. The sides of the vest came to, but didn't cover her nipples, thus exposing her charms to my view. A broad sturdy belt of the same color with several pairs of D- rings on the sides and in the back was cinched around her tiny waist. Her skirt, also dark blue, ended before her legs began, leaving her exposed in every position. With her collar, that was all she wore. It was exquisite.
I admired her for several minutes, having her turn around and pose for me. I felt her getting more and more aroused as she paraded herself, nearly naked, in front of me. I kept her moving and posing for a while longer, then indicated for her to kneel in front of me.
When she knelt, I pulled open the robe I had slipped into after dinner. My appreciation of her beauty was evident. "Head Time," was all I said to her.
Without the slightest hesitation she slipped her mouth over the head of my cock. This time, however, it seemed to calm her down from her aroused state. I began to sense softer hues in the colors of her aura, still with the occasional bright flashes of arousal but more organized and rhythmic.
I sat stroking her hair gently for the longest time. It was a kind of bonding time for us. I wanted her to know that the punishment to follow was not done in anger. I think she understood.
When I lifted her up from her knees, she kissed me. Not exactly an unchaste kiss, either. Undeterred, I positioned her over my knees. Sally had provided straps that were attached to the belt and I understood their purpose immediately. Capturing Janey's wrists, I looped the soft straps around them and then fed the ends through the double-D rings in the back of the belt that went around her waist.
Janey struggled for a bit, and then giggled nervously, "Oh! That's what those are for. said you'd probably know."
"Yeah, she's pretty smart. You'd have figured it out eventually, too."
I rubbed my hand all over the target she presented to me. This wasn't part of the punishment. I just enjoyed rubbing her bare ass. It was just so perfect: the perfect shape, the perfect size, perfect texture, and almost the perfect color. Well, I was going to make it the perfect color, and right now.
WHAP!
"OH!"
WHAP!
"OH!"
WHAP! WHAP! WHAP!
Oooooohhhhh, God. I'm cummmmmmmming!
I knew she had been primed. I hadn't wanted to focus on her and accentuate her arousal, I was still too clumsy with it. So I was glad when she went over after just five firm swats. I think the Rosen's gadgets helped, but I swear she would have started just as fast on her own.
I picked up the pace and the hardness now that she was on her way. I don't know how high she went or how many times. She just kept going on and on and on. Her hands clenched and unclenched over and over as she struggled against her bonds. My leg under her crotch was dripping with her fluids.
After the last blow, I rested my hand on the now ruby orbs. The heat from them was astounding. I dipped my finger into her dripping slit and touched her button. That set her off anew. I was busy watching the colors of her aura and how they changed as I touched her. When I brought the tip of my dripping finger to her tightly clenched anal rosebud, the intensity of the colors dimmed. All except one. That light seemed to gather all the other light into itself. I circled my finger, carefully and easily rimming her asshole. The light followed my movements and glowed brighter still as she became accustomed to the unfamiliar touch.
Taking a chance, I slipped the marauding digit into her back to the first knuckle. The flash of light almost blinded me as her entire bodily aura seemed to come alive with colors and hues of happiness. Janey arched her back, bowing her body so tight her ankles almost touched the back of her head. With a final shudder, she collapsed across my knees.
I loosened her wrists from the convenient restraints. I lifted her limp body in my arms and carried my treasure into her room. I sat her on her bed and carefully stripped off the slave garb from the passive girl. I noticed that Sally had provided Velcro closures in strategic places so that the clothing could be removed without releasing the slave from bondage. She had put a lot of thought into the garments.
I reached behind Janey's neck and removed her collar. She stifled a sob when I did. I tipped the naked back and put her under the covers, then pulled them up to her chin. She gave me a little pout, but she knew what was coming. We both knew. We had both sensed it.
"Janey? We need to talk."
"Do we have to?"
I just looked at her and smiled. Then nodded my head.
"I'm going to hold on to your collar for a while. You like this too much, and you want it for the wrong reason. But, you know that, don't you?"
She nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek.
"I am going to let you wear it, though ..." she looked up quickly, surprised, "...on two weekends a month, but never two in a row." She frowned, thinking, calculating. "And on special occasions, of course. Fair enough?"
She nodded, agreeing that it was fair.
"You want this too much. A big reason is because you think it will get me to fuck you sooner, right?" She gave me a wry grin. "Well, kiddo, you're probably right. If you were tied up and naked, the Pope would have trouble resisting you." I got a wrinkled nose as she pictured that gentle elderly statesman leering at her, but she got the general idea.
"There is so much out there you have yet to experience. If you were locked up in here, literally, you would always wonder what you had missed. There is plenty of time for you to embrace this life later, when you know absolutely that this is what you want.
"You should know, too, that I love you very much. I could never bear to you."
"The spanking didn't me, Daddy."
"I know, Janey. I know. God, I thought you were going to explode!"
She was giggling as I leaned over to kiss her goodnight. She caught me around my neck and hugged me fiercely.
"Dad? Mom's afraid."
"Afraid? Of what? That I will punish her?"
"Oh, no! She accepts that. I'm not real sure, but I think she knows she did something kind of stupid. She feels like she disappointed you and is afraid that you won't forgive her." All in one breath.
"Well, Janey, not that it's any of your business, but she did screw up pretty badly. And I am disappointed. But I have already forgiven her. I won't, I can't hold it against her. I love her too much." I paused and got real serious. "I will try to help her remember, though. Uh, do you want me to try to turn down your link with her? It might get pretty intense."
That last question sent a surge of terror through the teen, the response I was looking for. I felt a corresponding echo of that terror from outside the door mixed with panic. I quickly cut their link, then winked at Janey. Her eyes widened in surprise and laughter when she realized the trick I had pulled on the eavesdropping woman. She was also terribly relieved, an emotion I did not allow her to sense.
I left her snuggling in her bed, trying to follow us with her link. I knew it wouldn't be hard for her, as I planned to mete out her Mom's punishment in the room over her bedroom. I hoped she would understand. I hoped they both would.
I met up with Sally outside my office. If I had stared at Janey's outfit, I was google-eyed at Sally's. Her outfit was made up of light tan leather with emerald satin trim. Instead of a vest, Sally wore a halter- like top. A tight strap went around her chest snug under her breasts. Two more went around the outsides of her breasts, up and behind her neck. I assumed it tied there. There was very little other material and leather. The effect was to lift and compress her tits, putting those glorious orbs on a type of tray. The welts I had placed there the night before were proudly displayed.
Her skirt was similar to Janey's with a sturdy waist belt, D-rings and convenient straps for binding her wrists. Her skirt, though, was composed of alternating narrow leather and emerald thongs. The thongs all ended at different lengths, and they were weighted at the ends, like they had fishing weights sewn into them. I noticed the ones in the front were designed to bump up against her clit and slit when she moved, keeping her aroused. Clever girl!
Without a word I took her hand and led her upstairs, to the room where we had entertained Amud and Bala. The Arabian motif was still in place. I pointed to the other room, the women's quarters without a word. She emerged several minutes later in her veils and gauze outfit I had laid out for her.
She came and stood before me, wondering what to do next. I clicked the remote of the stereo. The `cling- cling' sounds of Eastern music filled the room.
"Dance."
I could sense her indecision and her despair. I could also tell she wanted so badly to please me.
She began to move. I was prepared to love any effort she made, but even I have to admit she performed awkwardly. Her heart was in it, she gave it her all, but she did not have the training necessary to make it right. She danced with every fiber of her being and I loved her for it. I made her dance the entire 45 minutes. When I clicked off the music, she collapsed in a sweating, sobbing heap in the middle of the floor.
I let her sob. I was careful not to convey my displeasure. If she had tried to reach out to me with her link, she would have felt how proud I was of her for her effort, for not quitting, for her desire to please me regardless of her lack of skill. Eventually she quieted down and did reach out to me. And she knew.
I think it made her feel worse. She finally sat back on her heels, her face a puffy, teary mess. Her hair was plastered to her head with sweat. I had never seen her look so beautiful.
I took her two hands and held them in mine. She almost broke down again. She knew a `we have to talk' moment when she saw one.
"Did you dance well, Sally?" I used her name. That shook her, too.
"N-n-no. But I tried... Master?" She ended with a question, not knowing how to address me. I gave her a wan smile, not much comfort, even less help.
"Are you capable of dancing better?"
"Oh, yes! I just need to learn, and to practice. Maybe Bala...?" Her voice trailed off as she couldn't see where this was going.
"Do you think your dance pleased me?"
"I, I don't know. I tried to please you. I sensed you were pleased, but I also felt that you were trying very hard not be displeased. I danced so badly, though, how could you have liked it?"
"I liked it very much because it came from your heart, the heart of the one I love."
"But why...?" There were so many questions, she didn't know where to start. I decided to let her off the hook.
"Sally. I am a new Master. I can't `dance' very well yet, either, but I am willing to learn. Unlike you, I don't have Bala to teach me. I have to rely on you to help me. I am trying very hard, with all my heart, to be the Master you want me to be, to be the best Master I can be for you, and for Janey. I may do things awkwardly at first, but you must know my heart is always there for you.
"Please do not ever purposefully seek to extend a punishment again. I will try to provide you with ample discipline, if that is what you seek, what you need. I need to learn what I can give you first, how to `dance' to please you, before I can do the fancy steps. Agreed?"
Sally's eyes were closed, trying to hold back the tears. She nodded her heartfelt agreement.
"I will change so you can punish me now."
"The dance was your punishment."
"But...?"
"My Love, " she breathed a sigh of relief at her slave name, "we both know you would enjoy a spanking at my hand as much as your did, if not more. Not to make you feel worse than you do right now, but I think you need to know what I had planned before you decided to lengthen your return time. What I wanted to do was to warm your bottom to a sufficiently rosy hue, and then take you savagely over and over again until you cried `Uncle'. That is still something I plan to do every night, or as often as possible. But not tonight."
With a tiny wail, she brought her hand to her mouth to cut off her cry. She knew she had lost something special by trying to do it on her own. Failing to still her cries, she threw herself at my feet, her hair covering them. I could feel her tears of loss, remorse and sorrow dripping over them, washing over them. I let her cry herself out. Then I helped her up and led her down to our room.
I stripped her as I had Janey, gently and with worshipful adoration of her glorious body. I led her to the bathroom and left her to her nightly preparations. When she came back to bed, I laid her softly back against the pillows. I took her wrists and, with a single simple loop, tied them to the headboard. It was tied tight, but it was more symbolic than functional. A firm tug would loosen her wrists in the night, if necessary.
We cried together and came together as I made love to her that night, passionately, slowly and with ardor, over and over.
We both knew it would have been better the other way.
Chapter 29
Janey was calm the next morning as she came in to practice her fellatio. She had followed closely her mother's tortured emotions the night before over their link. She had not sensed any malicious intent on my part. She also knew I had forgiven her and that the incident was behind us.
I was still half-asleep when her hot mouth engulfed my limp dick. Janey had simply crawled in under the covers, nude, and gone about her business. God, could it get any better?
I turned to look at my bride-to-be and found she was already awake, quietly watching me wake up. We looked at each other in silence as her labored below. I watched for any signs of anger or jealousy, but there was only contentment. Even when she saw my pupils dilate and my nostrils flare as I filled that industrious tight hot mouth with my essence, there was only peace and pleasure at my release. I felt the two diamond hard points of Janey's nipples working their way up my chest. I turned to meet her mouth as she kissed me, my taste still predominant in her mouth.
"Morning. Morning, Mom." She saw Sally's wrists still tied to the headboard from the night before. She didn't seem to be alarmed or surprised. Seeing there was no rush, she kind of melted her fabulous body into mine. I was prepared for her to try to slip my cock into her slit, but she didn't try. I was surprised, and proud.
With her finger she reached over and traced the letter in medallion of Sally's collar. I think she was a little sad she didn't have hers, but she seemed resolved to let me set the pace. I know she was happy for her Mom.
I reached up and jerked the strap, freeing Sally. With a lascivious grin I ran my finger lightly over her bare pubic area. There was just the faintest hint of stubble, but that was all the excuse I needed. More than I needed. Janey was forgotten as my love and I headed for the bathroom.
At breakfast I informed Sally that I wanted her to set up a regular evening with Amud and Bala. Amud was a fascinating man, well versed in a broad range of political and financial topics and I found I looked forward to our discussions. He had expressed that he did as well. He and I could talk while the learned to dance and whatever else. Bala would also benefit from the relationship, as I was sure my would educate her on the American way of life. They liked Bala as much as I liked Amud.
Amud and Bala visited us on Friday. Much to Janey's elation, I let her wear her collar. Sally had called Cece to help with the preparations, so things were going smoothly. Bala, Sally and Janey disappeared behind the flap of the tent and we could hear them chatting noisily.
We didn't notice when it got quiet, but suddenly we heard Bala exclaim loudly. We both became alert at that and watched warily as Bala surged out of the woman's quarters, pulling a half-naked Sally behind her.
"Look! Look!" she shrilled.
Bala dragged Sally in front of Amud and bared her fabulous to his view. I say `dragged' more because I want to, rather than because Sally was resisting. She wasn't and that surprised me. I also found that her lack of resistance touched an explosive anger deep within me that I didn't know I had. I knew Bala had sort of dominated Sally before during the fittings, but I wasn't sure it still carried over. Apparently it had.
As I had been trained to do in highly charge emotional situations, I froze with a blank look on my face. My enemies, those few still living, know to fear that expression.
The whip marks I had made earlier in the week on Sally's lovely creamy white were healing nicely, but the marks were still clearly visible. In my jealous rage, I thought Amud's eyes would bug out of his head as he stared at those two whip-marked orbs, though in honesty, he tried hard to show a purely professional interest in them. He didn't quite succeed, but I later admitted his restraint. He was clearly uncomfortable and in an awkward situation. I saw him subtly shift his sitting position, trying to ease the pressure of his obvious erection.
Janey stood paralyzed in the doorway, forgotten for the moment. She had seen my face, and it terrified her. I could sense that over the link. She could feel my anger very clearly. What surprised me, as I later thought through all of this, was that Sally didn't sense it. It was my first indication that their `link' was imperfect and different for the two of them. Only certain things went between them, and they couldn't sense the same things in me. At the time, however, that didn't mean shit.
What angered me most was that Sally had gone completely submissive. Again. I recognized that at once. It had been a point of contention between us the last couple of nights as we talked in bed. I would remove her collar and she would protest, ending with her softly crying in the night beside me, her hot tears dripping on my chest as we cuddled. I could take a lot, but when she cried, well, what can I say? I let her tears influence me. OK, OK. So I gave in completely. Call me a wuss. You try it next time!
I tried to explain to her that I missed the `old' Sally. I told her what I had told Janey, that she wanted this too much and I didn't think she was ready. I knew I wasn't ready. She didn't care. She couldn't get enough collar time. She craved it after having done without for so long. She was like a kid with a sweet tooth locked in a candy store at night with no one else there. She was an addict, and it changed her. It scared the shit out of me.
I knew she thought she was trying to help me by being the perfect submissive, but unfortunately, I wasn't even close to being the perfect Master. It wasn't a `fit' that would work. I needed the love of my life to be the love of my life. I was willing to make changes, drastic ones to keep her, but I would not risk losing her.
I was caught on the horns of a dilemma, with both of my choices having a high probability of losing the type of relationship with Sally that I needed. It angered me that Sally now seemed to `go sub' with anyone to get her `fix', even another woman, in this case, Bala, the sub and of my friend. I didn't know or recognize at that time that women - and - could be either dominant or submissive. Or both or neither. Like I said, this was new to me.
Bala had been extolling the exquisiteness of the marks, going in detail about the strength and control each showed. She had Sally hold up her with her hands to Amud, putting them mere inches from his face. In my silent rage, I imagined his hot, fetid breath caressing those orbs as he leaned forward, drooling down his chin, soiling his expensive silken tie. In actuality, he could hardly breathe, he was so scared, and he moved away from the temptation, not toward Sally. I didn't care. I saw what I wanted to.
When Bala began touching Sally's tits, tracing the welts with the tips of her finger, making suggestive comments to Amud in their language, I thought Amud was going to come in his trousers. Sweat beaded his brow and I saw him clenching his fists and teeth, trying to maintain control. It was obvious however that he was extremely attracted to Sally and her tits. But I couldn't blame him for that. Sally was an exceedingly beautiful woman.
Janey finally reacted when Bala began fondling her Mom's breasts, pulling out on her turgid nipples, rolling them between her thumb and fingers. When Sally moaned in a small orgasm, Janey moved quietly from her frozen position at the door and insinuated herself between the other two women. That seemed to snap them out of whatever co-generated trance they were in. Bala suddenly realized the horrendous error she had made. In her excitement, she had gotten carried away. I knew she had a good heart and only the best intentions. Sometimes things don't cross the cultural lines that well, however.
Sally pulled her top back together, somewhat reluctantly, it seemed to me. She took her damn sweet time doing it. It took forever before that last peek-a- boo nipple finally bid us all adieu. She had denied that the humiliation Gary put her through had turned her on, but it was obvious from the hardness of those turgid points that she did not mind this mildly forced exhibition of her body. True, Amud and Bala were not strangers and she was not being humiliated, exactly.
As she was led back to the women's quarters by a frantic Janey, I saw her glance at the crotch of Amud's pants, checking to see if she had an effect on him. I don't know what it is about women that they get insecure at weird times. But to me, that glance was like pouring gasoline on a fire. Somehow I contained myself.
Bala, trying to make things better, threw herself down in front of my pillow. After several attempts to communicate, she finally said, in broken English, "You want more practice, use this worthless sperm catcher," and pointed to her own chest. She had the sense now to keep her own blouse closed.
Amud was even more embarrassed with that announcement, so much so that he seemed to have been distracted from his arousal at seeing Sally's bare chest. He explained that Bala, and he, were terribly embarrassed that they had unknowingly breached a cultural protocol. In their country, these things were accepted. In fact, Bala was complimenting me on my quick learning of the handling of the whip. My anger and displeasure was apparent to all but Sally. His words helped, and though not abated, my anger moved from the front to the back of my mind, until it could be thoroughly and properly vented. As will happen with good friends, the evening continued and the events were ignored, if not forgotten.
We bid them good-bye, with both of them still acutely chagrined at what had happened. Sally and I both reassured them that we wanted to see them next week, and not to worry about it. We watched their limo drive off. We stood there in silence, both dreading the return to our lives, but for different reasons. Janey had filled Sally in on my reaction, and when attuned to it Sally was able to pick it up on her link as well.
The storm clouds erupted as soon as the door closed. Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled. I was in a rage. I bellowed and yelled. I thrashed and banged around. This is all very difficult to do when you don't move a muscle or make a sound.
