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 tale in which physical acts and human responses are not limited to, nor necessarily based in, reality. Some acts and responses in this story may be physically impossible and/or physiologically improbable. Also, as is the case with most of the stories in this newsgroup, all the women in this story are beautiful - gorgeous, even. Gravity has not caused breasts 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 story 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 story 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 story 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 story 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 story 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 story 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 story 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 farm club mentioned are not. The medical devices in this story 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 story 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 parents 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 young girl 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 sheep 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 daughter 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 hurt 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 red 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 men 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 family 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 old 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 red 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 older than Janey. They had met because he was a star player and she was a cheerleader. As a freshman, she was the youngest girl 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 guys 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 boys 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 Mom for permission to go. She and her Mom 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 parents 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 older boy 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 boy 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 Mom 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 stretch of road that parallels the river. All along this stretch there are private, isolated spots where you can pull just a few feet off the road, and your car is all but hidden 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 panties 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 panties 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 vagina 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 cum 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 split 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 guys underestimate just how much energy goes into cheerleading, how toned and muscled those young 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 breasts 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 men 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 tale 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 boy 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 daughter 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 split 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 man 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 father 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 panties 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 parents 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 piss 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 boy 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 father 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 hurt 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 girl I had watched grow into a young 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 boy 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 mother and daughter. His apparent progress with the beautiful girl 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 guys involved. There was jealousy on the part of some of the girls that prompted their participation, too. Steven implicated three of the cheerleaders for setting up the party, providing the booze, and verifying what color panties Janey had been wearing that night. The girl's panties 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 panties 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 panties down around her ankles. Janey was sure the door had been locked, but, as the girl 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 video showing her doing one of her trademark kicks. Overnight, she became known as "The high-kicking cheerleader" in the media. Her picture and that video 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, old 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 girl 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 guys 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 old 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 sister 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 daughter 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 young 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 parents 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 boys 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 daughter 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 man 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 young girls before, but the fucking teacher's union was strong in this state and he just kept on molesting - all right, allegedly molesting, young 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 man 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 stocking 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 tits 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 tits 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 blonde 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 pussy 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 cum 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 stretch 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 mature 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 picture 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 man 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 red 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 older 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 daughter 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 young teenager, but if you two are sharing the same man 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 hurt 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 man to some fresh- faced young 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 cum 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 daughter 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 sucked 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 cum again. But she hadn't defaulted by moving, moaning or sucking. I glanced at the clock. She had cum 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 daughter 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 cum 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, sucked 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 jism 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 breasts 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 tits 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 hurt 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 young 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 men and two women, all strangers. Gary pulled her over and told her to watch her slut mother 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 cum down her white cotton blouse. He held her there and forced her to watch her mother 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 man 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 father and I were married when I was 19. He was much older, a businessman and I was a trophy wife. He saw me at the local college 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 Man 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 hurt 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 cunt 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 pussy 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 cunt 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 old 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 movie 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 Mom 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 family 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 TV 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 boobs 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 tits 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 family 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 cowboy 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 red 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 boy 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 red 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 cunt 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 swallow it, as that seemed what she was determined to do. I had hoped to distract her by fingering her cunt 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 cunt 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 swallow 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 