I don't recall ever having been so angry in my entire life. Not when a South American Colonel wanted me to remain against my will in his establishment. Not when I had seen the photos of Gary touching and 11 year-old Janey. Not even at Steven, the who attacked Janey. Never! I shook. I literally shook with the internal tension.
My fury was palpable and must have been clear over the link, as Sally and Janey followed me to the cellar without a word, without protest. I stripped both of them without preamble, Janey, too. I wasn't thinking clearly. I knew it, but at the moment, I didn't care. I was angry, mad, furious, and I wanted satisfaction. I wanted to hit something, hard. I wanted someone else to feel the pain I was feeling.
I tied both of them up, hanging them from the chains attached to the joists. I didn't even protect the tender skin around their wrists as I hoisted them off the ground, their feet several inches from the cold concrete. They dangled there, swaying slightly, delicious targets for my anger.
I was in a foul mood and I was in dangerous territory. I knew if I started on Sally, I would regret it. Janey, innocent Janey, had been a non-participant in the events of the evening that brought us to the cellar. I had no cause to her, and even in my rage I knew I couldn't bear to raise my hand against her.
I went to the wall and selected the thong Bala had given me. She had used it on Janey before. It was soft and supple, almost like a feather when it slapped against my palm. It would take a lot to her with this, and that was not my intent. I walked over to where she was hanging, waiting quietly for me. The tensions were ripping through her tender teen body, leaving her panting in the cool cellar air. Just before I started to vent my anger on her, I remembered the gag Bala had used. I lifted it to her. She shook her head, no.
I raised my hand to strike her. Her quiet acceptance of what I was about to do, even with the lightest possible of implements, pierced my rage like a rapier. I stood there for an eternity, my arm upraised, then turned and left the dungeon.
I went jogging, running. I left them hanging while I beat up my own body. Although I keep in shape, jogging has never been one of my preferred exercises. I find it masochistic. I think it's great if you like it but my body strongly objects, both during and after when I jog.
I don't recall how far I ran. It was late when I returned to the cellar to check on my girls. The pounding of the pavement had vented the most of my anger and I felt more in control. Maybe there was something to this running stuff after all.
I let Janey down and carried her up to her bed. She had been hanging for hours, senselessly. Though she had been brave and accepting, she must have been terrified. Tenderly I wiped her fevered, sweaty brow with a cool towel, cooing to her, cuddling her to my sweaty chest. She woke up briefly and cocked her head, as if trying to feel something. She smiled wanly up at me, sensing that I was back in control of myself. She was asleep before I left her.
I reached around to loosen her collar and she cried out in her sleep. Even in the face of my anger, she wanted to keep her collar. I understood she was not ready to let go of this yet.
I tried to calm myself, convince myself that my anger was gone. It wasn't, but I had it under control. The rage I had felt had dissipated. I slipped back down to the cellar. Looking at my love's beauty soothed me as cool water.
Sally tried to speak. I silenced her with the doped gag Amud had given us. I hoped that whatever that sauce did would be enough to get her though the night. Her tears soaked into the leather of the band as I tightened it around her head, pulling the gag in as far as it could go.
Blindly, without forethought, I went to the wall with the whips. I picked up the one I thought would the most, yet not kill her. It was a vicious horsewhip, not designed for human flesh at all. The horrible lash could rip skin from the bone if used carelessly or in anger.
I started in on Sally with no warm-up. I was not gentle. This was not for her pleasure. Or mine. She could not respond. I did not want her to. I could hear her muffled cries behind the gag, but I did not care. I was walking a dark path with jealousy and rage the only guideposts I could see in the darkness. They were dangerous guideposts in unfamiliar territory.
I yelled, I cursed, I cried. I told her of the heartache I had felt when she submitted, however innocently, to another hand. I told her how angry I had been with her actions, her non-selective submissiveness. I told her how close I had come to striking Janey in anger, and why I could not. I told her I never, ever wanted to strike either of them in anger. I told her she was the light of my life, my reason for being. I told Sally over and over that I loved her, would always love her, regardless. I ranted and raved, cried and wept until I could not, then I simply sobbed, holding her hanging body in my arms, until I could no longer find any hint of anger within me.
Stepping back from her, I dropped the whip on the ground, unused, having never lifted it against her. I stepped up to her and thrust my iron hard prick into her depths. She was not well lubricated, but not bone dry, either. Yelling is not a particularly good form of foreplay, regardless of its popularity. My entry filled her, supported her and helped ease the stress on her arms.
I had the sense to wait for her to secrete enough fluids so that I wouldn't rip her apart when I moved. She was whimpering softly behind her gag. I moved my face next to hers as I felt her finally begin to lubricate.
"Sally!" She opened her eyes.
I thrust in sharply. "I..."
I thrust again. "...am..."
And again. "...your..." This word was said with particular emphasis.
Once more. "...Master!"
Her eyes widened a she heard what I was saying, and understood why I was displeased with her. She had submitted to another, a Mistress. She had been exposed, vulnerable to another man. It was a habit, she was a submissive. I was going to break her of that, if at all possible. She was mine.
I repeated my emphatic message to her, one word per stroke. And again. And again. Over and over I drove that message into her. Her eyes never left mine, their sadness at her failure to please me overwhelming. In the end I shot my seed into her and held her tight. After a time, my softening prick pulled free and I heard the plop of dripping spattering on the cool cellar floor. I'm not sure, but I don't think she climaxed at all that night, even with the doped gag.
I left her hanging there all night, gagged, suffering, unfulfilled. It was probably the only time in her life she had had sex with a lover and didn't climax. Then again, I hadn't entered her as a lover, but as a Master. I lay down on one of the cots along the wall close to her but out of her sight. I didn't sleep.
In the morning I let her down. Slowly, carefully I helped her up to our bathroom and prepared a steaming whirlpool. She refused to let me put her in until she had prostrated herself at my feet. Her hand slipped up to feel her neck, to see if my collar was still there. She cried out in relief when she felt it was still there.
"Master. You are my Master." She repeated that over and over, sometimes sobbing, sometimes almost singing it, as if to herself. She hugged herself to my feet.
Finally, I reached down and touched her collar. I slipped my finger in between it and her neck. The extra tension caused it to choke her, cutting off her air and the blood flow. I lifted her to her feet, her face to mine. She did not struggle.
"You are mine. Only mine."
She nodded, keeping her eyes to the floor.
"Sally? My Love?"
She looked up when I said her name. I think my voice quivered. I know my hand was shaking. I drowned in those beautiful eyes. Her gaze did not hold the terror for me I had expected. To be honest, I wasn't sure what I had expected to see in those sparkling green eyes of hers. Hate? To be sure. Terror? Certainly. Or maybe I'd see just a dull stare, an indication that the life had been beaten out of her, her spirit broken.
I didn't expect to see what I saw: love, respect, hope. Sure, a little fear and pain, but nothing like what I'd expected. If I hadn't believed in the link thing before, I did now. Only by her knowing my heart last night could she have understood. I would probably never know for sure, but then, she was full of surprises. It was one of the main reasons I loved her so deeply. It also made what I was going to say trite. She already knew it before I voiced it.
I said it anyway. "You are forgiven. This incident is forgotten." That being understood, I unlocked her collar and took it off her neck. Her punishment and my anger were behind us.
I helped her into the whirlpool. The hot, swirling waters began the slow healing process that would last a long time, long after the visible marks on her wrists had faded.
Sally stayed in bed for two days. The experience had exhausted her more than I realized. I pampered her, tending to her heartaches and pains. Janey tried once to help but Sally and I both refused her help. This was my responsibility. I didn't keep them apart, as she wasn't sick, so they chatted and talked, Janey sitting on the end of the bed. Sally never mentioned what they talked about, but I don't think it was about what happened that night.
Sally and I talked, too. I think she finally understood how scared I was of what she was becoming. She admitted she didn't want to be the perfect slave, it was just, well, so alluring. Several things had gone on in her life lately that made the escape into that life comforting to her. The attack on Janey was not the first thing that had turned her life upside down. The first thing that had happened was me. Her feelings for me were so strong that they frightened her. She had never felt like this before. As frightened as I was of losing her, she was petrified I would go away and leave her life empty of all meaning. It was a new feeling for her, even at her age.
My introduction of bondage into the relationship during the bet had thrown her for another loop. I hadn't known what I was doing, really, but didn't mention that. I had been desperate. Then she had lost the bet. LOST! Not that she minded, given that she now had my ring on her finger, or soon would, but it planted a seed of doubt if she would be able to control me later on. It had really rattled her, even though, as the strength of my link grew, she realized how focused and controlled I could be.
So it went. We talked, we cried, we made love. We fucked savagely, the passions still raging in both of us now. Our emotions were raw and open. In the end, if you could call it that, we came to an understanding. I was the Master. Sally would be, at all times, my love. Only when the collar was on would I tolerate submissive behavior in her, however. Without the collar, she was commanded to act normal, my `old' Sally. As twisted as this sounds, it worked for us. She could be submissive to my wishes at all times, even when not acting like it.
I didn't even pretend to understand.
Chapter 30
Time marched on. The weekly visits from Amud and Bala resumed without further incident. Janey wore her collar occasionally, even skipping some weekends she was entitled to wear it. Her social life was picking back up and she was just too busy to be tied up all weekend, pun intended.
Sally started getting back to normal, too. Thank God! Although I don't think Janey appreciated it. Getting back to normal meant that she now had time to focus on her daughter's life, not just her own submissiveness. I heard the two of them more and more, chatting, laughing, chiding and chaffing; just normal parent- teenager stuff.
At one point Sally even enlisted my help. After her last request for my help, she had tended to take things having to do with Janey on herself, especially lately. She seemed determined to show me that things were back to normal. I just grinned and let her for the most part, mainly because teenagers were aliens as far as I was concerned, and the females of that species were as perplexing as human females. It was also good for Sally to know that she could do it herself.
This time, however, Sally was beyond herself. Janey had been coming home late from school. Nothing unusual so far, as she often had activities after school. Her cheerleading coach had called and asked where Janey was, as she had taken a leave from the squad for the entire basketball season. Nothing surprising there, given what had happened. Then there was her refusal to tell Sally what was going on, why she was late. OK, that was unusual, as were the tears and rips, crudely mended, in some of her gym clothing. She was also spending a lot of time in the whirlpool after school, alone.
Nothing Sally did convinced Janey to talk. Threats, promises, bribes to her friends, talks with the teachers, nothing. It didn't sound too serious to me, but to keep Sally happy, I decided to look into it. Sally made me promise to be discrete. What? Me? Heavy-handed?
It took several days, but I found out what Janey was doing after school. I couldn't believe it, but she was practicing with the boy's wrestling team. For a while I thought she was just hanging around trying to get a cute boy's attention - as if she needed to do that! But she went through all the drills with the team, and even scrimmaged with the others in her weight class. She lost, but she didn't do badly. Like her mother, she was a scrapper.
OK. I knew what. But why? No amount of digging revealed that to me. I kept at it for several weeks, during which time I didn't say a word to either of them. Janey went to practice everyday and, as I watched her covertly, got better, much better, to the point where she finally won a spot on the roster.
The day the roster was posted, I was waiting for Janey outside the girl's locker room door. Her expression was priceless, much like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, but not knowing how she was found out.
"Uh, Hi, Dad. Just driving by?" she asked hopefully.
"Nope."
"Oh. Is everything OK at home? Did send you to pick me up?" She tried to sound worried, but didn't succeed.
"Nope."
"Oh." She was silent for while. "You know?"
"Yep."
"Does know?" I could tell she dreaded that for some reason.
"Nope..."
Her head whipped up to look at me at that. Hope flooded the car like a gully washer.
"...not yet."
"Oh, please Dad," she pleaded, "Don't tell her. Please!"
"Tell me something, kiddo." I turned to look at her. "Why?"
"Why what?"
"Why wrestling? Is it a guy? Don't we give you enough affection at home? Why?"
Janey was so cute when she blushed and giggled. Damn, she was beautiful! Who was I kidding? "Oh, Daaaad."
I felt like I finally belonged to that great and honorable club of patriarchs. I had just exasperated my teenager and been addressed in the proper fashion.
"Well?"
She looked at me, now thoroughly exasperated. I wanted an answer from her and wasn't going to take a cutesy blush as a diversion. It almost worked, though.
"It's hard to explain."
"Try me."
"It started as a dare."
Oh, shit. I shuddered when I remembered some of the things I had heard about - and participated in - that started out with a dare. Mrs. Johnson would never be the same after waking up with 25 naked and very obviously horny teenaged in her bedroom. Well, she was to us. 25 is a lot than 16...
"I see. Who dared you?"
"Well, that's where it's confusing. I guess I sort of did myself. You see, there was this cute guy..."
I knew it!
"...and he was, well, there was an argument about how tough wrestling was and that's how come there weren't any on the team. I sort of got volunteered to make the team if I could."
"Oh, a challenge, not a dare." I felt slightly better, but not much. I remembered some challenges I had participated in, too, mostly having to do with bare chests at sub-zero temperature football games in college.
"Yeah, I talked it over with the men's coach and he said OK, as long as I had triple protection over my, you know," she indicated her crotch, " and a double strength athletic bra. I talked to the women's gym teacher - she thought I was crazy - and she helped me get all that stuff.
"You know, wrestling's tough!" she ended.
"But you made the roster for the next match! Aren't you excited?"
"Geeze, Dad. What do you do? Know everything?"
"Only about the people I care about," I kidded. "Seriously, your was concerned and asked me to look into it. I did."
"It was nice to make the roster. I earned it, too. But I'm not too thrilled about my first match. I have to wrestle the defending State Champ, probably twice."
"Twice?"
"It's a double-elimination with four schools. You have to lose twice to be out. I'm the only other one entered in the weight class, so the rules say we have to wrestle twice."
Something in her voice didn't sound right. "What's the problem?"
"Oh, it's nothing. Just I heard when he found out he might have to wrestle a girl, he made some pretty rude comments about what he would do to me." She started to cry, little tears trickling down her face.
"You want me to stop your match?"
She shook her head. "No. I know it must be strange for him, you know? But why can't he just fight me like a guy. I mean, I know I'm not a guy, but dang it Dad, why are some such big assholes?"
Now, how often do you get `dang it' and `asshole' from your little in the same sentence? She was serious, too! It was, however, an eternal question. I didn't know the answer, and knew if I said anything, she would know I didn't know. I said nothing.
We drove home in silence her only request was that I not let Sally know. I told her I couldn't promise to do that. I felt it was her Mom's right to know about this. But I told her I wouldn't spoil her match.
Friday night came. Janey didn't come home as it was an away match at one of the other schools. I handed Sally a big shopping bag and told her we were going out for the evening. She started to open the bag, but I stopped her. What was in the bag was for later.
It was unusual for us to go out, so she was excited. I think she was curious when I headed for a small town about 25 miles away and not our usual bistro. I kept up a banal line of chatter for the hour drive, not letting on what was up.
The fare at the local diner was a disappointment, but the company was excellent. I think Sally felt the same way too, but now she was more curious than ever. She dropped hints, finally asking me point blank. I ignored both the hints and the direct hints. As 7:30 approached I handed her the bag and told her she'd better get ready.
Her face was a study in perplex ion as she pulled out a big floppy hat, an over-sized pair of sunglasses and a bulky shapeless overcoat. I had her put them all on - she was surprised she got to keep her other clothes on, I think - and we headed back to the car. She was even more puzzled when we pulled into the crowded high school parking lot. I don't know if she noticed the big yellow bus from Janey's high school in the lot, but I parked right next to it.
The gym was a cacophony of noise as we entered as the early matches already underway. Behind her sunglasses I could see her questioning eyes darting around trying to discover what we were doing at a high school wrestling match. I could tell to the millisecond when she spotted Janey. I still have the bruises on my arm to prove it.
"You knew what she was doing all along?"
"Kind of."
"Kind of? What the Hell does that mean?"
"Well, I knew what she was doing, just not why."
"Oh."
I was amazed to get away with that simple of an answer. Sally knew my inquisitive nature. She knew of my protective instincts and the honor code I lived by. If Janey had asked me not to tell, I wouldn't, if I could. I had known and that's all that mattered. If Janey had been in trouble, I would have intervened. Sally had asked for my help, after all.
"Well, you could at least have told me...."
I was going to hear about this for a long time, I could tell.
They called Janey's match. It was painful to watch. The kid she fought really was good, but, as she had said, he was an asshole. He toyed with her. He never quite did anything inappropriate, but I could tell towards the end that the referees were beginning to watch where he put his hands on her body. He pinned her with 7 seconds remaining in the last period. Like a trouper, Janey shook his hand - after his coach made the asshole come back out onto the mat - then she made her way back to her school's bench.
Her team did her proud. There were consoling "tough match" comments and "he's a jerk" a couple of times. They didn't treat her any differently than they would another guy. She held her head up proudly. She had fought hard, the best she could and she hadn't quit, she had just been terribly out-classed by a better athlete. I saw her shoulders start to slump forward in despair, then pull back in fierce determination. She wasn't going to quit now, either.
I looked over at Sally in her anonymous getup. Covered up the way she was, Janey would never have to know she had been here if we didn't tell her. She looked at me. We nodded at the same time at the same thought. It was time to intervene, a parent's prerogative. I was giddy with excitement. My first parental intervention! OK, not exactly giddy...
First thing I did was wander over to her coach. I got his attention and introduced myself.
"Can you get her to forfeit the second match, Coach?"
He looked at me as if I was loony. "Janey? Quit? Are we talking about the same kid here?"
I grinned back at him, "Just checking. Sometimes teachers have more influence than adults at home."
"I could refuse to let her fight."
Grinning like an idiot, I shook my head. "Nah, I have a better plan. This is what I want you to do..." He nodded his head as he listened and even made a couple of suggestions of his own when he saw where it was headed.
Phase one completed, I initiated phase two. I recruited another of one of the kids on Janey's team and took him with me. The coach had introduced us and told him a little of the plan. I finished briefing him as we made our way over to a spot behind the kid she had just fought. We just stood there for a while until the Emergency Medical Response Team showed up. Someone had placed an anonymous call to their office.
"Thank God, they finally got here," I said loudly, pointing them out. "I was really concerned about that poor kid who had to fight that crazy girl. You remember what happened the last time someone got her mad, don't you?"
The other chimed in, right on queue, "You mean that poor bastard who lost his nuts when she kicked him in the groin. I heard the surgeon said they looked like applesauce."
"Yeah, that one. Well, at least the EMRT ambulance is outside now. If there's another incident, maybe this kid won't lose both balls."
The other piped up again, "What do you mean `if'? God, look at that kick! I tell you, she's crazy when she's mad!"
Just then Janey was going through the unusual warm up routine the coach had told her to do. She would stutter step in a crouch like a linebacker, turning around in a complete circle. When facing her opponent across the gym, she would come out with a hoarse, fierce sounding scream. Then, pointing her finger at the kid, she kicked her leg as hard and high as she could. She did this routine four or five times. On the last couple of kicks, the upward force of her leg flipped her over so that she landed on her stomach, a three quarter backward somersault.
To say she had the attention of everyone in the audience, including this poor kid, was to state the obvious. Her last kick was spectacular. She did a complete back flip, landing on her feet and ended up facing the kid. Then with both index fingers pointed at him, she screamed in mock rage. As a psych-out move, it was very convincing, but still, I was counting on the kid not being too bright.
I made my way back to Sally as they called Janey's second match. As I sat down, she just shook her head, shaking in laughter as Janey charged up to the mat. She didn't look like a loser this time. The first round started with them standing. The kid was still cocky, but a little jumpy. He took Janey down easily enough right away, but amazingly she escaped on her own. She was pumped, too.
Just as she got free from him, she started that stutter step routine she had been doing in her warm up, only this time, instead of turning in a circle, she circled him. In his attempt to keep her in front of him, he turned with her. At one point he stumbled. It was the opening she was looking for. At that moment when he was off balance, she pointed at him, screamed a blood- curdling war cry and started to bring her foot up off the ground in a straight-legged kick.
The poor kid never knew what hit him, which was nothing. He was so psyched out, he instinctively slammed both of his hands over his jewels and screamed along with her. Janey changed the upward movement of her kick and took him down with a basic leg sweep. She had him pinned before he realized he was still intact and unharmed. The referee and the audience were still laughing when Janey leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. Apparently, there is some arcane rule about wrestlers kissing during a wrestling meet, so even though she had won the second match, Janey was disqualified from a third match. She didn't care.
It was the only match the kid lost all season, and everywhere he went later on that year, his opponents would grab their balls and fall on the ground screaming during their warm ups. I hope he learned something from it all. He did show some potential as a human being, because after the match he came over and apologized to all of us, especially Janey, for his behavior during their first fight. I think he even asked her out, which she graciously turned down. The lucky bastard did get another kiss out of it, though.
For us, it was the end of Janey's wrestling career, so don't look for her on the WWF. It did change a couple of things around the house, however. Watching Janey practice with those made me realize she wasn't the fragile little blossom I sometimes let myself believe. I mean, I know and women are as tough as men, maybe not always as strong, but they certainly are as tough physically. Its just, well, I tend to try to protect them from the hard things in life. Call it macho if you will, but it seems to be an instinctual type thing that's easy to fall into. That they - women - often encourage that behavior doesn't help, either.
Anyway, I decided to take advantage of Janey's athletic bent and started initiating more activities that involved bodily contact, like one-on-one basketball, rough-housing on rainy days, tag football with some other fathers and daughters. Things like that. Non- sexual solid body contact sports. We even got Sally involved, and it became a regular outing for us.
The other thing that changed was that the at her school, having seen her attitude at the wrestling match about the attack on her, suddenly decided she wouldn't castrate them if they dated her. Our house became Hormone Central in a short time, as her suitors hung out. With all that energy sitting around wasting, I started organizing 2-on-2 and 3-on-3 basketball games. Soon, our house was the center of the pick-up games, with Janey always playing. Other girls, jealous at first, started coming over. When they saw they could get a good feel of the guy's bodies for the price of playing, they joined in. I've noticed it's hard to be jealous and sweaty at the same time. Granted, there was a lot more close man-to-man, so to speak, defense going on than necessary during the games, but occasionally the ball would be tossed in the general direction of the hoop. I don't recall the kids ever keeping score, however.
The kids even asked Sally and me to join in sometimes to make even teams. Sally played hard and kind of dirty, copping feels of the every chance she got. When the found that they could grab back without her protesting, she became a regular. I particularly liked it when I got to guard her. I was sore for days from her elbows in my ribs and elsewhere, but, God, the sex that night would be great.
That was the way things were going. Janey was well on her way to recovery. I hoped I had played a small part in that even if it was somewhat unorthodox. Sally seemed happy and active. We kept some time reserved for just us. She needed the submissive time now that it was possible, and I came to treasure those days almost as much as when she was `normal.' I began to see `my' Sally in both sides of her, one merging with the other. It came to be much less of a shock to me to see her in her submissive role. As I became more comfortable with that, those times together with her being submissive became more frequent. Still not as often as she liked, but I think she appreciated them more when she had to wait.
Janey would join us most times, usually for a portion of the evening. However, as there was always a strong sexual content to these times, she would only be able to participate to a certain point. Sometimes things would get too intense for her, and she would ask to be released from her collar, but later on I would have to be the one to tell her to go. She was not voyeuristic, mind you, she was an active participant in the activities but I wasn't ready to have sexual intercourse with her just yet.
She complained it was unfair to get her all hot and bothered and then turn her out. I retorted that life was unfair, so shove it or something else up there. Not my best retort, but given the fact that I had her Mom's permission to fuck her, and that I wanted to, and that she wanted me to, I wasn't thinking all that clearly. I just needed her out of the reach of my throbbing cock before I started thinking with the wrong head. We both knew it could still happen that we would have sex. I just wanted to wait for exactly the right time, and I didn't want her first time to be when she was submissive. Or maybe I was just still afraid I would lose Sally if I actually did it with Janey. I usually ended up restraining her in her bed with some of the Rosen's toys to keep her quiet, if not happy.
Chapter 31
During this time we had been ignoring the symphony concerts for the most part. There had been other concerts since that first one, but none by composers either of us wanted to hear. The second major concert of interest in the symphony season was at the mid- point. This one had some pieces by one of my favorite composers and I announced that we would be going. I gave them two weeks notice.
Again, as before, the packages from The Guild began arriving in sealed boxes shortly after my announcement. Whether they wanted to go hear the concert or not, they wanted to go just to see what was in the golden boxes.
The day of the concert started early. This time the two women knew what to expect and they fully enjoyed the pampering and primping that was done to them. By the time the last technician was done, they were about as on edge as I had seen them.
I smiled at Sally standing there in her short silk robe. I handed her a set of headphones and a new CD along with a steaming cup of her favorite tea. Gleefully she curled up in the over-stuffed chair in my office and went off into her own world. I could tell she was curious about what I was going to do to Janey, but she knew I treated the two of them differently.
I led Janey into her room. She was so excited I thought she would burst. When I selected the first box and handed it to her, she even squealed. Opening the box she saw a jeweled collar similar to the one her had worn to the first concert. She looked up at me, eyes sparkling.
"I know you're curious about the other boxes, Janey, but I thought you should know that the Collar Rules will apply tonight. If you don't want to wear your collar, that's perfectly OK. I want you to know that. Half of these boxes are just in case you don't want to wear it tonight."
"Do I still get to keep all the presents?" Typical female.
"Yes," I grinned.
"Wow! Dad, it's beautiful!"
"So are you, Janey. I noticed you haven't been wearing the collar every chance you get, and I just wanted to make sure it's OK with you now."
"I was kind of looking forward to it, Sensei. These nights are always so special, and," she grinned impishly, "I don't just mean the presents. I was hoping you'd think of it, too." With that, she slipped to her knees and offered me the gift of her collar. She must have been practicing with her mother, because the gracefulness of her offering was exactly the same. I fastened the collar and helped her stand.
I slipped off the silk robe she had on and stood back, admiring her naked body. She was much more comfortable with her nudity now, and reveled in my admiration of her beauty. I went over and selected a second box, the largest of the ones she would get tonight. She opened it and gasped.
She pulled out an exquisite corset of deceptively sturdy manufacture. It felt light as a feather, but I had been reassured by the designers that the material was strong and that there was no give in it.
Janey stepped into the garment and pulled it up. "Oh, God!"
I grinned. I knew what she was thinking. It didn't cover a thing. The top of the corset rested snuggly under her youthful tits. The bottom barely touched the top of her trimmed pubic patch.
I had her lean over, her arms braced on her vanity table, while I cinched down her waist. As this was her first corset, it wasn't as restrictive as the ones she would be able to get into later, when her body had adapted. I pulled the drawstrings as tight as they would go, tied them off and then zipped up the heavy- duty zipper. The zipper gave the garment a finished, smooth look from the rear.
"Am I supposed to be able to breathe in this thing?" she said, turning to me.
"Dunno," I grinned at her. "But who cares, really. Look in the mirror and see what it does for your tits. God, Cricket, you're beautiful!"
She turned, and saw what I meant. The gleam in her eyes told me she liked what she saw, too. She ran her hands up over her cinched waist and ended with them cupping her breasts. Her eyes closed and she shuddered as a minor tremor swept through her.
I pointed to the remaining boxes, kissed her lightly - copping a feel or two as I did - and left to get her mother ready.
I walked in a bit ahead of schedule. I took the opportunity to drink in the beauty of my love. I hadn't had much time lately to observe her unobserved. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the music. Her empty teacup was cradled in her hands. She looked very happy.
She cracked one eye open when the CD was done. "That was nice. Thank you, Master. I hope you didn't wait long."
I grinned like a schoolboy at her sitting there. I almost hated to ruin that picture, but there was more to do tonight. I offered her my hand and she took it, smiling back at me.
I led her to our room. I took her jeweled collar from her jewelry box and handed it to her. Immediately she knelt down and offered me her collar, which I locked around her neck. I took her hand and helped her stand.
I left her standing there and went in to get Janey. She was just finishing inserting all the Rosen's gadgets. It still embarrassed her to have someone watch her put them in, so I usually let her do it herself. She looked flushed, the corset adding extra pressure and making it harder for her to bend.
I took the last remaining items, a pair of high-heeled boots made of the softest leather, and slipped them onto her feet. I probably touched her more than was necessary zipping them up, but she didn't protest. From her moans and sighs, I would say just the opposite. She just grinned at me when she saw how tall the heels were. By now she knew of my penchant for my ladies to wear very high heels, so these were not a surprise to her. I helped her walk back to where Sally was waiting.
"Oh, my!" was all Sally said when Janey appeared.
Sally looked around for her boxes and realized there was only one on the bed. I picked it up and handed it to her with a grand flourish. She tried not to look hurt, but she didn't quite succeed. That all changed when she opened it. She reached in and pulled out a white leather riding crop. It was stiffer than any we had in our collection.
I pulled a silk cord out of my pocket. I turned her around and bound her wrists behind her back. I placed the crop in her hands.
"Don't lose that, my Love, or there will be Hell to pay."
While she was standing I had her stand with her legs about shoulder width apart. I personally inserted the Rosen's little devices in her. Sally didn't like them as much as Janey, she said they took too much control from her. They made her feel too good and they frightened her. She was trembling when I finished securing the earring posts through her pierced ears. I sat her down and slipped a pair of hose on her legs, then a pair of extremely high heels. She was flushed and radiant.
I took another cord from my pocket and motioned for Janey to turn around. I tied her wrists together as well, and led both of them to the front door. There I placed the green cape around Sally's nude form and snapped the closures down the front. I pulled out another blue cape for Janey and slipped it around her shoulders.
The limo was waiting, so we exited the house and drove to the concert hall. I made sure we had the same excellent driver. Since Janey was not my `date' this evening, both my slaves had `equal' status. I quickly realized that both were very greedy when it came to having possession of my cock in their mouth. It became a near ugly contest very quickly, with Janey holding her own.
I pulled Sally to me and kissed her deeply. As I expected, Janey swooped down and took possession of my swollen prick. "Let the youth do the work, dearest," I whispered to her alone. Sally giggled as I slipped my hand inside her cape and took possession of one of her fine breasts. We made out like teenagers for the rest of the trip.
The driver gave us the two-minute warning by flicking the dome lights as she approached the concert hall. As mine were the only hands free, I closed up my fly. Janey actually groaned as it disappeared.
I helped both women out of the car, much to Sally's surprise. She started to walk behind me, as she had at the first concert, but I would have none of that. I took both of them by their cape-covered elbows and guided them up the steps and to our box seats.
The arrangements were similar to last time, but there was only one chair flanked on both sides by padded prayer benches for the to kneel upon.
As I settled them onto their knees I held the remote controls that ran their devices where they could see them. As I pushed each button, I showed them. By the second button they knew what to expect and their eyes got wider as I methodically turned on each device they were wearing to a moderate level.
Sally was sweating immediately and, after seeking my permission with a questioning look, gasped through the first of her many climaxes that night. I knew they didn't really appreciate my favorite music, but maybe in time they would learn to have whole new appreciation for it. It would certainly be fun to try.
As the orchestra finished its tuning and warm ups, I leaned back and prepared to enjoy the music. I nudged the remotes up as the first bombastic notes filled the concert hall. I don't think either Janey or Sally heard a single note. I nudged the remotes up another notch as each selection began. Sally groaned with a mixture of terror and pleasure as each piece ended. Janey just knelt there, a glazed look of bliss on her face. I could sense she was riding wave after wave of pleasure. She wasn't fighting it like her was and her enjoyment was palpable.
Intermission came and I turned their units off. They needed a break. Janey wasn't pleased with the absence of the stimulation, but grinned at me after her little pout. I helped her to her feet, then turned to help Sally stand. Janey wandered towards the front of the box and was looking down over the audience. I was embracing Sally, feeling her fabulous ass beneath her cape.
Suddenly, it was like a flash of lightning stuck both Sally and I. We looked at each other, then turned to Janey. She was ashen and swaying like she was going to fall. Her eyes were fixed on a point down below us.
I sat Sally down on her bench, then went calmly over to Janey. I helped her back from the edge of the box and sat her in my chair, away from the prying eyes below. There was no need to look at what had frightened her. I knew without looking. Sally knew. I looked just to be sure. I was right.
Gary was back in town.
Chapter 32
When Janey was seated, I went back to the edge of the box. I motioned for Sally to come up behind me, to use my body as shield from being seen by anyone below us who happened to look up. She understood and stood just off my shoulder.
Gary was not hard to pick out. He, too, had two beautiful women with him. They were as dark and tan as Sally and Janey were and fair. Upon closer inspection, one was much younger than the other. Another mother-daughter pair, I bet myself.
"I-I-I know her," came the quiet voice from behind me. Janey had come up and stood, like her mother, behind me, using my body as a shield. "She's new to my school, a year younger. She has an accent."
I watched him. He was cocky, confident, and sure of himself. He obviously dominated the female and enjoyed terrorizing her by fondling the younger woman in public. His hands roamed the girl's body freely and nearly obscenely, causing more than one matronly gasp from the staid bystanders. The stood meekly, eyes pleading. Strangely, the was passive, not reacting at all, as if she were a mannequin.
I don't know what it was or if we all came to the same conclusion at once, but one moment I was standing there despising that and the next I was on the telephone. I set in motion an information machine I hadn't often used since I left the government's service. It would take a few hours, but by then I would know all there was to know about the named `Gary'.
We left at the beginning of the second set. I called the driver as we left the box. The car was waiting as we exited the building, the driver holding open the rear door. The drive home was silent and uneventful, each of us lost in our own thoughts. Janey revived sooner than Sally and I soon felt her steamy mouth capture the head of my cock as she knelt down at my feet. I caressed her smooth cheek as she lay her head on my lap.
Her playfulness remained as we returned home. I'm not sure if that was because she remembered my promise from the last time or if she just figured that if both Sally and myself were worried about Gary, she didn't need to be. With both of us on the case, it was bound to turn out right, right? Ah, the innocent trust of the na‹ve.
Inside the door, I relieved both of them of their capes, exposing their beautiful bodies to my gaze. I took the crop from Sally's hands and playfully swatted her naked charms, teasing her with light to moderate snaps on her very sensitive areas. She started to move around the room and I followed her, finally finessing her down the hallway and into our bedroom. There I delivered a couple of harder swats to her ass, raising her temperature several degrees. I laid the crop on the makeup bench and turned her to me. Her eyes were snapping, all thoughts of that ugly pushed to the side.
I made her kneel in front of that bench and face the crop. Her hands were still tied behind her. "Stay here, please," I asked/ordered her. Then I left the room
Janey was waiting impatiently, shifting from one booted foot to the other. She was not facing the door I came through so I was able to watch for several minutes before she turned and saw me looking at her. Unlike her mother, Janey blushed a deep, deep shade of as she realized I had just been standing there looking at her nakedness. It made her seem all that more innocent and alluring.
I took her elbow and led her to her own room. She got suddenly shy and lagged a bit behind. I stopped leading her and quietly took her and held her in my arms.
"Afraid?"
She shook her head.
"What, then?"
"I don't know. I, I just don't know if I'm ready for this."
"Ready for what?" I teased.
"You know, for- for- it."
"Oh."
She was silent for a while, then with all the enthusiasm of a kid who hadn't studied for an exam she was about to take, led me into her room. She lay down on her bed and awkwardly spread her legs. God, she was beautiful!
"Now what?" I asked her.
"Huh?"
"Now what?" I repeated.
"Aren't you going to, you know, do me now?"
"No."
She looked stunned, then slowly closed her legs in embarrassment. "No?"
"No."
"But you promised. You said..."
"I said that next time it was your turn." I sat down on the bed next to her.
"Right. I thought..."
"Cricket? Who's in charge here?"
Her slave name brought her up short. "Oh. Right. You are, Sensei."
She lay in shivering disappointment as I removed the various gadgets from her. Tears began flowing silently as I unzipped and removed her soft leather boots. It wasn't until I had her second wrist secured to her headboard by the straps I had installed earlier that she realized that something was going to happen. She almost choked on her sob of relief.
I waited until she was breathing normally then patted her on her legs, indicating for her to spread them again. This was a touchy time. The last time someone had been between them had been traumatic for her. I wondered if she would do it.
It took her a little time, but she did, smiling bravely up at me, offering me open access to her most private areas. I moved between her spread legs and knelt between them. I caressed the smooth skin of her thighs gently. I could feel her fear and I almost pulled back. I don't know why I kept on, but I did. I guess I didn't want to waste her courage, to mock it.
"Now it's your turn, Cricket," I said softly as I bowed my head and kissed that softest of skin on the inside of her thighs. Nothing more was said as I proceeded to bring her to heretofore unknown heights of ecstasy using only my tongue. She was screaming and thrashing her tresses as she came over and over.
I started to remove her corset when she was sated, but she shook her head `no', pleading with her eyes. I silently nodded my assent, then inserted into her and asshole the larger sized appliances that had been custom made for her by the Rosen's. The diabolical ones. The ones that plugged into the wall and didn't wear down.
I tied her ankles to the footboard and left her corseted and spread-eagled for the night. She wouldn't get much sleep. I had programmed those big vibrators for `simmer.' They would monitor her biofeedback and keep her at a fever pitch until they were turned off. About once an hour they would let her go over the edge, then they would keep her at that higher level until the next push to the next level. By morning she should be nearly crazy. Of course, she could get loose with a stiff pull, but she wouldn't do it. I turned my attention to my next task, my love.