girls 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 sucking throat. It was extremely painful. It hurt 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 family room. In retrospect, seeing your Mom 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 thick pulsing cock. And a very determined man 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 daughter for the first time. She focused on her special link with daughter and her own extreme 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, young 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 mother 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 man 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 mother made the decision for her. She padded toward us, slowly at first, then with more confidence, more like the old 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 mother 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 Mom 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 daughter 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 girl 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 young 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, young lady; you are one absolutely beautiful girl. If you keep on running around with nothing on but things like that sexy thick old sweat suit that you have on now, throwing your gorgeous, cloth-covered tits 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 red 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 family 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 old 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 Mom 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 red panties. Yup, we sure had some really hot times under there, and in the locker rooms, both the boys 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 Mom looks sexy in my outfit?" I figured she was thinking about how much alike they looked. If Mom 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 cheerleader 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 model 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 hole in my slacks. I couldn't take my eyes off the photo of her, bound and gagged, the red leather of taut straps encircling her body, highlighting her blonde 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 old girl's chest, pinning her back against his groin, forcing her to watch her mother being sexually humiliated by four men and two women. He was the fifth man 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 blonde 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 breasts 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 shirt 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 young 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 old family friend and his wife 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 red 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 wife 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 pig 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 older 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 old 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 old man 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 father before his appointment to the bench. I, uh, dated their daughter 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 daughter still thinks of me as her property sort of, and they were expecting her to arrive at any moment. Her mother supports her daughter 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 old 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 girls 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 girls 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 daughter 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 Mom 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 Mom 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 Mom 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 blonde 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 Mom 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 breasts 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 mother 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 hurt 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 mother 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 young man 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 young 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 young man 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 wife 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 man to talk to wife 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 wife 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 picture 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, young 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 swallow 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 wife 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 girls "...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 girl 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 old horse 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 young cow not good, can use in bottom hole 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 wife 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 men burn off lower point of young brides. Take life out of bride, but old men can then have many brides. They no fight, they no care." He turned defiant, as if remembering an old argument. "I not an old 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 man 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 wife 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 thick 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 breasts 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 hurt 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 old 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 wife 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 pussy the entire length. This activity had an effect on the hanging girl and she began moaning through the gag. "Fresh one almost sing. Like mother, need practice. Lucky man." She paused. "Sorry bad man take flower of Fresh one. But no hurt left, here or in head. She still tight for long nights use with hose. Good as goat path, uh, back hole for long time." Amud had apparently told her the story 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 wife gently, but firmly, overrode his objection. She turned and left the room. "Mr. Sampson, sir. My wife 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 wife 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 hurt in head go away, in heart, too. "My wife 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 wife 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 wife 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 wife was about half way through knotting the thong. He looked at her lovingly. "My wife 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 wife 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 wife 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 hidden 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 young 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 men 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 wife was almost ready to begin. Chapter 13 Amud and I watched from one side as his wife 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 young 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 young girl, a crooning from a mother 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 sister for wedding night with Adar. Him camel dung merchant. Lea, my sister 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 man in empire. He desired my sister's hand for years, since she was seven years old. My father 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 father sign. He gave my father a choice: Daughter or poverty. "Pride is terrible sin. My father reasoned if we in poverty, my sister 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 father 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 wife swung the free ends in a figure '8', making rapid fire 'slap-slap' sounds as she covered Janey's body with a deeper red 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 wife 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 wife 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 girl 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 blonde head rested on my shoulder. I could hear a contented purring, very feline. As I held her, she nuzzled into my shirt and vibrated as aftershocks of her experience rippled through her body. A heavy sigh followed. Amud's wife 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 wife 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 wife 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 mother 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 Mom over their link having overwhelmed her. Then it was over. Chapter 14 After a surprisingly short rest, both girls 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 wife 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 wife 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 wife 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 girls 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 blonde woman standing in readiness beside it. The older 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 mother 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 wife and