Sally was weeping silently as I came in the room. I knew she was as unsure as I was of what she had asked me to do with Janey. I opened my fly and pushed my dick under her nose.
"Taste."
She did, hesitantly. She wasn't sure if I was rubbing it in or what. She jerked her head up in amazement as she realized she didn't taste juice.
I leaned down to kiss her. "Taste," I said, smiling gently.
She kissed me gently, then, with the tip of her tongue, tasted her daughter's juices on my face.
"Forgive me, Master, for doubting you."
"You're forgiven. But I'm still going to use the crop on you tonight," I said with a wicked grin on my face.
Sally gasped at that reminder. I thought she got a little paler, too. As much as she sought the pain and submission, she still feared my inexperience. I hoped tonight would help her get over that fear.
I helped her kneel in front of the bench with it touching her ass. I then bent her backwards over the bench as she had been that first night. This time, however, I tied her wrists to her ankles under the bench. Her were prominently offered to my whims, as was her defenseless twat.
I started lightly, teasing the tips of her tits, flicking it with the end of the white crop, caressing them, almost. I laid a couple of light strokes quickly across her taut belly, warming the flesh there. Then I worked her shoulders to a ruddy glow, avoiding the super sensitive neck areas. Still, the numerous blows tantalizingly close to her face and neck made her shudder. Slowly, as I worked the tensions and pain and pleasure in her higher and higher, she realized I had not misplaced one single blow with the dangerous weapon. I felt her fears relax as she gave herself up to the pain and pleasure.
I led her down the path she desired, wringing cry after heart wrenching cry from her. Still she wanted more and harder from me. Her were blazing red, a mass of mottled color, but without a single welt or drop of blood. When she was maxed out and could go no higher, I stepped in front of her and with a vicious but calculated blow, I brought the crop up between her thighs to land on her swollen and throbbing lips.
I thought she was going to break her back. I had been chasing and stirring the lights of her aura, teasing her and arousing her with the pain she sought. But this was like a super nova. I had never seen so bright a light from either her or Janey's auras. I played the crop off the sides of her inner thighs, as close to her crotch as I could get. I teased her with the pain, then I would deluge her with it. She slipped into a state of mind I don't think she knew existed. She was far beyond the singing stage that Bala talked about.
If I could not have seen her aura to help her, to watch her, I would have been terrified for her. As it was, I was able to sense her needs and guide her as she existed on that sensual plateau. Later, I lay beside her in bed as she dreamed, or whatever she did. She was so relaxed, yet so energized. I drifted off to sleep, Sally cradled in my arms.
I woke later to find her watching me with quiet eyes. There was no fear anymore, only love. I was her Master. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night, troubled by dark thoughts. I felt Sally's cool touch trying to sooth me.
I must have drifted off sometime during that short night, as I woke up alone, the first time in a long time. I remembered why I didn't like it. I also missed my morning by Janey, too, but then I remembered I had left her tied to her bed. Guess I couldn't blame her for not getting up, huh? Still, I wondered where Sally was.
I shaved and showered, again alone, so I finished in a lot less time. I missed shaving Sally. She was so appreciative of my attentions afterwards. I don't know which of us enjoyed doing that more.
I dressed and wandered into the kitchen. I was surprised to see Janey up and about, dressed and perky. After the night she must have had, I was amazed she could walk, but I guess they are right when they say that `youth is wasted on the young.' She saw me come into the kitchen and her smile lit up the room. I caught her flying body in my arms as she threw herself at me.
"Ooooooh, thank you, Daddy!"
"I take it you had a good time?"
"Oh, God! I didn't know it could be so good! I mean, I've felt a little bit of it when you and Mom, uh, do stuff, but - Wow! Oh, yeah, speaking of Mom, what in the Hell did you do to her last night?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, it's like I was feeling great, you know, and then WHAMO, this tidal wave comes over the link, but it doesn't stop. It just kept coming and coming." She giggled at her pun. "But it didn't surge like usual, it just flowed, but not a lot. It's hard to describe."
I kissed her on the nose and gave her my Cheshire grin.
"Oh, not going to tell me, huh?" she teased back. Then, seriously, "That's OK, Dad. She is incredibly happy. I enjoyed what we did, too," she blushed, "not just the licking part - but that was great! - but I liked wearing the corset and being tied up, too. It was a weird feeling, good, though. I didn't think I would like it, but I kind of, well, like, felt secure in it. I mean, I was as good as naked, but it felt good, not naughty."
"Well, you certainly looked naughty. Lusciously, deliciously naughty," I joked.
She giggled, then got serious again. It looked like that was the way the morning was going. "I don't think I'm ready for what you did to Mom," she said quietly.
"You don't know what I did, though, do you?"
"No, that's not what I mean. I meant I'm not sure I could handle how felt. I don't know I would want to come back down. She's stronger than I am that way."
I hugged her even closer. "Just say the word and I will stop whatever it is you don't like or whatever it is you're afraid of, even if it's that you're afraid it is too good. I almost didn't do anything last night, you know. You were so scared, but so brave. I'm proud of you, kiddo."
This time it was her turn not to answer. She snuggled into my chest.
"Where is your Mom, by the way?"
"She left about an hour ago, just after she let me up. I didn't want her to but she was really serious. I wouldn't let her take off my collar, though. What's going on? She wouldn't tell me anything. She made a telephone call, then rushed out."
I reached behind her head and unsnapped her slave collar for her. She sighed as I slipped it into my pocket. We stood for a long time that way, a and daughter. I could almost have believed we were a normal family, until I felt her tiny hand wend its way down to my jeans and unzip my fly.
"You didn't, uh, get any relief at all last night, did you, Dad." It was a statement.
"Guy's won't explode if they don't cum, Janey. Regardless of what your boyfriends tell you."
"Daaad! I don't have a boyfriend," she protested, a bit too strongly, I thought.
"Well, last night was for you and your Mom. I can wait."
"Well, this morning is for you," she quipped, as she wiggled out of my arms and down to her knees. She latched on to my cock with the full force of her mouth and began seriously and bobbing. Even though she had been doing this on a daily basis, with her nearly naked and in my bed, this seemed sexier than any she had ever given me, with the exception of the first one. This time both she and I were fully clothed, and in the kitchen. It was somehow highly erotic, highly charged. I held off as long as I could, but I blew into that luscious mouth in much too short a time. Janey didn't stop with one load, though. She seemed determined to drain me of all the excess build- up from last night.
Sally came in carrying a heavy canvas bag while her daughter was still busy on her knees. She stopped and looked at us and gave me a wry grin. "Damn, I wanted to say `thank you' first. She beat me to it."
"Uh, I think there'll be more when she's done, Love," I grinned back. I was amazed there was no jealousy between them. "I missed you this morning."
She looked appalled, as if she had made a serious miscalculation by leaving. "I, uh, I just, I..."
"It's OK, Love. I didn't mean anything by that. I just missed you and our time together. I wanted you to know."
She got all teary eyed and blubbery on me. For the second time that morning I had to catch a launched body, only this time I had a hot mouth attached to my groin that hampered me. I managed.
Sally smothered my face and chest with kisses. Then proceeded south. I don't know how she managed to dislodge Janey from her possessive sucking, but soon I recognized Sally's talented mouth on my shaft. I cracked open my eyes and saw Janey standing there, grinning at me.
"Feel better, now, Pops?"
"Pops?"
"Yeah! You shot off so quick this time, like you just `popped', you know? So... Pops!" She giggled at my responding growl.
I maneuvered my butt over to a chair and settled in it. With Sally on her knees, Janey busied herself with breakfast. No fancy cooking today. Today it was dry toast and yogurt. Only by wheedling could I get her to make the coffee.
Sally swallowed, then stood up. She still looked weepy. I guess she was still being whipsawed by the emotions from last night. She settled on my lap after carefully putting away my softening cock. She fed me breakfast as I held her. I could tell she needed to be held. But there was something else, too. She wasn't normally this serious.
Janey cleared the breakfast mess and we sat together in silence. When the last coffee was gone, Sally got up and lifted the heavy canvas bag onto the table. Unzipping it, she proceeded to set out two semi- automatic rifles, two very large caliber pistols and several dozen boxes of ammunitions for each. Talk about breaking the mood!
"Done a little shopping, have you?" I quipped.
"You're going to be gone." Damn that woman! How the hell did she know? I know for a fact I did not talk in my sleep. How?
"Only a couple of days."
"He was too confident last night." She was referring to that cocky son-of-a-bitch, Gary.
"I noticed. You want to tell me exactly what you said to him to get him to leave?"
"Shit!"
We both turned to face Janey, who never used language like that. I raised my eyebrows in an unspoken question to her.
"You're talking about him, right? Gary?" We nodded. "God, I remember that night, what happened. I must have only been, what, 11? Anyway, she didn't say anything to him, Dad."
"Nothing?"
"Nope. Not a word. But we were patching bullet holes in the walls for months. She must have shot a hundred times."
I turned to Sally. "I thought you said you couldn't shoot?"
Janey chimed in before Sally could speak. "Oh, she can shoot. She just can't hit anything. She missed the bastard ..."
"Janey! Watch your language!"
"...every single time, except the last one that blew up his car. And you called him a `bastard' yourself, Mom, along with some other choice names."
I sat in stunned silence. It takes incredible talent to miss that many times at such close range. I had seen her shoot. I had suspected she was too good to have been a novice, even if she had screwed up with the safety on my gun. My pistol was an unusual model, so she may not have known where it was or how it operated. Regardless, I knew what it was like to be shot at. I knew why Gary had stayed away. Up until now.
That didn't tell me why he was back. Or if he had plans for Sally and Janey. He may have seen Janey's picture on after the attack. It could have stirred old feelings of revenge. I didn't know. I just knew there was some unfinished business and I hated loose ends. I had to tie things up.
I looked at the weaponry spread out on the table. Sally had selected well, if she was going to stop an elephant. Or an enraged man. I also didn't think she intended to miss this time. I didn't intend to let it get that far.
I knew what it was to kill a man, what it did to you inside. In the course of my agency work, I had had to learn to kill. I had done it very well. Too well, for my taste, even if the targets had deserved it. Something dies inside of you each time you take a life, though, and there had been many times. Too many, but even once was too many when it came to killing - or dying. I did not want that to happen to Sally or, God forbid, Janey. I, myself, would avoid doing it again if I could. If I couldn't, well, that was a bridge to cross when I came to it.
"You can't stay here. He knows the house too well."
"I was going to take Janey to Mac and CeCe's place for a while."
I thought about that. "Mac's out of town for a series in Seattle. CeCe works all over the area and couldn't be there all the time. I'd rather you go stay with Marion, my sister. She's just moved back into our folk's house and has plenty of room. Her court isn't in session right now and I know she'd love the company."
"I don't know her that well."
"My point exactly. Neither does Gary. He may know about your relationship to CeCe."
"Oh. Right. OK. Will she be OK with those?" She indicated the guns.
I grinned. "She can probably train you how to field strip them, although something tells me you know how already. There's a target range in the second basement, too. Oh, and have her show you her assault weapons collection."
"I thought she was a Federal Judge! Aren't those kinds of guns illegal?"
"Yeah, but they only get really excited when you wave them around on the White House lawn. Some of them in the collection are mine, too." She looked at me even more shocked. "What, I can't have some toys...?" I asked in mock exasperation.
After that there wasn't much to say. Sally and Janey packed and left. Just before they drove off, Sally hugged me goodbye.
"Be careful, Larry. Janey's right. He is a bastard. A ruthless and dangerous bastard"
Janey just squeezed me like she never wanted to let go. I felt the same way, but things had to be finished. I couldn't let that unknown threat stay out there. I had to at least know what the was like.
When they were gone I made my way to a nondescript building in the center of town. Most towns have one of these quiet structures, those buildings that look like offices, generally close to the municipal offices, but no one actually knows anybody who works there. They may have the first floor or two occupied by small shops to make the building look occupied, but the buttons to the upper floors are disabled or missing in the elevators.
The entry to the upper floors in this building was restricted to the underground garage, another part of the structure most people didn't remember being built. The entry to the garage was two blocks over, through the restricted parking garage under the city hall, so the general public never saw it. Most city employees were too dull to notice the extra cars disappear through that locked automatic garage door on the second level. The ones who weren't were too smart to ask questions.
Stepping off the elevator on the top floor of that building, I slid my ID into the reader. I underwent a retinal scan, a voice scan and had my fingerprints checked. It always amazed me how much detailed information the government had and to what extent it went to hide that knowledge from the public. And all this happened in what was supposed to be a so-called democracy. If the public had even the smallest clue exactly how much their government knew about them, they would tear it down, brick by brick. I used to think it was the price we paid for our freedom. Now I wasn't so sure. Those nagging unanswered questions were the main reason I was no longer active for the agency.
I still had full access, however. They liked me. I had done well for them, and never screwed up, e.g., got caught. I also knew where too many bodies were buried, literally.
Our local analyst had just finished with the information I had asked for. He looked up at me as I came through the heavy metal door and grinned. "Interesting case," was all he said.
That got my attention immediately. Most Americans, 99.99% of them anyway, live humdrum, mundane lives, those `lives of quiet desperation'. They are uneducated, unmotivated, apathetic, lazy, boring, bland or any combination thereof, yet corporately, they have been capable of achieving some of the greatest feats in history, when properly aroused. Our current government felt it was their sacred duty to keep the people from becoming motivated to any action, whatsoever.
The analysts for the agency had seen it all. If agents like me were the legs of the agency, the analysts were the brains. They spent most of their waking hours looking at trivial, seemingly unrelated data points and finding critical patterns. From those patterns emerged their best guesses. Some of them were able to make very good guesses about the behavior of certain types of people.
Our analyst was one of the best. We had worked together before and kidded each other good-naturedly. I accused him about being a closet voyeur and he was always asking me to introduce him to my ex-girlfriends. We never saw each other socially, however. It just wasn't done. I think he grudgingly admired some of the work I had done, or had been able to accomplish based on his work, as he put it. What these never admitted to was being surprised. So, for a case to be `interesting' to him meant that Gary was different. To me, that meant he was dangerous, unpredictable.
He handed me a surprisingly thin file. I took it to a secure office and locked myself in. I would have to give him back the exact same file before I could leave the floor. Security was really tight and I didn't object.
The file on Gary was interesting. I reviewed his file, always with the awareness that there could be some critical piece of information that was missing, something that the government just didn't know. Nobody could know everything. I looked through the list of his known girlfriends and the dates they had been together. I saw Sally's name and cringed. That would cross-link back to my file. I would have to be extra careful that, if anything terminal happened, it couldn't be traced back to me.
While he had been with Sally for a long time, there were a number of others he had also seen during that same time period. He had two-timed her. I saw that pattern run throughout his relationships. One steady girl, a lot of flings.
One of the other names I recognized, or thought I did, and it brought me up short. A name from my past. I got a sinking feeling in my gut. This was the daughter of a friend of mine from Chile. I remembered her as a high-spirited wisp of a girl, determined to make it in a man's world and totally unprepared for the consequences. Not exactly spoiled, but naively unaware of the evils of poverty and the depravity of which mankind was capable. Juan Miguel had protected his daughter too well.
She had run away from his loving home, come to New York, and then after a couple of months had gone missing. I was in Chile when she had disappeared, working with him. I owed him my life, in fact, but that's another story. He had been distraught when she ran away, especially to New York, but she was a headstrong girl. Her subsequent disappearance had devastated him. She called herself `Miki' and pronounced it like the shoe company `Nike.'
I found the specific piece of information I was looking for buried in a list of his assets, under an assumed name. He had used several aliases, which didn't surprise me. That he used them as well as he did, did. Most people get clumsy and screw up. He didn't. He was too good to be lucky. Gary had been trained, and by a top group, too, was my guess.
When I handed the file back to the analyst, I pointed out the list of known associates. I knew several of them, fellow agents or agents with other agencies. "Is he one of us?"
He grinned at me, always seemingly amused that I could think. "Not that I could tell. I looked as deep as I could, and that's pretty deep. Hell, I can get your file. The good one, your operations file."
I was impressed. I couldn't even see that file. "Any chance he's deeper?"
"Not with his profile. He's interesting, but, well, we know just a little bit too much about him. If he were any deeper than you were, we wouldn't know anything. Hell, your file is only two pages long and most of that is what you told me!" He grinned wryly. "I haven't gotten around to entering some of it, you know. Just too busy. Of course, if I had a nice lady to go home to, I would be even busier..." he tailed off, hinting.
I looked up at him sharply. He knew about Sally. I had mentioned her to him several times, especially since I was living with her now and had to let him know where he could reach me in an emergency. He paled at my look and knew he had tread too close to blackmail to suit me.
"Damn, Sampson, you know I'm joking," he blustered lamely. "Besides, they already know about her," he added softly. "They are really insistent about knowing everything about you, you know." He glanced around to see who could overhear us. "I shouldn't even tell you that, though."
"I know. This one just hits too close to home. For a couple of reasons. But I'm a little touchy about Sally."
"Yeah. I saw that when that bastard spoiled brat of a jock raped her daughter. He got off lucky only losing one ball." His voice was venomous. "What exactly did you do to get rid of all that media?"
"You don't know?"
"I tried like the devil, but corporate lawyers are the hardest bunch to crack for information. We still haven't got a clue."
I told him what I had done, about the letter, the threat.
He just chuckled. "Damn, you play hard ball."
From him, I took it as a compliment.
The key piece of information I had found in Gary's file was an address. Not just any address. It was an address in a middle class residential part of town. One of the biggest secrets the government doesn't want you to know is that the greatest threat to the security of America resides in the vast middle class neighborhoods. Not from any of the middle class Americans who live there, but from the enormity of the apathy that does. No one cares who lives next door as long as they mow the grass, don't make noise at night, don't park clunkers on their lawns and above all, don't lower the property values. No one knows who lives next door to them, either. You could deliver an atom bomb and then hide it in a basement in suburbia. No one would know. No one would have a clue.
That's what I found here. Gary had discovered the anonymity of suburbia. I had asked Sally if Gary had ever taken her to his place for a party or anything. She had said no, only her place, hotels or sleazy bars. Towards the end, she said, he had been hinting that they could do more bondage stuff at his special place full time, but kept implying that Janey was a problem. He had kept trying to get her to pull Janey out of school and home school her. Sally had refused, insisting that Janey needed the social interaction. But he had never taken her anywhere that might have been his safe house.
I was impressed when I drove by the house. He could have qualified to entertain the president with the high level of security he had installed. None of it was classified that I could tell, as it was all commercially available - at a hefty price, too. As it was, it was almost a challenge for me to break in undetected later that night. Almost. It was good. I was better. It made me wonder what he had to hide that was worth what that setup must have cost him.
I was sickened when I found out his dirty little secret. With all the external security he had installed, he didn't feel he needed a safe. It wouldn't have done him much good, anyway, so he probably saved himself some bucks. The bastard was meticulous, all the photos and were neatly labeled and dated. There were several files of photos and labeled `Sally' with dates that corresponded with the time they were together. There was also one video cassette labeled `Miki.' My guts were in a twisted knot as I slipped that one into the VCR. I dreaded what I would find, but even I was unprepared for the brutality of the film.
Miki, beautiful, proud, brave Miki was tied to a bed. The film showed Gary talking to her, telling her that he just wanted one more thing from her and then he would let her go. He wanted to make a film with her. She spit in his face. He slapped her. She spit at him again. He hit her. Back and forth. He got tired first, but they were both covered with her blood and spittle when he quit hitting her.
He kept a knife at her throat as he released her wrists, then handcuffed them in front of her. The next scene showed her dangling from her cuffed wrists, her beautiful face swollen and bleeding, but still recognizable. He approached her with a heavy-duty cattle prod. She was screaming in pain, swearing in Spanish at him. Then he cut her intentionally with his big knife. Badly, across her face. A look of horror and realization flooded her proud eyes. As protected as she had been from the seamy side of life, she still knew what kind of film she was going to be the star of. To her credit, she refused to cooperate with the bastard.
From that point on in the movie, she made no sound, made no movement at all that wasn't literally forced out of her body. Oh, he could still get her to twitch with the cattle prod and moan when he cut her, but for all practical purposes she was a slab of beef swaying on a meat hook. Then, just as I was about as sickened as I could get, she mustered her waning strength. In a clear voice that would have done her proud, she turned her face and spoke to the camera.
"My name is Madonna Micheala Lucinda Carmalita de la Fernando. The souls of those buried here around me are crying out for vengeance. I swear upon their souls and the soul of my sainted that my father, Senor Juan Miguel de la Fernando, will hunt you to the ends of the earth and bring you to justice." It had taken all of her strength to say that, and from then on she just hung there.
I sat there in the darkened house, stunned into immobility as I watched him callously finish her off, but her final haunting words gave me the structure of a plan. Before I left, I checked out the rest of the house. I found the room in which the film had been made. It was the only room in the basement with a solid floor. The rest of the basement flooring had been removed, leaving only dirt. I looked over the rows of mounds of dirt laid out in an orderly fashion. Dozens of graves. One was Miki's. One might have been Sally's. I vomited and left, taking the several of Sally and the one of Miki, as well as the two files with their photographs with me. Fuck the rules of tampering with evidence. There was more than enough evidence that I left behind. Even Clinton would have had a hard time denying this one.
I called Juan Miguel the next day. It was one of the hardest telephone calls I had ever had to make. I told him straight out I had found what had happened to Miki. And I had proof who did it. Would he like to see the proof? I cautioned him it was the worst thing I had ever seen. He knew I had been in some tough situations and that I had seen a lot of the worst the human race had to offer.
My bluntness seemed to stir him to life. He wanted to see it. I over-nighted it to him. He called me back the next day after viewing the tape. He wanted revenge.
Now that I had his cooperation, over the next couple of days, it wasn't hard to get Gary to cooperate with my plan. He had one Achilles heel, and that was he needed money to maintain his lifestyle and his image. A lot of money. A friend of a friend of a friend told him of a lucrative opportunity in Santiago, Chile. His friend told Gary that he would do this himself, but that hands were full, etc., etc., but if Gary wanted to go down and shepherd this deal through, this big South American honcho would cut him in for a stiff percentage. Just go down, bring back a fugitive for someone who couldn't enter Chile for political reasons and so on. In other words, a political kidnapping. Just the kind of thing to hook a guy who hung around with black ops guys, a `wanna be.' Gary fell for it hook, line and sinker.
I told Juan Miguel that Gary would be down the day after next and which flight he would be on. I had Gary shadowed by someone Juan Miguel knew, insurance that Gary would arrive in Santiago and also to act as a Judas to point him out to Juan Miguel's agents. When I told the shadow, an acquaintance, what was going on he did it gratis.
When the shadow reported back three weeks later, I was pleased to hear that Juan Miguel had not blown Gary away in the airport. I'm sure he was tempted to, but he was a better than that. A beautiful servant girl had met Gary at the airport. He was ushered to a waiting limo and then leisurely driven to a hacienda deep in the hills surrounding that beautiful city. Another agent working for Juan Miguel and known to the shadow had met the shadow as well. He was offered the opportunity to watch Chilean justice in action. Curious, he too, was driven to the hacienda, taking a quicker route. They arrived before Gary and the maid and were waiting in a private viewing room, watching the proceedings through a one-way mirror.
Gary was visibly impressed with the accommodations. This was real power. He was seated in a comfortable chair in a place of honor. Seated where he was, though, he couldn't see the movement of the people behind him. One by one, the august group of sham politicians who had been there to greet him left the room and were replaced by armed guards. Juan Miguel kept Gary focused on him by telling one ribald anecdote after another. When the last soldier was in place, Juan Miguel told Gary he wanted to show him a clip of the fugitive. They darkened the room and turned on a huge wide-screen TV.
The image flickered then became clear. They had cut down the image so that just Miki's face showed. Her voice came across loud and clear, even into the room where the shadow was watching. After the short clip, Juan Miguel stood and said, "Perhaps I should formally introduce myself. My name is Juan Miguel de la Fernando, and that was my only daughter. I should also introduce you to Col. Eduardo Perez. He is the commander of a small government penal facility at the southern tip of my country, outside of Punta Arenas. He has seen the entire you made of my lovely daughter. He will be arranging for your accommodations for the remainder of your stay with us."
With that, he turned his back on the murderer of his child and walked proudly out of the room. Gary, true to his nature, tried to fight his way out when he realized he had been lured into a trap. His brief struggles ended with his nose meeting a rifle butt. I don't think the rifleman cared much for Gary, either.
The shadow was invited to observe Gary's confinement. It was brief, but it left the shaken to the core. All he said was that Gary, or what was left of him after living in a rat-infested hole, died in less than two weeks, a very man. I knew what he meant.
The shadow then told me that Col. Perez had asked him to relay a message to me. Apparently Juan Miguel had told him of how he came by the video. The message was that `between honorable men, all is forgiven.' He had also extended an offer to visit him in Chile.
I thanked the shadow, my friend, and shuddered to think of re-visiting Col. Perez. I had already visited him once. That was enough. That small government facility was a maximum-security hellhole dubiously called a prison. I had been there, myself, in the same place as Gary, with a collar the size of a manhole cover locked around my neck. With the rest of my body crammed into a putrid, rat-infested sewage pipe and the manhole cover locked to the ground, only my head was visible. I shuddered as I remembered the horror of trying to defend my weakened body from the attacks of the ravenous rats I couldn't see. Sleeping under those conditions was out of the question, too. I could believe he died an man. You aged very quickly under those circumstances.
Col. Perez was the only law in that part of Chile. What he said overruled any other authority within his jurisdiction. He and I had had a difference of opinion while I was in his town. As a result, he wanted me to stay in his prison. I did not. I think I am the only person to have escaped from that place, though I still regret the necessity of crippling two of the guards in the process. Given the savagery they lived with, it might have been kinder to kill them outright. I heard later that the other inmates had found them crippled and had tortured them to death.
That detail of the other inmates killing the guards had been left out of the report to the local authorities and thus, the search was on for a `cop killer.' The search ended when I crossed out of his jurisdiction with the quiet help of Juan Miguel, which is why I owed him my life. Without his help, I am convinced I would never have made it. I was wounded, exhausted, penniless and drained of every ounce of energy I possessed. I was down to my last hope and Juan Miguel came through for me. Giving him closure on this horrible incident was the least I could do for him.
As a final chapter to the of Gary, I wrote up my report on the incident, complete with my involvement and of my relationships with Sally, Miki and Juan Miguel. I never cut corners in my reports, I never lied. Sometimes it hurt, but eventually, it had always served me well. I wasn't about to change now.
I e-mailed my report to the analyst. He called me back almost immediately and asked a couple of questions, then rang off. A couple of days later he called me down to the anonymous building downtown.
"Watch this," he said mysteriously. "The show is just about to begin."
I looked at what appeared to be a feed from a stationary camera. I recognized the house as Gary's suburban hideaway. Suddenly, like a scene from the Keystone Kops, federal and local law enforcement vehicles began filling the screen, lights flashing crazily in the dark. Several agents with a yellow "FBI" emblazoned like targets on the backs of their dark blue windbreakers jumped out of a still-moving vehicle and raced up to the front door, as if eager to be the first ones on the scene. I knew, unless the analyst had deactivated the alarms, that they had just tripped three systems, two of which were booby-trapped.
"Did you tip them off?"
"Yep! Set up the feed, too, to watch the fuckers screw up.
"Did you tell them about the security?" I asked him.
"Yep! I said the guy had tight security."
"Oh, God! You didn't describe the systems?" He shook his head, grinning. "You know that to them, `tight security' means the guy has a big dog."
I watched in horror as the first agent reached to open the door. The ensuing explosion knocked him and his partner flat on their asses. The other agents, mistaking the explosion for resistance, proceeded to try to blow the fucking house apart with small arms fire and teargas grenades.
"You modified the explosives, you bastard," I chided him. He just grinned. "You're just lucky those two agents had the sense to stay down or they would have stood up into friendly fire." He stopped grinning. Analysts don't know or think of everything.
The FBI reported the shootout had been the culmination of years of painstaking work by hundreds of agents to capture a serial killer. They produced a credible likeness of Gary and a conveniently bullet-riddled corpse. The newspapers carried the photos of the dead girls that were dug up in the basement. Due to the carnage, several of the videocassettes had been damaged so it wasn't too suspicious when there were more bodies than tapes. Everyone just assumed one or two had been destroyed in the shootout.
Miki was finally laid to rest in a proper grave.
Chapter 33
While I had been busy finding and setting up the sting for Gary, Sally and Janey had also been busy. I should have known better than to leave the two of them alone with my sister. Although it still isn't clear what part Marion played in all of this, I suspect it is far greater than any of the three of them have ever admitted to me, especially considering what happened as a result.
To begin with, Janey had recognized the at the opera as a student from her school. From there it was a simple task to find out her name, Simone LeBrech, that she was French, smart and extremely shy. Sally took it from there and followed her home one afternoon after school and found where she lived. The day she had done that was the day Gary left for South America and she saw him carrying his suitcase out of the house and down to a waiting cab. She had been terrified that Gary might have seen her, but she knew when he packed like that he would be gone for at least a week.
She used the next week to set up a fictitious meeting with the mother. Knowing Sally, she couldn't pull off a lie to save her life, and the two women were soon weeping and swapping horror about life with Gary. Sally had come clean with her, so Nicole confessed she was at her wit's end as Gary was sexually abusing her little after he put Nicole into bondage. He made her watch each assault. Lately, each time he was getting rougher and rougher with the girl.
Sally liked Nicole immediately and wanted to help her somehow. Her heart went out to her and being the kind- hearted and generous person she was, she offered my services, too. The only problem was, she hadn't asked me first. In fact, I knew nothing of this, as I was busy shanghaiing Gary.
So, there I was, innocently sitting at my desk, forcing myself to work, or at least look like it. The last week or two I had been out of touch with my clients and, secure as their investments were, they liked to be occasionally reminded I was watching out for them. I managed to soothe a few ruffled feathers and nervous nellies before I just gave up and stared at the blank fucking wall.
That was how Sally found me when she popped into my office. I was so preoccupied with not knowing how things were going in Chile that I didn't notice her until she finally cleared her throat.
I looked at her. She was sitting Indian-style on my blotter and was offering me something. She looked very serious. I really had been somewhere else mentally. At first I thought she was handing me her collar, but I knew this wasn't the position for that.
"What is that, Sally?"
"It is a thong of a bride." I remembered the Amud had told me about the thong, and what it was for. Sally's next words confirmed it. "I , uh, need to ask you for a favor."
"Sally, you know that everything I have is yours. You don't need a thong."
"Well, uh, it's kind of a special request, Larry. It would require a thong. Believe me."
I should have known right then that something catastrophic was afoot. I should have run like the devil himself was chasing me. Did I? Nope! Call me curious, call me stupid, I stayed.
"Is that your thong?" I didn't think she had had the time to finish one, even if she had started when we first knew about them.
She paused at that. " Uh, no. I borrowed one from Bala."
"Borrowed?" She nodded. "You've started one of your own to replace it?"
"Yes."
"Borrowing is not a good idea, even from friends. Give it back to her. Bring me your thong."
"It's not ready yet. This one can be used for singing now."
"Can the favor wait for the thong to be finished?"
"I don't think so."
I thought for moment, making her wait. She squirmed so nicely when she was nervous. "Bring me yours. I will accept it on the condition that you finish it."
Sally climbed down off my desk and left the room. Three minutes later she came back in. Kneeling this time, she offered up her thong to me. It was still damp from having resided within her vaginal canal.
"You're offering me this as a slave?"
"Yes, Master."
"But you're not wearing my collar! How can I accept this?"
Her hands flew to her neck. Blushing, and unusually flustered for her, she scampered to the rack that held hers and Janey's collars. Returning to her knees, she offered me her collar. I fastened it on. Again, she offered me the thong.
"Are you properly attired, slave?" I asked her in mock severity.
Her look at me was definitely not that of a calm submissive woman. She realized by now I was teasing her. I think I liked her exasperated with me. Well, a little bit, anyway.
It took her longer to return this time and I heard other voices being shushed in the hallway. Still glaring at me, she made her way over to my chair and kneeled for a third time. Once more, she lifted the thong.
"When was the last time you did your Head Time, slave?" I realized that she was desperate enough that I could get this to go on indefinitely. This could be interesting.
Her hands lowered slowly in surrender. She realized I was going to make her work before I accepted the thong from her. With a heavy sigh of frustration, she opened my trousers and freed my hardening cock. This happened far too rarely for me, having Sally in this position. I settled back and relaxed, ready to enjoy the feeling of utter silence and peace while having the head of my cock bathed in my lover's mouth.
Sally gave an exasperated grunt as I settled back, but did not break from her place. I let her wait for a long 15 minutes before I gently caressed her cheek, a signal she could finish.
"Thank you, Master. I have missed that, too." She knew what I was thinking? God Damn!
This time, with utter supplication, she held up the thong.
I accepted it, obliging me to honor her request. I lifted the damp leather to my nose and inhaled the scent of my love. I didn't realize yet what an expensive bouquet it was going to be, but right then I didn't care. I was still lost in the arousing aroma of the thong and didn't notice when two other women entered the room. Sally stayed bowed down, my prick stayed standing free as she had left it, waving in the breeze.
I think she knew what my reaction was going to be to her request. She was right to be a little afraid. Pissed would be a nice word for it.
She introduced Nicole and Simone, and daughter. They looked vaguely familiar. When she mentioned they had been the two women with Gary the night of the concert, it hit me. And I suddenly had an awful feeling I knew what the favor was going to be. Really pissed would be closer.
Her request was that I allow Nicole and Simone to join the household. Permanently. Both were aware of our lifestyle and were willing to join. Eager, in fact. Nicole would be another slave and Simone would be, well, another daughter, sort of.
I sat stone still, trying to convince myself of my love for Sally, trying to figure out what in the fucking Hell she was doing. Was she really offering me another woman? I mean, sure, Nicole was nice to look at, but shit, Sally and I weren't even yet! I for damned sure wasn't tired of her and didn't think I would ever be.
My knuckles were white on the arms of the chair. This one was metal, so they didn't snap like the one in the kitchen. But they did bend a little. I tried really hard not to yell at her, to humiliate her in front of the people she was trying so hard to help. I zipped up my pants for starters, my erection collapsing as the totality of her request hit me.
God Damn fucking women. Don't they always know when you've reached that last piece of rope? I was worried about two of my friends, the shadow and Juan Miguel, and she brings home two strangers. I had just sent a man to his death, albeit justifiable in my mind, and had put another friend in possible peril. The waiting was killing me and I wasn't ready for this right now.
And things with Sally and Janey were going so well, too! How is it that just when you finally get a good grip on what's going on, they ask you to do something that totally fucks up the system? And then want you to fix it? God Damn it all to Fucking Hell!
I managed to do two things. I didn't yell at her and I managed to remind myself that I loved her. I didn't have a clue what she was trying to do, but if this was important enough for her to ask for, it was important enough for me to consider. OK, technically, by accepting the thong, I had no choice. But, technically, it wasn't our fucking custom, either.
I reached down and touched Sally's head. I nodded curtly for her and the to leave. Nicole LeBrech stood before me, her head bowed down. I looked at her for a while in silence. She was a fine looking woman, different in most ways from Sally, and I will admit, the sight of her stirred my blood. I felt guilty, momentarily.
She sat down at my request in one of my office chairs. I asked her to tell me her story, to be as complete and honest as she felt she could be. It was odd, but I could not sense her as I could Sally and Janey. It was like there was a nothingness there, like the feelings had been beaten out of her. When I thought back, I had sensed something from Simone, but it felt different than what I sensed form Sally and Janey. Like she was more stiff or something. I couldn't place it and, right then, I didn't have the time to think about it. Nicole was talking.
She had been born in a little village outside of Paris, France. Her had died in childbirth, so she had never known her. Saddened by the loss of his true love, but a proud man, her Papa had refused all help from the village women and raised Nicole by himself. He was a loving parent, but refused to dote on her. He was a perfectionist himself and demanded her very best efforts in all she did, often punishing her for substandard efforts. He did not punish her for failing when she had given her best effort.
Nicole had thrived in that atmosphere. She proved to be exceptionally bright and finished her basic schooling, the equivalent of American high school, by the age of 15. At the graduation festivities, Nicole got extremely drunk. Simone was born 9 months later. She hadn't exactly been raped, but she didn't know who the was.
Papa took this development in stride. He moved to Paris with her so she could start University. Simone was born between end of term exams. Papa found a job at night in an auto factory and helped Nicole raise Simone until she finished with her Ph.D. work five years later. She had a doctorate in neurochemistry.
Papa had been killed in an explosion at the auto plant. Devastated and alone with a daughter, Nicole had latched onto - her words - the first to come along that showed any interest in her. Using her small inheritance, he brought her to America, but, when the money ran out, so did he.
Determined to make it, she called one of her Professors who had taken an interest in her career. He referred her to the president of a small biotech company near where she was currently living in the US who needed a neurochemist. For the next year or two, Nicole worked hard, as Papa had trained her to and she did well. Being beautiful helped and she had more and more contact with the CEO of the company, an curmudgeon who had gone through several wives already. Nicole rebuffed his advances, but the bastard really fell hard for her. He prevailed and they married, much to the dismay of her other suitors.