daughter 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 wife 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 sister a thrill. My sister was older 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 hurt 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 mother and daughter 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, vagina 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 men 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 stretch 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 men 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 mother and hiding the daughter 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 man 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 family 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 wife - 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 girl and measured the length and breadth. Cunt 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 man 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 red 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 guys have all the luck." Our laughter met the arriving service personnel, all attractive young 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 tits "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 boobs 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 thick 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 guys 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 mother 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 man 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 man 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 guys 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 young 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 man as big as his voice barreled out into the room, caught sight of me and came straight over. The guys 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 guys 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 guys and whether they could control themselves. He wasn't the only one who was worried. I knew most of the guys 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 men 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 shirt 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 boys 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 guys '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 college 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 breast 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 man 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 guys had behaved themselves admirably, under the circumstances. The parking lot was deserted as we walked to my car. As I reflected, my girls 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 daughter 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 Mom 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 hole 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! Mom 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 Mom 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 wife 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 man 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 guys 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, young lady." Her woeful look with those big puppy dog 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 Mom 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 hole 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 girl 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 girl 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 man 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 Mom 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 cunt 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 Mom 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 girl 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 Story of O' that I found in the library stuck behind the encyclopedias." "Oh, great! Just fucking great! Well, young 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 split 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 tits 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 pussy 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 pussy 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 hurt 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 pissing 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 guys were going to love me. Maybe I could get a quantity discount. Later, resting, we three snuggled. It was different, but great, having two blonde 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 man 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 Mom 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 sucked 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 girls that the next day was going to be another Family Day. I got mixed reviews, but nothing that really indicated trouble. The two petite 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 panties 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 shirt 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 young 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 panties 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 mother 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 sucking 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 shirt 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 hurt voice. "Was that you? Did you make me cum 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 hurt 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 model 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 mother 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 hurt 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 old 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 girls 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 girls 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 girl 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 thick 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 college 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 man 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 wife 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 animals and animal 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 man 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 breasts 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 thick sweet coffee in his hands. With a `ting-ting,' the curtains parted and a willowy figure entered our enclosure. Amud's wife 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 wife 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 wife 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 men 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 man 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 mother 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 wife 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 hurt 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 hurt 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 thick 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 man has with watching himself pee. It stays with a man 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 urine 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 split 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 red 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 sucked 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 cum 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 sucked the cock into my mouth. All for my Mistress, because She willed it. I was bobbing and sucking 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 cum 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 homosexual 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, red 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 family 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 family 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 young 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 man in a room full of excited young girls towards the kitchen door, my erection pointing the way. The girls 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 red 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 girls 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 young stuff. Shit. Nobody called the cops?" "Not yet. But the day is still young 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 mother 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? Guys 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 breasts 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 girl gets horny hearing all that screaming. And those moans Mom 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 mother 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 Mom 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 red 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 red 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 red 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 extreme 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 family 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 Asian 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 tits 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 family 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 Asian 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 family 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 girls 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 