She continued to do well, the company prospered from her patents and, predictably, the died. He died happy, in bed with Nicole, but it was traumatic for her. He had left her everything her owned, other than what went to the other wives and the stockholders. He had been smart enough to have everything tied up legally so they didn't contest the will. None of then wanted to fight his lawyers again, it seemed.
Nicole and Simone had been naturalized to US citizenship during this stint. She ran the company for a while, but it wasn't what she wanted to do. She missed the lab. She wanted out of the corporate rat race. Through her own contacts in the industry, she found a buyer for the company and made several people very rich, including herself.
Being rich, single and beautiful would not seem to present a problem to most people, but Nicole seemed to attract smooth con men. She had invested her fortune wisely and had put several roadblocks between it and any confidence scheme, but that didn't stop the pricks from trying. Most of them tried the wrong approach, trying to sweet talk or woo her with flowers. Those she felt comfortable with, as those she could handle.
Gary was the first one to touch her submissive nature, and it rattled her to her core. Knowing of his quasi- intelligence training, it did not surprise me that he quickly found his way through her obstacles to her bank accounts and was bleeding them at an alarming rate. But even at the rate he was going, she had enough to keep him in fresh Gucci's for another four years or so.
My ears perked up at that. That was serious money she was talking about. It was also obvious that that represented something more to her than just security. If she became a part of the household, I would have to make sure her money was kept totally autonomous from mine. I would handle it the same way I did with Sally and Janey's funds, but I knew I would have to take special care to make her feel comfortable that I was not after her money. It wouldn't be easy. If I had that kind of money, I'd be suspicious of everyone, too.
She didn't say much about Gary. She didn't have to. I knew what he put her through. The gentle seduction into bondage, setting the hook, then the humiliation and degradation. That he was actually abusing Simone sexually to accomplish this humiliation disturbed me, as I hadn't seen a pattern of in his profile. Simone was a woman for her age, that much I could see, but she was still a little younger than Janey. There must have been something special about her to attract Gary to her.
I had come to realize that I couldn't have been the only person in the universe to have the ability to `sense' emotions, as I had been doing with Sally and Janey. I think, on some level, we all do. We just never recognize it for what it is. I think pheromones, facial expression and body language get confused in the mix, too. Besides, being `sensitive' isn't always considered to be a compliment to a male, although I had always tried to be. I was beginning to realize that Gary must have had the ability to sense a submissive nature in women. Hell, he may even have had the ability to project one onto them, but the thought that that might be possible scared the living shit out of me. He did seem to be able to `find' a lot of submissive women, though, and I didn't recollect Miki being like that. I shuddered and put the thought behind me.
Nicole went on to tell me about Simone. It was like watching a train wreck. Simone had shown early signs of genius. Not like her mother. Smarter. Off the IQ scale. She was also a pretty child and, for the most part, well adjusted, especially for someone with her brilliance. If she had a flaw, it was her instinctual trust in males.
That had led to Nicole's first lover raping Simone at a very age. Nicole had not known about the continued sexual assaults on her until he had run out. Simone's pediatrician had discovered the signs of sexual activity after a routine exam. Nicole was devastated at this. Children's services almost took Simone away from her. If she hadn't found the job at the biotech firm and moved out of state, they would have. By the time they found her again, she was well established at the company and the corporate lawyers took care of the legal matters for her. For once, they were good for something. I made a mental note to find out more about that law firm. Lawyers with good hearts were rarer than honest politicians.
Simone's escape from the misery and pain of the betrayal of her trust was in learning. Books of all kinds were her escape, the more challenging the better. She was like a black when it came to learning. She in everything she came across from music to medicine, Plato to physics. Often, she would have trouble applying what she knew, but that was probably because she knew too much. She had too many choices and, really, how often in life is there just one right answer? I had to smile at that. I was facing the same situation right now, but I was desperately trying to find a suitable alternative.
Nicole had kept Simone in school with children her own age for her social development. She knew too well what the consequences could be of being so much younger than all the other kids. It was important for her that Simone develop a social maturity that could help her through the tough times she was bound to have ahead of her, being as different as she was from everyone else in the `smarts' department. Simone had been adjusting well, trying to find her place in each class, developing a friend or two to pal around with. It was lately that things began to change.
Gary's abuse of Simone confused her. True to form, she trusted him. He used that trust against her, then he began abusing her, mentally and physically. Unlike before, when she had been told to keep what was happening a secret from her mother, Gary flaunted what they did in front of her mother.
When Gary began hurting her, her reaction was to withdraw. Nicole broke down at this point and I had to wait for her to regain a semblance of self-control before she could continue. Simone hadn't spoken for the last three weeks, not to anyone, as far as she could tell. At first she thought it was just a phase. Then the notes from her teachers began to come home, followed by a quietly panicked phone call from the school counselor. From her previous experience with Child services, Nicole was frantic, afraid she would lose Simone for good this time, but didn't know what to do. She had actually been preparing injections for suicide for herself and Simone when Sally showed up.
I sat there, stunned that this woman could show such composure with the trauma she had been though. I wasn't prepared to deal with all her baggage, though it seemed trite to label her very real emotional problems that way. Another traumatized was not on my most-favorite list, either. I remembered the agonizing Sally and I had gone through with Janey, and that was just last week!
But, like Sally, my heart went out to her. She had no one else. It touched a chord deep inside me, challenged me to rethink the paradigms of my own life. This time, it wouldn't just be me, but Sally and Janey would help, too. Somehow I knew that was what Sally intended, but making them a part of our family? It was time to call Sally back in.
She entered at my call for her, apparently standing right outside my door. One look at her face told me she had known everything Nicole had just told me. There was probably more tragedy, too, but the highlights were enough for me. She came and knelt at my feet.
"Go sit down, Sally. Consider your collar off for the time being. I need complete and honest answers to some questions."
I turned to Nicole. "In this house, I insist on openness and honesty, even when you are in a submissive role. Sally knows that, but I just wanted to remind her. Now, I have to ask you some questions about how you see yourself fitting in here. You know, as you can see from Sally's attire and collar, that she has a submissive role in this relationship. That is, by the way, her preference, not my demand. Can you deal with that?"
Nicole lowered her eyes, but didn't blush. "What that awful did to me gave me the most intense feelings I have ever felt. I was hooked from the first soft rope he used to tie me up. I am so ashamed of my weakness, to have wanted it so badly, but I couldn't help myself. It wasn't love. I knew that. It was worse. I could find love almost anywhere. He was the only person I knew who could make me feel like that. It was like a drug, an addicting drug.
"It tore me apart when he touched Simone, but I was helpless to stop him. I..." she broke down again, "...I orgasmed at first, it felt so naughty, being so helpless to stop him. At first he only touched her, then he made her do things. Soon he was fucking her. Three weeks ago he beat her."
She paused, thinking. "I have thought much about this. I am not an ignorant person. I realize, since talking to Sally, but not only that, that I need to be in a submissive role, too. Yes. If this life is possible, I want it." She looked over at Sally, who took her hand in support. "I need it."
Shit! They were in this together, already. I still had some questions.
"OK, you want to do this. What about Simone?"
Nicole looked up at me now, her eyes sharp and focused. This seemed to be more like her normal approach to life. "Sally has told me about how you are working with Janey..."
In a moment of panic I focused my link on Sally and shot her a questioning `Everything?' I wasn't sure if it would work, but my heart rate and adrenaline were high enough that if anything would make it work, it should now. Amazingly, it did.
"No. Not `everything,'" she replied softly through the link. I think we were both stunned at what we had just done, but there were more pressing matters at hand.
"...to help her get over her attack. From what I have seen of Janey, she seems very well adjusted. I think..." she smile wryly, "...I think that this time, for some reason, it is me who trusts you. I apologize in advance, but Simone does not trust you or any now, and is bound to give you trouble."
Ah, the magic button. The hook. A challenge. I couldn't resist. Not after getting walking pneumonia in college, not with the risk of losing Sally. Not now. Knowingly or not, she had offered me the bait I needed.
What was I thinking? It was going to be a challenge fitting two more attractive and probably willing females into a sexually charged environment. What she was telling me about Simone made her an impossible challenge. With emotional stakes as high as possible. I was hooked.
"Sally, how did you see this working? How did you think they would fit in here?"
She looked flustered. Thinking of something is one thing. Saying it out loud, in broad daylight is grounds for commitment to the loony bin. "They, uh, well, they, er,..."
"Start with Nicole, here. What would be her role?"
"Oh, well, uh, I though we could share, you know..." She just left it hanging.
"You thought you and I would share Nicole? I don't need another slave."
Sally blushed, and glanced over at Nicole for support. She must have gotten it, because she actually said it. "No, Larry. I thought Nicole and I would share you. And before you ask, yes, I have thought about this, and, yes, we would share you in every way." She was rather abrupt at the end.
Well excuuuuse me.
"What if she doesn't appeal to me?"
Two sets of eyes widened and stared at me, one in horror that the owner might be found unsatisfactory, the other pair in the horror that their owner's master could have voiced such a tactless question. One pair caught on that I was playing with them.
"Sally, it's OK. He said `what if'."
"Huh?"
"He said `what if'. That means he likes me." Nicole looked at me, suddenly shy. "I think."
I smiled broadly at having been caught out so easily. Damn, I was going to have to get sharper in a hurry to stay ahead of this one. And the was smarter still? Deep, deep shit we're in here, bubba. Deep, deep shit.
I tipped back my chair and closed my eyes, trying to think this out. Sally was trying to alter our relationship and I thought I knew why. As overwhelming as I had found her submissiveness earlier, I had seen indications lately that she found my possessiveness of her to be equally overwhelming. There had been hints, even a small rebellion, in her own fashion.
This was not just another shot across the bows, though. This was her solution. Served up on as attractive a platter as I had seen, I must admit, but I didn't like it. I didn't like not having a choice. This tasted a little like an ultimatum.
"Sally...?"
"I know, Larry. You love me." She stopped, got up and came over to my chair. She tipped me upright and sat on my lap. "I don't like to shout that across the desk," she said tenderly. "I love you, too. I always will. Believe it or not, it won't change because of Nicole, or Simone, or even Janey. I am absolutely convinced of your heart, of your love, of your intentions. It is that absoluteness that gives me the freedom to ask this of you." She didn't add that it was also that total dedication to her that was driving her crazy. She always did have a kind heart.
"I know this won't be easy," she continued, "but you've never shied away from the tough things, have you?" She leaned down and whispered in my ear, digging into my ribs with her fingers at the same time, "This one you can fuck, too, lover. Really!" She collapsed in a giggling heap as I dumped her unceremoniously off my lap and onto the floor.
"All right! All right!" I had the attention of both of them. "I'll agree, but with conditions." Sally groaned. Loudly. It was almost a `God help us' moan, but I couldn't quite make out the words.
"Nicole and Simone may move in. Until further arrangements can be made, Simone will move into Janey's room. Agreed?"
Sally nodded. It was always easiest to give away someone else's privacy. I wondered what the two would say to having a roommate.
"Nicole? You will be Sally's submissive. She will be your Mistress."
Sally sat there, open-mouthed, stunned. Speechless, for once.
Chapter 34
The new arrangement didn't work. It was an uneasy arrangement to begin with. Sally got stressed out in about two days, which made it worse. She became overbearing, surly, bossy. She couldn't handle being a mistress to Nicole.
The decision had not pleased Nicole, either, though she was in a submissive role, as she had wanted. She suffered from a reluctant mistress, however, and in short order, her more aggressive personality made the situation worse.
It got a little better for a while after I gathered them together and told them what had happened to Gary. I called them all into the Free Room. I answered every question I could. I told them about Miki. We watched the news coverage of the funerals for the dead girls. Sally and Nicole understood they owed their lives to their daughters being in a public school. I thought we were all bonding nicely, and that the roughest part was behind us. Boy, was I wrong.
Sally tried to assert her dominance, I will give her that. I found her tactics intriguing and filed them away in case I needed to impress my mastery over Sally in the future. First, she stripped Nicole of all clothing. Not a shred of covering. Not that I minded. Nicole was indeed a beauty, but about as different from Sally as you could get. Where Sally was petite, Nicole was statuesque. Tall, almost 6 foot. Her and olive complexion made Sally seem pale, even with Sally's lightly tanned skin. Together with her intelligent piercing aristocratic blue eyes, she was a striking woman.
Nicole did not seem to have an ounce of excess fat on her, now that I could readily see all of her. That's not to say she wasn't feminine, far from it. She had all the curves necessary to qualify, and then some. Her were about the same size as Sally's but seemed smaller on Nicole's larger frame. Her waist was incredibly narrow. Sally told me it was only 20 inches. I detected more than a little jealousy when she told me that. Nicole also had that feature that millions of react to automatically. She had that natural diamond-shaped open space between her thighs, right at the top. Prehistorically, that meant a wide carriage for bearing and the eroticism of that image was programmed into the male sex chromosome. Sally had it, too, but Nicole... Oh, my! ...the first time I saw her silhouetted in the light from the window behind her, I think I began to finally lust after her. That perfect diamond of light just below her crotch lit a slow burning fire in me.
Next, Sally had Nicole sleep on the floor at the foot of our bed. This I found interesting, as well, because, if anything, her presence during our intimate times added to Sally's stress and distress. She became uneasy when we made love, to the point I had to remind her who was boss. Well, at least, who it was who thought he was boss, anyway. I never forced her to have sex, but she didn't enjoy it as much with Nicole there.
Third was that she had Nicole doing all the shit work. Cleaning, dusting, scrubbing, shopping - grocery, not clothes, gardening, and so on. Everything but what she was suited to do, which was to use her brain. Mindless drivel.
Added to all this was that Janey and Simone were not getting along, either. Janey only had a single bed in her room, so they were not only sharing a room, but a bed, too. Simone was jealous of Janey's popularity, Janey of Simone's brains. There were phone messages that didn't get delivered, sabotaged reports and tests, and so on. Simone was really trying to mess with Janey and doing a good job.
For her part, Janey was trying to get along, if only half-heartedly. She came to me one evening in tears, sweaty from one of the pick-up basketball games. Simone had begun to put a damper on these events, too. I really think she wanted to participate, but she was shy and unfamiliar with basketball. Janey poured out all her woes, blaming everyone, including me, obliquely, for the crap she had to live with.
I held her on my lap trying to work things out. This mess was largely my fault. I know, I know. Sally's way would have probably been better, but it still rubbed me the wrong way to have her decide without consulting me. Even if she was right.
I asked what Janey had done to make Simone's situation better. She looked at me funny, as if it was a strange concept that she might have to do something to help Simone fit in. I asked her if she had ever made her feel like she was welcome. Again she looked at me funny.
I hugged her to me and, without thinking, I told her that it might help Simone feel like she belonged if Janey went out of her way to do something special for her, to make her know she was wanted.
"Like what?" she wanted to know.
"I don't know. Just think about what would make you feel special and wanted and do that for her." Honestly, I didn't have anything in mind at the time.
Later that night, I woke to a familiar elbow in my side. "Larry? You awake?"
"Uh-huh. Now I am."
"Oh, sorry. Did you talk to Janey today?"
"Uh-huh."
"About Simone?"
"Ummm."
"What did you tell her to do?"
Suddenly alert to the edge in her voice, I was now fully awake. And I sensed it, too, but it was different somehow. We had both sensed when Janey had an orgasm and we were familiar with that. This one was different, like it was learning how to feel good.
"God! It's her first orgasm!" Sally whispered to me, after leaning over and checking on Nicole, just to make sure she wasn't fingering herself.
"Should I check on them?"
"No. Let them finish."
"Them? How can you tell there are two of them?"
I could sense her smile in the dark. "Don't know. I just do. Janey's giving Simone an orgasm. Again."
We both felt this one, too, stronger, more sure of itself, more welcomed into the body it was entering.
Janey was diligent, I'll give you that. Simone was cumming like a pro when Janey finally stopped working her over. I slipped in to check on them when it had been quiet for a while. I was greeted by a gorgeous tangle of teen limbs. Simone was zonked. Janey was still awake. I sat by her side and took her hand.
"What was it you did, kiddo?"
"What you said."
"Uh, I don't think I said to do anything like what just happened here."
She grinned up at me. "You could feel her, too? God, she didn't know what was happening to her!"
"And what was happening to her, Janey? Inquiring minds want to know."
She sort of snorted when she giggled, most unladylike. "Well, I thought about what you said, about doing something to make her feel special and wanted. I thought about what made me feel that way. Then I remembered the time you did me with your mouth, about how good that made me feel and all. So I did her."
"She didn't object?"
"Well, uh, I, uh, I kind of surprised her. After a minute, when I didn't bite, she quit struggling."
"Struggling?"
"Uh-huh! I sort of tied her hands to the bed first, like you did mine."
Oh God, I had created a monster.
"You didn't mind that she was a girl?"
"You mean that lezzie thing?"
"Yeah. People can be kind of mean if they find out."
"Oh. Simone wouldn't tell. And even if she does, that's OK, too. It was my gift to her. What she does with it is up to her. Isn't that what you've been trying to tell me all along, Dad?"
I leaned over and kissed this marvelous woman goodnight, my tears dripping on her sweaty and slimy face.
"I would have sex with you right now if you wanted, kiddo." I knew she had not and was still sexually aroused.
She grinned up at me, then hugged me tight. I thought for a moment she was going to take me up on my offer. I wasn't sure if I hoped she would or if I hoped she wouldn't. She held me for the longest time, then whispered, "Thanks, Dad," in my ear.
Maybe you had to be there, but I thought it was a Hell of a touching moment. I went back to my room and went to sleep.
OK. Now, if you came home and heard, `Oh, God, Oh, God, Yes, Yes, Yes. Oh God that's so big and hard, Do my ass, too, harder, please, please don't stop,' or various repetitions and renditions thereof emanating from your daughter's bedroom, screamed in a loud and excited manner, what would you think? Right! You keep a shotgun in the closet for just such an instance.
Unfortunately, it was Sally and Nicole who came home from a foreshortened day of shopping, as Nicole was being a real bitch. Unknown to them, Janey and Simone had decided to play hooky from school to further explore the territory discovered the night before. What they walked in on was Simone pounding Janey with a dildo, who was the one screaming. Simone was eagerly returning the favor Janey had done for her the entire hour before. The thought they were alone in the house and were being as noisy and raunchy as they wanted. It was all in fun, just stuff, sort of like male bonding. Yeah, right!