family room where their hair was done. At my instructions, Janey's blonde 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 older when she was finished. Sally was made up just as skillfully, looking regal but more like her sister 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 mother 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 panties were virginal white and had a matching garter belt. I had a sense it would be her first, but the sheer white stockings 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 family 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 stockings 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 stocking 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 wife 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 hidden 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 cum 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 hidden 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 hole 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 tits 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 cum 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 mother sucking my cock and me. "I was just explaining to your mother 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 girl 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 movie 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, young 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 animals 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 guys 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 daughter 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 picture 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 picture 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 girl 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 daughter 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 cum 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 mother watched this from above, her mouth never moving off of the head of my cock. It must have been strange for her, watching her daughter 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 cum 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 cum 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 cum 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 guys 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 man does not need a big cock to bring pleasure to a woman." "Does it hurt 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 hurt 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 girls at school were talking about blow jobs, putting their boyfriend's thingy in their mouth and then sucking on it. Is that what Mom 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 Mom and I had a bet once that she could make me cum 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 man 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 pussy 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 Mom 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 Mom 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 Mom 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 Mom 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 man 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 Mom 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 swallow that white stuff? Some of the girls thought that would be gross, but they hadn't done it, so they didn't know. Doesn't a guy pee 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 Mom 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 Mom 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 cum 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 cum 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 cum 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 breasts 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 young tits 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 breasts 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 swallow the thick 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 swallow 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 Mom 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 Mom first proposed that I be a part of your, uh, sexual education, I immediately got this mental picture in my head. It was so erotic that I got an erection at a very inappropriate moment and your Mom almost called the whole thing off. She almost kicked me out of the house, for good. Fortunately, she didn't. "Janey, the picture 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 sucking on me until she had the last drop. Then, sliding her breasts 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 jism 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 cum 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 breasts 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 hurt 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 red welt it left crossed the tops of both breasts 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 tits 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 hurt 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 tits 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 hurt 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 hurt 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, sucking 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 Mommy 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 tits 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 swallow 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 cum 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 cum 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 mother and daughter. It had been a taxing night, both physically and mentally. My head still felt as if it was a sheep 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 blonde 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 mother 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 boy last night who thought he had accidentally hurt 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 cum 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 tits in the bathtub afterwards. I think that hurt 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 breasts 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 guys 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 panties 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 Mom 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, red 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 hurt her. "I just wanted to feel just a little bit of what Mom felt. But all it did was hurt." "Are you going to be alright?" She shook her head `yes'. "I think so. Mom 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 girls 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, young lady. If you'll move those fabulous tits 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 hidden 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 blonde 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 blonde 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 daughter 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 mother 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 hurt 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 Mom felt last night. But know that that pain will pass, your body will heal. "What I meant when I said I will not hurt 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 hurt 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 young 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 Mom `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" TV 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 cum 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 cum 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 Mom 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 sucked 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 man 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 cum 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 girl 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 cum 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 girls 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, Mom 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 old 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 hidden 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 girls 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 Mother 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 Mom 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 hurt 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. Mom 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 hole 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 girl 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 hurt you." "The spanking didn't hurt 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 mother 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 daughter 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 Mom 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 daughter 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 young 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 girls learned to dance and whatever else. Bala would also benefit from the relationship, as I was sure my girls 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 tits 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 tits 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 wife of my friend. I didn't know or recognize at that time that women - and men - 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 tits 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 boy 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 hurt 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 hurt 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 hurt 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 cum 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 Mom 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 Mom 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. Old Mrs. Johnson would never be the same after waking up with 25 naked and very obviously horny teenaged boys in her bedroom. Well, she was old to us. 25 is a lot older 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 girls 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 Mom 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 guys such big assholes?" Now, how often do you get `dang it' and `asshole' from your little girl 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 father 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 father 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 father piped up again, "What do you mean `if'? God, look at that girl 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 family 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 guys made me realize she wasn't the fragile little blossom I sometimes let myself believe. I mean, I know girls 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 family outing for us. The other thing that changed was that the boys 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 young guys every chance she got. When the guys 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 Mom 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 girls 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 Mom 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 blonde 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 older female and enjoyed terrorizing her by fondling the younger woman in public. His hands roamed the young girl's body freely and nearly obscenely, causing more than one matronly gasp from the staid bystanders. The mother stood meekly, eyes pleading. Strangely, the daughter 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 man 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 man 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 man 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 red 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 blonde 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 cunt 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 cunt 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 tits 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 tits 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 cunt 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 blowjob 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 Cat 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 Mom 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 father 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 sucking and bobbing. Even though she had been doing this on a daily basis, with her nearly naked and in my bed, this blowjob 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 sucking 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 TV 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 man 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 guys 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 girl 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, hidden 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 videos were neatly labeled and dated. There were several files of photos and videos 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 father 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 mother 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 videos of Sally and the one of Miki, as well as the two thick 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 man 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 video 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 man 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 old 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 old 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 story 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 video 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 camera 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 girl 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 stories 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 girl 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 story 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, mother 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 married 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 young girl 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 mother 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 father 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 young daughter, Nicole had latched onto - her words - the first man 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 old curmudgeon who had gone through several wives already. Nicole rebuffed his advances, but the old 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 old man 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 young girls in his profile. Simone was a mature young 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 young age. Nicole had not known about the continued sexual assaults on her daughter 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 hole when it came to learning. She sucked 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 daughter 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 man 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 man 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 daughter 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 girls 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 dark hair 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 breasts 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 men 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 young 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 young 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 cum 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 girls thought they were alone in the house and were being as noisy and raunchy as they wanted. It was all in fun, just girl 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 mother 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 daughter 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 Mom 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 girl is all grown up. But then I knew that. I had just seen her dance. Someone was going to be a very lucky man 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 Mom 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 camera 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 girl 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 mother lay unconscious in my guestroom, beaten senseless by my lover. The unconscious mother would have to be tended by the daughter 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 Mom 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 Mom 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 mother 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 wife 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, old 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 men 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 urine 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 men 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 horse 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 men had left on the stairway. It fell to the basement floor and broke open. The old newspapers that cluttered the floor caught fire easily. The old 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 stretch 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 man she called Papa. The other man 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 man 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 young 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 man 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 girl 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 hurt 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 mother 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 story 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 boy she really liked, something that made him not like her. It was a lie. She found out. It hurt 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 hurt 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 man 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 man 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 man 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 man in a yellow hat looked at me and made an ugly laugh. I didn't like him. He handed the nice man some money. Suddenly the door I was leaning against was yanked open. A big man 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 man in the yellow hat to use me. "When you found me, they were getting ready to move me to another place. The man said someone had paid cash for me and I was going far away, where no one would find me. They had taken pictures of