Sally immediately knew what was going on through her link with Janey. She thought it was strange that Janey sounded like she was having a lot more fun than it felt like she was experiencing through the link, but she also knew that the other person in the room was not me. We had said goodbye this morning in the shower, as I had to run up to the Guild for some business meetings. She deducted correctly that Janey's partner in passion was Simone, and that was the reason for the verbal encouragement. Janey and Sally had both commented to me at the seeming inability of Nicole to feel anything on their link, and that Simone's link felt funny to them. The way they talked, it sounded as if they really pitied them that loss.
Nicole, however, didn't know who was with Janey, only that Janey seemed to be getting a good fucking, one of a lifetime, from the sounds of it. Whether to herself or if she meant Sally to hear wasn't clear, but she muttered, "The little bitch will be as big a slut as her soon." Of course, she muttered it in French. Then again, maybe it was Sally's fault for not informing Nicole she spoke fluent French and could understand the colloquial vulgarisms she constantly used when referring to her and Janey.
Needless to say, the comment didn't sit well with Sally. I had learned early on that malicious words would wound Sally worse than the whip. Those words from Nicole cut her deeply. Unbidden, a vengeful anger started to grow in her heart. Attack Sally and she would fight back, attack her and she would get vengeance.
Uncharacteristic of Sally, she ignored her anger. I had commanded her to be a mistress. She was trying to do her best. She also didn't want to embarrass Nicole by letting her know she understood French. There were things to do, preparations for the next visit by our friends. Sally still had to organize two more costumes for Nicole and Simone, and, as she had discovered, Nicole was domestically worthless. She couldn't cook, clean, sew, iron, or straighten up. What exactly was she to do with this worthless bitch?
Amud and Bala's next visit was to be a special occasion. Not only would Nicole and Simone be introduced to our friends and into the growing relationship we had with them, it was also the occasion for the first public dance performance by Janey. Bala had been working them hard, and Janey had excelled under her teaching. I truly appreciated the practice drills that Sally showed me, especially when she was impaled on my iron hard prick. But I think the very fact that she practiced with me defeated the purposes of the drills. She was still much improved from that first dance she did for me.
Finally all was in readiness for the evening. The women served Amud and I a sumptuous dinner, two delectable maidens served the wine, and the cigars were slowly smoldering down. It had been a delightful evening. My belly was full, my cock was hard, all was right with the world. I was beginning to look forward to a wild night with my lover, when the ching-ching of the music sounded. I leaned back to relax. I had forgotten about the premier.
The occasion of a first dance was special as the women were allowed to enter the main tent and sit with the men. Bala sat with Amud. Simone, Sally and Nicole came to sit with me, although Sally positioned Nicole so she was not near Amud or myself. I wondered at the intentional slight on her part, but just then Janey danced through the veiled door. Or should I say she floated through the door.
Her outfit, if it could be called that, was daring. It was beyond daring. It was blatant. It displayed all her womanly charms and then some. It highlighted her coloring. You could see the blush across the tops of her breasts. Hell, you could see everything! Even that her normally tiny trimmed bush was now missing. I don't know how that affected Amud, but my blood was sure boiling.
Her dance was short, but energetic and erotic in the extreme. Even the women seemed entranced with her sexuality. She twirled and twisted, wiggled and jiggled. I think it was probably a bit more acrobatic than a traditional dance, but Bala had worked wonders with what she had to work with. Looking over at my friends, I wasn't sure she was entirely pleased with Amud's obvious reaction to Janey's dancing. From the way Bala was lying across his lap there was no way she could miss his arousal. In fact, unless I missed my guess, that hand I couldn't see was probably wrapped around his throbbing swollen shaft. I chucked as I thought of what his night would be like with that wildcat of a wife.
At the conclusion of her dance, Janey ended up kneeling in front of me, her head to the ground. She seemed to be waiting for something. I looked over to Amud for a hint. He seemed to be somewhere else, although his eyes were still fixed on Janey's almost nude form.
"Amud?"
He started, as if from a dream. I almost hated to bring him back from where ever he had been. "Yes, my friend?"
"Is she waiting for something?"
He looked at Bala. Something passed between them, then he nodded his head. "Ah, yes. Bala has told the fresh one of the traditions of the first dance. In my country it is traditional for the dancer to request a favor of a sensual nature from her chosen benefactor. It is always granted if the dance is deemed to be acceptable."
He continued, "You seem to be her chosen benefactor," he sounded rather disappointed that Janey hadn't chosen him, but a sharp nudge from Bala cured that, "as she has ended her dance and bowed in front of you." He sighed, earning him another playful elbow from Bala.
"For my part, if she had chosen me, she would have had her most sexual of favors granted a million times over. Gladly." He got a rather sharp elbow for that remark, but the two were now laughing and showing more affection for one another than ever before in our presence.
I could see Janey blush from his compliment of her and his implication that he would enjoy doing much more with her. I let her stay bowed for a while, letting her catch her breath. Also, I was somewhat leery of granting favors, sensual or otherwise, before I knew what they were. But some things you just don't learn to resist, and a beautiful woman prostrate before me is almost always going to get her wish.
"Janey, your first dance is deemed to be acceptable," I intoned with all the pomposity I could muster. "What is your sensual pleasure?"
I expected her to ask for that car she had been bugging me for. The one with the leather seats. Or an expensive trinket, maybe. But nope, not my Janey!
"I want to go to that place you took the night of the concert."
I gasped. Sally paled. No one else in the room had a clue.
"You told me you didn't want to go there."
"I told you I wasn't ready. I am now. I'm not afraid of those feelings anymore and I am strong enough." I could almost here `I think' or `I hope' on the end of that.
My, my. My little is all grown up. But then I knew that. I had just seen her dance. Someone was going to be a very lucky someday, to have that body, that spirit to come home to each night.
"What place is she speaking of?" asked Amud, thinking that Janey was referring to a physical location.
Sally told them of the white crop I had used on her, how I had tied her and pushed her beyond any experience she had had before or since. It was beyond the singing. It was just beyond.
Bala turned to look at me. In awe she said, "You can see the dancing lights in a woman as she sings?"
I nodded.
Simone, still puzzled, asked Sally, "Janey wants Larry to whip her with a stick?"
Sally nodded.
Nicole had passed the point of credulity. Again she muttered, this time about Janey now being as big a tramp as her mother. Again in French. Bala and Amud both spoke French. So did I.
It was the last straw for Sally. Remind me to never push her too far. She was a blinding fury as she pummeled Nicole, screeching and shrieking as she did so. When Nicole was sufficiently limp, she dragged her by her hair out of the room. We heard the body thumping down the stairs to the first floor, then all was quiet.
Embarrassed at the outburst, I apologized to Amud. He gave me a quizzical look, like I was an idiot.
"Lawrence, my friend. You are a good master, but sometimes you do stupid things."
I must have looked puzzled.
"Sally, your beloved, is not like Bala. She cannot be mistress, too. It's is not in her aura. Different lights. Your new beloved, Nicole, is not mistress. Janey, she is young, she can learn both ways yet. Simone, she is a special one." He grinned. "You are one lucky son of the bitch, my friend, but I do not envy you."
He stopped and fixed me with a stare. "Learn to see your women, as a master. If you see the dancing lights, you are far beyond me in skill. But maybe I can help you with wisdom, no?"
With that, he indicated I should tend to Janey who was crying with gathering hysterics on the floor. Her debut was ruined, her request forgotten.
As I tended to Janey, finally getting her settled down, Amud and Bala quietly slipped out and drove home. Bala had seemed incredibly agitated, perhaps aroused, at Janey's dance and the ensuing conversation. Amud, to my surprise, had not seemed jealous of her attraction to Janey or to me. When I thought back, Bala may not have been envious of Amud's reaction to Janey, but could have actually been exciting him with her hand, enhancing his pleasure of the dance. Such non- possessiveness was strange to me, but seeing it in practice made me think it might work.
As Janey quieted down I carried her down to her room. Suddenly she cried out.
"Oh, God, Dad, she's killing her!"
"Who? Where?" I demanded immediately.
"M-M-Mom is beating Nicole. Downstairs. Daddy? Why is she so angry with Nicole? It hurts, oh God, it hurts...." Janey rolled over in tears, holding her stomach.
I dashed down to the dungeon, fully expecting the worst. I just hoped I wasn't too late to stop her from doing any permanent damage.
What I saw pained me. Sheer anger was being vented in a blind rage. My meek, mild Sally had strung Nicole up by her wrists and was using the heavy handle of a whip to bludgeon her face and torso. There was no thought to her wildly swinging blows, only rage.
My heart cried out to her to stop. I knew I couldn't reach her before she struck a couple of more times, so I did the only thing I could think of. I focused as I ran to her, thinking of an iceberg and then wrapped it around her. As corny as that sounds, it worked. She froze, so to speak, in mid-blow.
My first priority was to secure Sally where she couldn't harm Nicole any more. I led her gently over to a set of kneeling stocks and placed her head and hands in the appropriate half rounds, then closed and locked the top bar. We had never used this device before, but Sally had commented that if I ever wanted to punish her, that was the way. It seemed appropriate.
She hadn't resisted me. As soon as I had touched her she had gone limp. I knew she knew she had made a grievous error. So had I. Sally had known her limitations and had tried to tell me. I hadn't listened. I was too proud. This was my fault, too.
With Sally secured and unable to harm herself or Nicole, I cut down Nicole. Her wrists were bleeding from the plastic ties Sally had used. I wondered where those had come from. I hated those evil devices. Not only could they mark you permanently, they didn't have a lock to pick. I quickly examined the unconscious woman. As near as I could tell from a quick field exam, there were no broken bones. I was more worried about her spirit than her bones, though.
I carried her upstairs and took her into the Free Room. We hadn't had to use this room much before, but everything was there. A bed, a bathroom. I took the pistols I had placed there and put them away. I hadn't gone over everything with Nicole just yet, and didn't want her running around the house with a loaded gun. After Nicole was settled and as comfortable as I could get her, I went to find Simone to tell her that her was going to be OK and to try to explain to her what had happened.
I couldn't find Simone. I looked everywhere. I looked in on Janey to see if they were together. I checked the dungeon just to be sure. I searched the house. I checked my security system and ran a check for infrared heat sources. I could only count four in the house or on the grounds. I ran the security tape loop.
Three heat sources had left the house at nearly the same time. Two had gone together, one had slipped out just after the others were in their car.
I watched the tape from the outside security as the third heat source disappeared down the driveway and turned toward the nearest Interstate. To have been that visible, Simone must have been outside the car, riding on the rear bumper of Amud and Bala's limousine.
Simone had run away.
Chapter 35
I could have panicked. An underage I barely knew and had accepted responsibility for had just left for parts unknown, and I had only one clue where she might have gone. Her lay unconscious in my guestroom, beaten senseless by my lover. The unconscious would have to be tended by the of the woman who had just brutalized her. What, me worry?
After checking on Nicole, I went up to Janey's room. She was already getting dressed, her eyes still puffy and swollen from crying, but her face set and determined.
"Janey?"
"Be ready in a minute. Where do you think she went?"
"How'd you know she was gone? Oh, I see. Gee, you're getting pretty good with your link thing, aren't you."
"Yes, and you should be better than me, Dad. I mean, I can sense stronger than Mom, but she's real sneaky sometimes about what she knows, so I can't always tell. Simone and I can hook up pretty good, but she's way different than I am. Like, the last time we did each other, she was doing things to me I didn't think anyone but you could do. I made her stop, you know, it was too much. She's like you that way in that she can tell what turns me on, but still, she's no match for what you can do."
"What do you mean?"
She turned to me, exasperated but patient, like with a slow-witted child. "Dad. Stop thinking. Feel. Reach out. God! You can do it when you don't think about, you know? I felt what you did to downstairs."
I must have looked surprised.
Janey explained, "Don't you know what you did? You were shouting how much you loved her, how this was all your fault, how you would try to make things right, but to please STOP! I mean, you weren't making words with your mouth or anything, you were like shouting in your mind, or something. It was really clear. You were really scared, not just for Nicole, but for Mom, too. That sort of made me feel good. Then I got really, really cold. Stop thinking of pictures, will you? I mean, it works sometimes, but Geez, an iceberg? Be a little easier on us weaklings, why don't you."
"You got all that, all the way up here?"
"Clear as a bell, Dad. Just stop thinking. Feel. Can you feel now? Can you tell what she's feeling?"
I stopped and felt. I reached out for Sally. I found her, waiting for me. A lump formed in my throat. Shit. And I thought I felt bad. I sent her my love.
"Don't worry. She'll get over it. She knows you love her. That's all she needs to know right now. She also knows she really screwed up, too. And that you will fix it. She trusts you. She loves you. I trust you, too."
She finished tying her shoes. "Where do we start looking for Simone?"
I was taken aback for a minute. "Uh, would you mind holding down the fort here? I kind of need you to look after Nicole. She's unconscious right now, but nothing's broken, I hope. But when she comes to, I need you to make sure she's OK. If she's not, call the hospital and get her there.
"Your stays in the basement until I come back home with Simone, or until I give up. That could be a long time. Tough. Let her out of the stocks one hour a day for a shower and exercise. You can change her bondage if you think the stocks are too much for her. I don't know how long I will be gone, so use your judgement. I do not want to injure her.
"You may give her updates on Nicole's progress and anything I tell you to relay to her on the telephone. Otherwise silence. No chit chat, no making her feel better. You'll need to feed her at least one meal while she's in restraints. She cleans up her own messes on her free hour. It will stink down there, so be prepared for it."
Janey nodded, agreeing with everything I said, even the tough parts.
"You're in charge, kiddo. I trust you, too. Remind Nicole about the Free Room rules and that she can stay there as long as she wants. That's where I put her. Oh, the guns are put away, so you won't need to worry about her getting a hold of one. Other than that, be sure to sleep when you can, even if it's during the day. You're going to need it. I'll call when I can."
She rushed into my arms. "Thanks, Dad, for taking charge. I'm glad you're letting me do something."
I held her away from me. "You're not disappointed you're not going with me to look for Simone?"
"That's your job. Besides, if you had to worry about me, I'd just mess up your sensing thing. You have enough trouble with it, as it is." Always the critic. At least she was smiling when she said that.
"Good. I'm off then." With that, I turned and left the house, knowing Janey would take charge. Just like Sally would, if she could.
I called Amud on his cell phone from my car as I headed for the Interstate.
"Amud, I'm sorry to disturb you, but Simone left the house with you this afternoon."
"My friend, as lovely as the child is, I did not kidnap her, I swear."
"Amud, again I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply you had anything to do with it. I didn't make myself clear. She left the house riding on your car. On the back bumper. She has run away."
"Oh, dear!"
"Yes. I need to know the first stop you made after you left the house that she could have gotten off. Probably in a city or large town."
He thought a minute. "Oh, yes. We stopped in at a leather warehouse over near the new stadium. From there we are now heading home."
"Thank yo...."
"Lawrence? Lawrence? Hello? Here is Bala. The girl, the new one, she is missing, no?" From the blustering in the background, I could tell Amud was not happy that his little had snatched the cell phone from him. I smiled, in spite of the circumstances. He would enjoy reminding her of his mastery over her. I knew she would enjoy it also.
"Yes, Bala. I have to find her."
"Use the lights, Lawrence. Don't think, just use lights. You great master, use it. Find the precious one." She then got all soft, unlike the Bala I knew. "I like her. Please. She is very special."
"I know. I like her, too, Bala. Goodbye, and thank you." I rung off, slightly puzzled by their comments.
You know, it was beginning to irritate me. With all advice I had been getting lately to quit thinking, I was beginning to think..., well there I went again, thinking. Anyway, perhaps people were trying to tell me I did too much of it, or maybe that I didn't do it well. I wasn't sure. I decided not to think about it.
I had a haystack, a place to start. All I needed to do now was find the needle. Piece of cake. Yeah, right.
The warehouse Amud mentioned was in an industrial area, busy on the weekdays, but almost deserted at night and weekends. I could hear the ruckus from the tail end of a Heavy Metal band concert in the stadium a couple of blocks over. This being a Friday evening, I figured Simone got here just when the streets were empty, the workers gone home, the concert in full swing. A pretty young girl, alone, would stick out like a sore thumb on these naked streets.
I sat in my car, at a loss for what to do next. I had driven to the spot Amud had stopped. I parked in a No- Parking zone across from the local police precinct. Even it was deserted at this time of the week, manned by just a skeleton crew of rookies. It had been too much to hope that Simone would be standing there waiting for me. I know it was na‹ve of me, but I had hoped, just a little.
I closed my eyes in quiet frustration and lay my head against the steering wheel of the car. I may have cried for her, I don't know. I guess I really had wanted her to be there, tears on her face, cold from the long ride on the bumper, frightened of the strange darkness, a big van, a friendly face, kind of, kind of cinnamon smell, candy, a warm car, warm blanket, warm up, feels good, food, voices, laugh, a funny laugh, money through the window, a door opening suddenly, a bad man, fear, scared, ...
I woke up with a start. What the Hell was that? I looked at my watch. No. I hadn't been asleep. Simone! I knew I was sensing Simone, seeing what Simone was sensing. Somewhere near, close, but going away now. Then just blank, like she was drugged. I had felt the needle jab into her leg. I could sense her drift away, then it was still, not any feelings from her at all.
I found myself out of my car. I could sense better outside in the open. I couldn't get a bearing on a direction with this sensing thing and it frustrated the shit out of me. I just wandered the streets, hoping to sense when it was stronger, when she was closer. She was so close...
I wandered the streets looking for her, half running, stumbling, walking. Looking for her senses. Just a trace, anything. I found that the harder I tried, the fainter she got. I lost all sense of time and of myself. I immersed myself into her aura, and just kept wandering, apparently aimlessly.
It happened so suddenly. I distinctly felt it when she woke up, the pain, the slaps across our cheeks, a kick in the ribs, one broke. I hurt, she hurt. Too far away, now, she was going away again. Another needle, another sleepless dream, floating. I followed that dream, walking blindly through streets.
Then the started coming. I could see them, what they were doing to her, to us. We were ashamed, please, no more, not again. The sense from Simone started to fade, but wasn't moving away anymore. She was going into hiding, into her shell. It was her only defense, her last hope. I sent her a message, but I didn't know if she got it. I was coming. Hold on. Then it was just like static on an open radio signal.
I kept wandering, trying to find her. The streets were empty through Saturday and Sunday. Monday I had to dodge traffic as I stumbled along the sidewalks. I don't remember if I slept or not. I do remember I stopped looking at people as people. I started looking at them as lights. I wasn't surprised to find most people were pretty dim, if they had any light at all.
Tuesday came and went and I was getting desperate. Just before I collapsed in a doorway, I heard it.
"Help me. Please."
Simone! She was close! I looked around and saw her light. There were no windows in that abandoned building, but I saw her lights. Dimming, but there. I knew it was her.