me first thing before I got too dirty, to show to the buyers. The yellow hat was happy with the price the new people had paid him. He called me `prime.'" She ended her story. Both Mac and I sat there, unmoving, shocked at what we had just heard. "Simone," I asked her, "were there two men or three who took you the first time. When they grabbed you out of the van" "Just two. The man with the yellow hat and the big, dumb one. He made a lot of piss. He grabbed me and leaned on me until I was still after he stuck me with the needle. I remember he carried me to the other car under his arm like a loaf of long French bread, but I couldn't feel anything. Then I don't remember." "There were three men in the cellar. Do you know who the third man might have been?" "When they went away and left me alone, they said they were bringing back someone to take me away. Perhaps that was him." I hoped to God it was, and that he had been acting alone. I just wanted this nightmare to end for Simone. Chapter 37 At that moment the door opened and a distinctive aroma filled the room. The smell, close to a stench, was so intense it made your eyes water the first time you experienced it. I had experienced it many times, and still couldn't quite get used to it. "Hello, Gertie. It's been a while." "Hello, to you too, Mr. Sampson. I see you've been up to your usual stunts. Rescuing fair maidens now, are we?" I was still sitting. I tilted my head back to look up at an enormous block of a woman who was smiling warmly down at me in a motherly fashion. She was as large as her unique perfume was intense. As far as I knew, there was still a sizable reward open in the NIH labs for anyone who could duplicate that odor and make an antidote. God knows why she insisted on bathing in the stuff. She was an intelligent woman, a world-renowned medical researcher. She was published in more than one field, she had a likeable personality. She just smelled. It was rumored that certain airlines had banned her from flying with them. Too many customer complaints. She was accompanied by an officious lab coat. The local hospital administrator, was my bet. He started right in on me. "Yes, Mr. Sampson, I demand to know what is going on in my hospital. Will you please explain to me what you did to this young juvenile and why you were carrying her naked though the streets? What is your relationship to this black fellow, and what were you two planning on doing to her? I have several important questions I would like to have answered, mister. You're going to be in real trouble if I don't get the truth I'm after, and I'm talking criminal charges, here. Your accomplice here has been particularly insistent in trying to leave. Why? I want to know what's going on, and right now!" he ended emphatically. "And you would be...?" "Carl Jones, Assistant Administrator." "Well, Mr. Jones, in the first place, you'd better get a lawyer real quick. I don't take kindly to insinuations, aspersions or allegations, especially the kind you have just made about my friend, this `black fellow,' as you called him, and me. "Now, I'm sure that Dr. Schwartz here will put you into contact with some nice government people who will satisfy your curiosity as to who I am. Of course, that would be after you prove to them that you're capable of handling that information, which could take several years of their asking some very personal questions. In fact, I'm sure those same government people would be happy to bring several of their nice friends along who will have questions of their own for you about your tax records for the last 25 years." I stood up for effect. I don't think the pompous little snot knew how big I was. "Now then, I would suggest you leave before I really get mad." He was actually preparing to spout off again until I mentioned the IRS. Blanching, he left the same pallid color as his lab coat. When the door was shut Gertie said, "Done with your usual light touch, Sampson. Oh, by the way, we don't use the IRS to threaten the populace anymore." I looked at her, an expectant smile on my face. I knew a punch line was coming. "Uh-uh. Now we threaten them with the INS, ATF, or Janet Reno. They go in with machine guns and point them at your children." She said this with such a straight face that, had I not guffawed, Mac would have taken her seriously. Gertie always was the one person who could be relied on to have the latest sick government humor. As with most sick jokes, however, there was entirely too much truth in her statement. "Excuse me, are you really Dr. Gertrude Schwartz of NIH?" asked Simone from the bed. The huge lady turned her considerable attention to the girl in the bed. "Yes, I am, child. Do you know me?" "You wrote a book, `The Dynamics of Hemoglobin Under Physical Stress' published in 1985." "Yes, I did," Gertie said with surprise. "How did you know?" "I read it," she stated simply. Simone could see the disbelief in Gertie's face. I knew if it was Gertie's book, it was undoubtedly a thick and very technical book. Simone continued, "There were only four typographic errors. I thought it was very well written." "Well, thank you, I think. And there were only three in the text!" "You misspelled Claude Coutier's name in the references. That was the fourth one. So you are correct in saying there were only three in the text." "Dr. Coutier is an arrogant sycophant," Gertie muttered. Simone giggled, "He said nearly the same thing about you! Only in French, of course." Gertie sat on the edge of the bed, fully taken with this amazing young girl. "You know Claude?" Simone nodded, "I knew him. We corresponded until he died last year. I had written to him to ask him if he thought your radical theories were correct, as they differed so much from his. He grudgingly admitted to me you were most likely correct. Did you know him, Dr. Schwartz? He would never say why he had such strong feelings about you." I had never seen the big woman this vulnerable. She was as tough as they came, solid and dependable. I had leaned on her for strength more than once after returning from a hard mission. This young girl had her near tears. "Yes, I did know him, long ago at the University. Very well, in fact. He and I were engaged. His mother didn't like me and we, he..." She didn't say what, but it was clear. "Oh, I am so sorry, Dr. Schwartz. I did not mean to bring up sad memories. I know he would have liked it that you did it on purpose, as a joke on his mother. He said many nice things about you in his letters, like he missed talking with you. I can see why he loved you." Gertie sat quietly for a moment, alone with her own thoughts. She wheeled on me suddenly. "I hear one word of this from anyone, mister, and I will draw so much of your blood for lab tests at your next physical you'll blow away in a puff. Understood?" I nodded, suitable threatened. My lips were sealed. For now. With that, Gertie was back to business. "What's his clearance?" she asked me, nodding her head at Mac. I looked at Mac. I shrugged. "I don't know. What do you think, Mac? 410 feet? 415?" He snorted, Gertie just looked puzzled. "Mac is my oldest and closest friend, Gertie. From before my Agency work. He, uh, he is a ball player. Baseball. Gertie, this is Mac Washington, third baseman for the Yankees. Mac, Gertie, my own personal government doctor." They shook hands, then Gertie's eyes widened in sudden recognition. "You! You're THAT Mac! You're the one who showed up out of nowhere and cost me all that money in the Orioles game. Damn! Nobody can move that fast on the bases. You must have stolen four or five bases that game alone!" Mac grinned, taking the praise, tainted as it was, in stride. "Gertie, you continue to amaze me. I didn't know you followed baseball. And betting? Does the Agency know about that?" She glared over at me. "Screw you, Mr. Sampson. It was a $10 bet with the director that went to double or nothing when Mac got walked. He was an unknown who had just been moved up from some hick Triple A club to replace that injured player, what's `is name. Who was I to know he could run like the wind? Besides, $20 won't get you a hot dog and a beer there, so shove it. We went to the game on official business, too. Maybe one of you will tell me, since we're on the subject, why do they call you two `The Twins?' That name kept coming up in some of your old teammates' interviews." She turned to Mac. "It's an honor to meet you in person. Excuse me for not recognizing you, Mr. Washington. I didn't recognize you without your tight pants..." For the second time she stopped short, not finishing what she was saying. It was a most unusual occurrence. As much as she blushed when she realized what she had just admitted, that she had only looked at his butt during the game, Mac and I were still trying to recover from her sudden unexpected question about our nickname. The reason for the name was rather personal, and, thank goodness, our teammates, though truthful about the name, had had the loyalty to conveniently forget the reason for it. I gave her the standard bullshit answer we told anyone who asked. "Well, it started out in high school. He would get a hit, I would get a hit. I would pitch a no-hitter, then he would. What ever happened, happened to both of us. Ergo, `The Twins!'" Gertie looked at me carefully. She knew me too well. My answer had been too pat, too prepared. "Is that your final answer?" I nodded. "Bullshit." I shrugged. Take it or leave it. Shaking her head in resignation, she finally got on with why she had come in to the room in the first place. "Well, first the good news. You, Mr. Sampson, are as healthy as a horse. As usual. Even that little scratch on your arm should heal nicely. That is due in large part to me, as you well know." With that prognosis she dismissed me from her realm of concern. I was uneasy to get off so lightly with her. She looked over at Simone for a moment. "More good news is that the girl did not catch anything particularly nasty from her ordeal. I did have to use some, er, new things for a few of the bugs she had in her system. You will have sign some, um, release papers for her before I can let you leave." Something told me we were very lucky to have this good doctor on our side. I knew more than a little bit about her `new things,' as she called them, having been the recipient of a few of them before. It was in large part the reason for her continued interest in the state of my health. Or that I had any health at all for her to be concerned about. More than once I had heard the term `the guinea pig' used when someone asked for my medical chart, especially after she had patched me up after a mission. I had a feeling the same label now applied to Simone. Knowing Gertie, well, I trusted her to use her best medical judgement, which, come to think of it, was about the best in the world. She hesitated for a moment, thinking and phrasing as I had seen her do before when she was really serious. When she spoke, she spoke directly to Simone, as if Mac and I weren't there, "Young lady, I do not know who you are or where you come from or why you are not more affected than you are by what you have been through. From the state in which you arrived, and the company you arrived with, I have a very good idea of exactly what you have gone through this past couple of days. I saw the pictures they took of you when you came in, I have read the physical exam notes from the emergency room doctors and I have seen the lab tests. I have also seen the results from the samples I sent to my lab. I know many things." Gertie seemed overcome with emotion, all choked up. She pointed over at me. I thought I was a goner. "I know this man. I know he did not do this to you. If anything, he is probably responsible for saving you from the people who were doing it to you." Simone nodded her head in agreement. Gertie had her rapt attention. Mine, too. "I cannot imagine what would make one human being treat another in the manner these people treated you. I cannot fathom what would make a grown man think he could treat a beautiful young woman in the manner these men treated you. Not even among the most uncivilized of peoples does this behavior exist. Only rarely does it occur in the animal kingdom. I am beyond myself with outrage. I ask you, give me one name, just one, of one of the men who did this, and I will make him suffer for what he did to you. He will beg me to let him die. I swear to you, I will do it." Simone shook her head. She didn't know their names. Gertie misunderstood her, but, knowing me, guessed correctly what had happened. "You can't. They're dead, aren't they?" Not waiting for an answer, she turned on me again. "Judge, jury and executioner?" she accused bitterly. I shook my head softly and held up my injured arm. "One Uzi and two knives. Self-defense." She snorted. "With your special training, that was hardly fair odds..." My alarmed look stopped her before she breached any more major government secrets. I pointed to Mac, who was staring wide-eyed at her careless slip that I had had special training. I had never even hinted to him what I had done after I left Triple A ball other than I was working for the State Department. He thought I worked at the embassies or something. I never really said. Gertie, who had been nearly beside herself with rage at the brutality of what Simone had been through, forced herself to calm down. When she was back in control, she turned back to the girl. "Simone, dear, I was prepared for you to be traumatized and emotionally battered from your ordeal. I was looking for you to be withdrawn and sullen, bitter and hateful. A normal person would feel that way. I was expecting to have to recommend years of psychiatric help and counseling for you. "But what do I find? A caring, sensitive, intelligent, composed young woman. You reached out and touched my heart with a fond memory. You had the sensitivity to understand the love that old bastard and I had for each other, two misshapen human beings that no one else could love. You are truly an extraordinary woman. "I would be pleased if you would keep in contact with me. I would love to get to know you better as a person, to watch you grow, to help you be even more than you are now, if even in some small way. It would be a privilege. Besides, latent repercussions of these events may crop up later on. Rather than have to re- educate someone new, I would be pleased to keep in touch with you." I nearly fell out of my chair. This was the woman who had practically single-handedly re-invented the rehabilitation program for traumatized agents. There were today several active agents who, prior to her program, would have had to be, well, put down, myself among them. We could be a lethal bunch when we got out of control. For her to offer to look after Simone after the trauma she had been through was more than I could have hoped for. It also indicated something of the intensity of the trauma Simone had been through. Simone's experience was, in many ways, the same type of torture and degradation experienced by captured agents. Simone's apologies earlier of her inability to resist because of the cold and hunger had reminded me of similar apologies I had made myself. We all had a breaking point. When we reached it, we all felt it was due to our weakness, a failure on our part. Gertie was right. Simone needed more than my help for this. I lost my head. I stood up and hugged Gertie, I was so overcome with emotion. She tolerated it briefly, then set me back down rather forcibly in the chair. "Don't go soft on me now, Mr. Sampson. She's going to need your help, too. I assume, somehow, you're in some manner responsible for her? God help her." I almost wished I were back in the agency. Almost. I had so many things I could hold over her head from just this afternoon, I could have owned her departmental budget. Her former lover, betting with the director, watching Mac's ass, her careless slip about my training, oh, so many things. I could have had any assignment I wanted. But, then, that was the trouble. I didn't want any assignments, anymore. "Yes, she is the daughter of my, uh, fianc‚e." I saw Simone watching me to see how I would portray my relationship with her mother. I thought I should reassure her of the permanence of her situation with me. I forgot about Mac. "What!" Mac burst out. "Did you and Sally break up? Holy Shit! CeCe's going to have a cow!" "No, Mac. We didn't break up. Sally and I are still going to get married. Too," I added weakly. My position of superiority with Gertie had just been eroded to nothing. I could see from her incredulous expression that she was eating this up and just waiting to hear my explanation. From her prior experience with me, she knew to expect a doozy. "But, but, that's illegal," blustered Mac. "Multiple partner marriages are an accepted practice in 37 different cultures," piped up Simone from her pillow. She was on my side, at least. She wanted to get her mom married off and safe. I wanted to change the subject. "And just how many of those 37 cultures are in the US of A, Miss Smarty-pants," howled Gertie, now shaking with laughter. She was really enjoying this. Turning to me, she said, "Which wife will you be bringing with you to the festivities in Washington the week after next?" I looked at her blankly. "Oh, right! You haven't heard, yet. The President thought it would be nice to have a quiet bash or two - complete with photo ops, mind you! - for all the hidden soldiers that keep this country safe for democracy. To protect the actives, the agency PR guys are pulling in every coherent inactive agent they can find, and you, Mr. Sampson, are at the top of their list. A very short list, too. Since the festivities will be at the same time as your next scheduled physical..." I groaned at the thought of another 4-day stint as a rat in her laboratory. "...I have already taken the liberty of RSVPing for you and the Mrs. Maybe I should specify a table for three...?" She was really enjoying herself. If laughter was the best medicine, Gertie Schwartz, MD, was a very healthy woman at the moment. Simone, however, remained fixed on the problem that had been staring me in the face ever since I realize what it was Sally was really asking me to do with her and Nicole. What she said next was like a thunderbolt, a revelation. The answer was so simple, it just might work. "But, it's only illegal if they file the papers with the courts, isn't it. I mean, they could still pretend or something, couldn't they?" I don't know about the others, but I just sat and stared at Simone, my angel. All I could think of was that quote `And a child shall lead them...' Chapter 38 Simone and I were kept for observation for 4 more days. Gertie visited everyday. Shit, she did more than visit. She spent more than 6 hours a day with us, talking with Simone mostly. With her workload at the NIH, I realized how important