I found my way into the building and damn near fell down the dilapidated steps into the cellar. It stunk of fresh and shit. I began a frantic search for her in the dark cavernous spaces. The lights from her had gone back out. There was only static again.
I found her. She was naked, bruised and barely conscious. They had used a staple gun to fasten clumps of her hair to a wooden post. She was hanging by her hair in a position where she couldn't stand upright or sit or kneel. The muscles of her thin legs had supported her as long as they could in the awkward position, but they had given out days ago. The floor around her was in places several inches deep in feces and pools of urine. It couldn't have been all hers.
The two surprised me as I was vomiting. Given their poor fighting skills, my retching wasn't much of a disadvantage. I disabled the big one first. He was obviously the bodyguard. The asshole was trying to pull an Uzi out from under his jacket, if you can imagine that. The clip or barrel or something got caught on his belt, but by that time, it didn't matter. His knee when one way, he went the other, shit splashing everywhere as he landed hard. He dropped his Uzi when he grabbed for his knee. I kicked him in the head for insurance, then kicked the gun into a far corner.
The smaller man, a pimp by his dress, was smarter. I could tell because he had chosen a more appropriate weapon. He had his knife out and was trying to appear as if he was ready for me. I like fighting idiots with knives. Mainly because most fighters don't know how to use them and it makes the motherfuckers overconfident. They always get a big one like Rambo or that crocodile guy and the weight tends to throw them off balance. Then they fucking hold them upside down, like I'm going to be stupid enough to step inside his down-swinging arm. This pimp with the yellow hat had really overcompensated for his inadequacies with the monster blade he was holding. I left him writhing on the floor, the knife buried to the hilt in his thigh, right where he had it aimed. The knife had driven clear through his leg with the tip stuck firmly into the wooden floor. I knew he wasn't going anywhere for a while.
I was trying to get Simone free when the third guy jumped me. He would have had me clean, too, but he slipped in the shit trying not to get too close. A little schmutz, and I would have been dead. As it was, he still got my arm good with the deadly little knife he was using. I think he thought he had me, now that I was wounded, but he was wrong. He made the fatal mistake of letting me get too close to him. Once I'm in close, well, he died surprised. As I pushed his lifeless body off me, I gave a start of recognition. It took me a moment, but I finally placed him. He had been in some of the pictures Gary had taken of Sally during her humiliation.
I managed to free Simone using the knife I pulled out of my forearm. I simply cut her hair free from the staples and picked her up. They had not tied her arms and she latched on to my neck with what seemed to be all her feeble strength. I thought I felt her sob once, but wasn't sure. Sensing the urgency of flight, I kept trying to find my way to the stairs but my head wouldn't seem to work. Every time I tried to look for the door out of the room, my nose kept turning back to the same dark corner. I would take a step to turn, and my head would swing like a compass needle pointing north. Same damn corner, every time.
I finally realized Simone was yanking on my ear, forcing me to look at that particular corner. Understand, I was brain-dead, tired, stabbed and trying to escape, my survival instincts in complete command. My mission was over. I had Simone. It was Miller time. I was like a headed for the barn, ASAP. I did not want to look in that stinking corner.
She was insistent, and my ear was starting to hurt. I went over to the fucking corner. Nothing. I started to turn away. My ear just about got torn off.
"What the fucking hell do you want!" I yelled at her in my mind.
"Please. Hidden. Shiny. Silver. Important," came the faint reply over our link. It wasn't exactly words but images. I didn't really understand.
I shuffled around in the debris piled in the corner until my foot kicked into an aluminum case. It was heavy, and now my fucking foot hurt, too. I picked it up with my good hand. Simone grasped my neck tighter, easing the work I had to do with my injured arm. Where she got the strength I don't know.
My ear released from her grip, I found an exit. On the way out and up the stairs, I stumbled. I tripped over a lit kerosene lamp one of the had left on the stairway. It fell to the basement floor and broke open. The newspapers that cluttered the floor caught fire easily. The dry timbers of the crumbling warehouse exploded into flames, engulfing the three bodies in the cellar.
I heard screams as I walked away, carrying Simone. It didn't bother me at all.
As I cleared the killing zone, as I thought of it, I had to stop and think where I was. I realized I was many miles from my car. I was in the middle of an area I didn't recognize right away. I couldn't see the stadium. I couldn't see any landmarks or familiar buildings at all until I got to the next large intersection. God! I was two towns over from where I had parked.
It was night, there were no buses running in this part of town. No taxis were going to stop for me, not with the way I looked after four days of wandering around, bleeding from a big gash in my arm and carrying an unconscious naked stinky little girl. I headed for the one safe house I knew in this town.
Mac didn't recognize me at first when he opened his door. I just hoped he would take over now. I collapsed in his doorway.
Chapter 36
I woke up in a hospital. I knew that before I opened my eyes. I could smell the familiar antiseptic odors. My arm felt stiff and sore. I could feel the bandaging they had used on the stab wound. Oh well, another battle scar.
I kept my eyes closed and tried to link to Simone. I was startled to find her so close. She was in the bed next the chair I was sitting in. Sensing she was safe, I drifted off to sleep again.
When I woke up again, it was dark. Simone was still asleep, resting easy. I had been having some very weird dreams. When I noticed she was holding my finger, much like Janey had done when I had sat by her bed, I suspected Simone and I had been communicating over a similar link between us. I seemed to know her better now. She was, indeed, a special person.
The dream had seemed so real, interactive. I had been on a beach, and thousands, millions of others were there, too. The fine white sand seemed to for eternity in both directions. When I looked down, I couldn't focus on the sand around me, but it seemed so real I could feel it between my toes. Most of the people along the beach were building sandcastles. Some castles were bigger than others were, as those people had others helping them. Some others were struggling by themselves to build one that could stand against the relentless waves.
Some people along the beach were raging at the sea, kicking at the water, trying futilely to keep the waves from their sandcastles. As I watched, the waves would come and wash away their castles or the castles of the people near them. They were trying to stop the waves. The waves would strike at random. You could never tell when the waves would come, who would have to start over, who would be wiped out, or whose castle would be touched. Some sandcastles were barely touched by the waves, some the waves wiped out. Wherever the water touched a sandcastle there was sadness.
Sometimes the people would stop building and just wander out into the waves, to become a part of the vastness. Most of us just kept building our castles. Like I was doing.
I had a bucket in my hand full of sand. When I examined the sand in the bucket carefully, though, I saw the grains were made up of the faces of Simone and Nicole. When I looked at my sandcastle, I and I saw that the sand there, too, was made up of faces, faces I knew. I saw my parents, my sister, Sally and Janey. Mac was there, as were others, some alive, some long dead. I put the new bucket onto my castle and Nicole's and Simone's faces became part of the whole.
Looking up, I saw Simone was there on the beach beside me. The remains of two small ruined sandcastles were visible beside her as she bravely attempted to build yet another around the face of her mother. I saw in her sand the face of an elderly gentleman that I knew was the she called Papa. The other in the ruins was younger. It looked as if she had kicked that pile over herself, her tiny footprints visible in the white sand, long deep scars where she had tried to kick the face of that evil away form her. But that sand, that face, was still a part of her castle, a part of her.
Simone wasn't raging at the waves as were many others in less tragic conditions. The waves had touched her as it had them, yet she persevered. I could also see she was being very careful now, selecting the material for her castle with greater care. She stood holding an empty bucket, another was off to one side. Janey's face was in her castle now, the new sand still bright and shiny. I could see my face in the bucket she had set aside. She was scared to mix it in with her mother's sand. Unsure.
Suddenly, in my dream, I was telling a story, teaching a history class. When I would turn to look at the students, they would all have the same face, the face of Simone. All of them asked different questions, throwing them at me faster than I could answer as if time was running out. I tried to answer as many as I could, but some of them I knew I wasn't allowed to answer, secrets from my past I could not share. Some of the questions were easy. Some were hard. Others I didn't know the answers to. The bell rang and the questions stopped.
We were back on the beach. Simone was turning to me smiling. Both buckets were empty. My face was in her castle. I waved my hands and a space opened in the walls of my own castle. When I looked around I could see that Sally had her castle right next to mine, each adding support to the other. Janey's was there, too, as was Nicole's. I invited Simone to place her own castle within the protection of mine, of my family's. I could tell she wanted to, but she was hesitant, afraid. It was not a feeling she was used to.
We were in the delicate and difficult process of moving her sandcastle closer to mine when I woke up.
I tried to sit up. A pair of strong hands was there immediately to help me.
"I called your house. Janey answered. She said to tell you someone named `Bala' came over to help out. Said you would want to know everything is OK and that Sally is still in the basement, whatever that means. Nicole, whoever she is, is awake and responsive and didn't need to go the hospital. Now that you know everything is OK, Lar, you want to tell me just what the fuck's going on? Who are all those people?"
I relaxed as I heard the rapid-fire reassurances from my friend. All the little things I hadn't been able to think of, he had. Damn, it was good to hear his voice.
I smiled. "Mac! You should really watch your language around impressionable kids, you know?" Mac had grown up on the streets in a very rough neighborhood. Ever since high school I had ribbed him about his rough language, helping him smooth out some rough edges. In return, he taught me to fight dirty and about the hard facts of life in the real world. We both learned and improved, better individuals for our friendship.
He punched my arm, the good one. "Damn you, Lar, I've been stuck in here for three days waiting for you to wake up and tell them I had nothing to do with this. Whatever this is. What is this, anyway, and who the Hell are you and what have you done with my friend Larry Sampson?"
"Oh, God, Mac, where do I start..."
"He can't tell you."
The two of us turned our heads as one to look at the clear, sweet voice coming from the bed. Simone was awake.
She repeated, "He can't tell you. He has integrity." She said that last word as if it were the most important thing in the world that a could have. She may be right.
"Damn, Lar, who is the beautiful woman who uses big words with such a lovely accent?"
"Excuse my manners. Mac, this is Simone. Simone, Mac."
He stuck out his hand, "Hi, Simone." His trademark grin that had won him more than one fair maiden lit up his face.
"Pleased to meet you, Monsieur Mac." She said his name with her delightful accent, and giggled at his response to her. I had seen Mac in many situations, but I had never seen him this flustered. I swear, he even blushed.
"I can get her to explain any big words you don't understand, OK, lughead?"
"Fuck you!"
"Monsieur Mac!" That reprimand came from her, followed by another laugh. I had never observed that particular behavior they called coquettish before, but it was truly amazing to see this teenaged keep Mac tongue- tied and off balance.
After several minutes of valiantly waging a losing battle, he turned to me for rescue. "Help me out here, please! So help me God, I want to take her home with me. But if you dare tell CeCe I said that, I'll make you pay for our lunches for the next 10 years."
"I'm tempted to tell you to go fuck yourself, Mac," I laughed, grinning at him. "But I don't think I could afford you for the next 10 years with your new contract." Mac had gone on a tear at the plate the last month of the season. It hadn't been enough to get the team into the play-offs, but it sure brought up the gate receipts, which is what counts. He had been expected to just be a part-time replacement for an injured player. He had far out-performed expectations. I knew he would, given the chance.
When the opposing pitchers kept getting hit, they started walking him. Trouble with that was that Mac firmly believed in scoring. Baseball to him was simple. You get on, you score. He brought an exciting sandlot quality to an aging team, invigorating the whole team in the process. If you walked him to first, he would steal the next three bases, including home plate. The fans loved it. So did management. They had just signed him to a huge contract for the next 3 seasons.
"Lawrence, is he OK?" Simone asked quietly.
I knew what she meant. Was he safe to have in her sandcastle? Would he her, leaving her to trample more sand?
"Uh, `Monsieur Mac', as you have dubbed him, is my closest and best friend. I would, and have, trusted him with my life and yours. I hope someday you will find a friend as good as he is to me. I can't tell you if he will be good for you, but I would bet he would be. That decision has to be up to you. Always."
"It is frightening, Lawrence. How can I be sure who to trust?"
"Trust your mother. Trust Sally. Trust Janey. Learn from them, watch them, see how they measure people, who they let into their lives."
"But Gary, and that other man..." she didn't finish.
"Don't hold your responsible for Gary, Simone. Sally fell for him, too. We all need to learn from our mistakes and the mistakes of others."
"I know." She looked up at Mac with her sparkling blue eyes, her decision made. I knew he was a goner. He was going to be a part of her sandcastle whether he liked it or not. Something told me he wouldn't mind. CeCe's opinion was another matter, but one bridge at a time.
A first for Mac, he had not interrupted this short exchange. He was puzzled at some things we were saying, others began to make sense.
"So, anybody want to tell me what you were doing on my doorstep covered in blood and shit? Can you tell me that much?"
I looked over at Simone, who nodded for me to tell him.
"Remember a couple of weeks ago, that serial killer they caught?"
He nodded, shuddering at the reminder. It was still fresh in most people's minds. Even with his tough background, some things still touched you hard.
"He was Sally's boyfriend before she kicked him out."
"You mean the one where she just about shot apart her house when she kicked him out, oh about four or five years ago?"
"You knew about that and didn't tell me?"
"Well, yeah, CeCe told me but she said Sally would tell you. I thought you knew. Honest!"
"Thanks, buddy. Thanks a lot. Anything else you want to tell me about my fianc‚e before I start?"
He shook his head sheepishly. I knew he hadn't meant to keep it from me. I continued the abridged version and told him the about Sally and Gary, then of us seeing Gary, Nicole and Simone together at the symphony. I told him what I had done to set Gary up, just not the connections I used or how I had made them. He assumed they were from my financial clients. I let him.
I also glossed over exactly why Nicole and Simone were staying with us, and what led to Simone running away, just that there were some adjustment issues around the house to work out. Then I turned to Simone and asked her to tell both of us what had happened from that point, as I was curious, too.
Simone lowered her eyes and spoke to her hands, which were folded on her lap. Her voice was clear and her words concise, no fear apparent in them.
"I was so jealous of Janey. She is so beautiful and her dance was perfect. I will never be like her. She has so many friends. It is so hard for me to speak with people my own age, especially the boys. I try, but I always say the wrong things and make them feel stupid. I don't mean to. For Janey it is so easy. Everyone likes Janey.
"I was angry at her for being so perfect. I did something awful. I told one of her friends, a she really liked, something that made him not like her. It was a lie. She found out. It her, and she cried at night for several nights. She did not hate me, though, and that made me feel so small. In fact, she tried harder, spending more time with me, helping me. I had never done anything like that before, to try to hurt someone. It made me feel so dirty inside. It shamed me.
"I know she tried so hard to make me feel welcome, but it was still her room, her home. I missed my things, too. You took us in to your home to help us, but it was not my home. Mama felt the same way, a little. Please understand, we were grateful for the help you gave to us, but it our pride to need it.
"I was angry with Mama, too, for saying those ugly things about Janey. It was not the first time. Mama isn't like that, really. Please do not hate her, Lawrence, she is very frightened and alone. She needs to have a such as you take care of her. But she kept saying bad things, worse and worse. I think she was afraid you would not want me around with Janey so perfect, so she tried to make her less perfect by saying those things about her. I warned her that Mist- , er, Sally was becoming angry with her. She didn't care.
"Then after the dance Mama said that horrible thing about Janey. My Mama is bigger and stronger than Sally, but I have never seen such a rage in a person. I wanted to stop her from hurting Mama, but I couldn't move my feet. It happened so fast, too. I could feel Sally's rage with that thing Janey showed me. The intensity of her madness terrified me and kept me from moving. I was ashamed to be so weak and useless when my Mama needed me most.
"When that nice couple left, I hid on the back of their car. I am sorry for running away, Lawrence. I did not mean to go. I did not mean to cause you so much trouble. I thought if I were not there, Mama would not have to worry about you not wanting me around. If I were not there, I would not have to live with Janey and be compared to her perfection. At least, that's what I told myself later, as we both know those are just excuses, really. In all honesty, at the time, I did not think at all, Lawrence. For once in my life that I can remember, I did not think. I just did it.
"I had gone outside to get away from the things in my head. I could still hear Mama screaming. I could sense Sally's rage. I could feel the thump of Mama's body as she was pulled down the stairs. I could feel the hairs pulling out of her head. I had to get away, as far from the pain and screaming and rage as possible. I am sorry I was so weak.
"Their car was leaving and I ran and jumped on. I didn't think. I had to do it before it got too far away and once I took that first step, I was flying. I have never felt so free before. I was doing something without planning it out. Without knowing what would happen. My heart was racing from the excitement and the wind felt wonderful on my face. Such exhilaration I have never felt before. I was free!
"The first part of the ride was like a magic carpet. I was gliding along. Then the went too fast and I got frightened. I couldn't see the exit signs because my eyes would water in the wind. The temperature dropped as it got dark and I got cold. I kept my eyes closed most of the ride so I didn't know what road I was on. I got off at the first stop of the car, but by then, I was cold and lost. I didn't know where I was. I started walking towards the lights of the big sports arena and the music, looking for a telephone or a store. A big van drove by me as I was walking along, I think maybe twice. The second time it went by then backed up. I was so cold, I was shaking.
"A nice in the van asked me if I would like a ride. I said no. He said just get in to get warm, it was cold out tonight, and it looked like rain. He said he would just drive me around to find a telephone, then bring me back to where I was standing. I said no. He asked me if I was hungry. I am sorry for all the trouble I have caused you, Lawrence, but I was so cold and hungry. I did not eat at the dinner, I had been too excited with all the new things Bala was teaching us. The nice pulled a big sandwich out of a bag and took a bite. I could smell it though the open window. The juices dripped down his chin and he reminded me of Papa. Just a little. It looked so good. I am sorry, but I got in.
"He started driving around. I wrapped up in a blanket in the back, as far from him as I could. It was so nice and warm. He gave me a cup of hot chocolate, to help me warm up first, he said. It tasted funny and I think he had put something in it. But it was warm and I drank it all. I felt a little funny later, but not bad. I suddenly didn't care if he didn't take me to a telephone or back to where he picked me up anymore.
"He made a phone call while we were driving around. I didn't pay any attention to where we were going. I felt like I was floating. I didn't care about anything anymore. Soon we were far away from the sports arena. He stopped the van by another car on this dark street with all these broken buildings. An ugly in a yellow hat looked at me and made an ugly laugh. I didn't like him. He handed the nice some money. Suddenly the door I was leaning against was yanked open. A big ripped the blanket away from me. I felt the cold again and I screamed. He hit me. Then he stuck a needle in my leg.
"I woke up where you found me. I felt you coming, I think, but I had to hide. They..., they did bad things to me. I got thirsty, and they peed in my mouth. When I got hungry, they backed up to my face and defecated on me. The other men, they always kept coming and using me, in my mouth, in my bottom, everywhere. They paid money to the in the yellow hat to use me.
"When you found me, they were getting ready to move me to another place. The said someone had paid cash for me and I was going far away, w
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