this was to her, that Simone be OK. I left them to their talks. I used the time to sleep, as I was awake at night, still on alert. I think Gertie knew that. I didn't look, but I knew there was an inconspicuous guard watching our door 24 hours a day. I spent the nights by Simone's bed. We would talk until she fell asleep. She would insist on holding my finger as we talked. She quietly admitted it helped her dreams. Other than that she didn't like me, or any male, to touch her much. She liked me to talk while she slept, too. I remembered what I had done for Janey, so I did the same for her. I didn't have that much history with her to relive, so I told her things I remembered from my own youth. I told her all about Mac, and how the first time we met, we had defended each other back to back in a playground fistfight. The rich kid and the ruffian. We had been inseparable from then on. Our parents and teachers never understood. I told her about growing up poor, then suddenly stupendously rich. I told her about my father and mother, how the sudden riches had torn them apart and how I missed them. I told her about Marion, my sister. How proud I was of her being a judge. I told her things I had forgotten and things I tried to forget, but couldn't. I told her what I could about my time in the Agency, and why I couldn't work for them anymore. I talked until I would drift off. Then we would dream together. Each night the dream would be the same as before. The beach. The sandcastles. Each night I would show Simone a different set of faces in my collection. Some, like Gertie and Mac, she liked and she would try to touch them with her fingers. Pieces of the sand from them would cling to her delicate fingers and she would scurry back to her own castle and brush the tiny shiny grains into her own mixture of faces. I would watch her as she would sit and watch the grains fit together. Her radiant smile was all the reward I need for sharing those memories. Some of the faces in my castle frightened her and she would protectively move her own sandcastle a little farther away from mine again, leaving that part of the wall open and unprotected from any errant wave. I would leave the gap open for her and gently show how all the faces in the sand were mixed. The good with the bad. I showed her that the bad would fade away, while the good would continue to shine. I showed her, too, how the bad sometimes made the whole castle stronger. Not all the time, but sometimes. I showed her the remains of my father's castle, down the beach a ways. It was almost gone, as he hadn't been there to tend it for a long time. The only faces left in the ruins were Thorny's, his partner, Marion's and mine. Everyone else had faded away or forgotten him. We found her Papa's sandcastle and carried it closer to where ours stood. Simone seemed to like knowing his sand was close by. She visited his crumbling castle often. Once I watched her try to fix a breached wall in his castle. Every time she dumped a bucket of sand on the wall, it would disappear. I didn't know how she would react to that, but slowly she came to terms with the futility of it. Only the living could build sandcastles. She didn't try to fix it again, but focused on building her own. From that time on, each morning when we woke, I would sense she had moved her sandcastle a little closer to mine. I would grin over at her as she opened her eyes. Neither one of us understood what it was we were experiencing, but we accepted it. I knew it would be a huge step for her to commit to another relationship and that it would take a long time before she was ready to do it. That was fine with me. I would be there when she was ready. Mac came everyday, too. He had been `released' as soon as Gertie had cleared him. He visited the children's ward on each visit, too. I'm not sure who liked it more, Mac or the children. When he visited with us, he spent most of his time tripping over his tongue trying to talk with Simone. She continued to fluster him and took great delight in her ability to keep him floundering. He brought her little gifts, trinkets and flowers that she accepted as if he was presenting her with the crown jewels. I could tell he was having trouble justifying his feelings about Simone on several levels, not the least of which being her young age, and kept trying to draw me into a conversation about Sally and Nicole. I ignored his unsubtle attempts, and left him to work it out by himself. I slept when he was there, sounder than when Gertie was there. I felt safer with my friend. Mac had retrieved my car while we were recovering in the hospital. I drove home after they released us. I was a little nervous about our homecoming. I was going to insist on carrying Simone through the door, but she kissed me shyly on the cheek. "I am not the invalid, Lawrence." Flabbergasted, I let her walk. The house was quiet when we entered. Janey had heard us drive in and was preparing the bed for Simone. Another bed was the last thing Simone wanted to see. The two teens saw each other and ran into each other's arms. There was more said in the fierceness of that hug and in the mingling of their mutual tears than could ever have been said with mere words. I think, at that moment, they started thinking of each other as family, as sisters. I had not told Janey what Simone had been through. She just knew it had been terrible. Simone did not apologize to Janey for being jealous. She wasn't anymore. It was too expensive an emotion to own. She couldn't afford it. I stood and looked at the pair. Simone was taller than Janey, but not as tall as Nicole. Her coloring was deceptive. It was dark like her mom's, I guess. I would have to say it was best described as having a porcelain quality, like fine china. I knew she was a lot tougher than she seemed, but the fragile quality came through in every fine feature, every gracious movement. She made you want to wrap her up in your arms and protect her. A china doll. A very feminine china doll. They broke their hug. Janey looked up at her and grinned, "Nice hair. You meet a lawnmower salesman?" Simone looked stunned for a moment, then proudly poofed her hair, like a Parisian model. "You like?" she asked seriously. "He has a nice truck, he'll come to the house. I can get you a quick appointment. I think he said his name was `Roto-Rooter.' Very exclusive. 24- hour service, too!" It was Janey's turn to be silenced. Simone had never bested her before, but it was fun to watch. Her squeal of delight at having found a sparring partner ended in another hug, this one of excitement. After the extended greetings were over, I took the two girls into the living room. I noticed the door to the Free Room was closed. I had not told Simone what had happened to her mom, but she knew most of it. She had felt it through her newly discovered link. I asked Janey to tell us what had happened while we were gone. "Well, Nicole was sleeping when you left, so I went down to check on Mom. I could, like, tell she was OK, but I wanted to see for myself. I told her Nicole was resting quietly. I also told her she was to stay down in the basement under restraint until you got back with Simone. Or came home alone." She looked up at me. "I hope that was OK to tell her that. I don't think she knew Simone had run away." I nodded. "Well, I wasn't sure. She got really scared, not for herself, but for Simone. She started to cry, really cry. I made sure she wouldn't choke or anything, and I left. I couldn't take it. I don't know how long she cried, but I felt her sorrow. I still do. "A couple hours after you left, Bala showed up. You called them?" Again I nodded. "Yeah, well, she ended up being a great help. But right at the first I wasn't sure. Ten minutes after she got here, I sensed a change in Mom, like a panic or something. I raced downstairs and found Bala standing behind her with a whip. She hadn't hit her yet, but she was teasing her. "I'm sorry if I didn't do the right thing, Dad, but I let Bala have it. I told her this wasn't the time or the place for teasing. I told her she could stay if she wanted to help, but it would be on my terms. You had left me in charge. Otherwise, she could get her little butt back to Amud." Janey grinned at that recollection. "She looked at me funny for a minute, then she got that neat twinkle in her eye. You know the one? Then she hugged me and apologized." She looked up at us. "I wouldn't have made it through without her help, Dad. Anyway, I spent most of my time with Nicole. When she woke up, I tried to talk to her, but she was really far away. I got scared and started to call the doctor. Bala came in and looked at her. She got in bed with her, naked, and lay down with her, front to back, like you and Mom like to do. Bala just held her, singing to her, holding her like a baby. "I watched them. Nicole settled down and seemed to like the touch of Bala. When Nicole went back to sleep, Bala had me take off my clothes and change places with her, so that I was in the bed with Nicole. She went off to fix us a meal. One of us was always with Nicole, holding her. "Eventually she started crying. I got scared again, but Bala was really happy about that. She said that now that she was feeling again, she would be OK. Even if she were feeling a lot of sadness, it would pass. It was the blankness that never went away that was dangerous. Some women never come back to the living, she said. "About then Mac called. He was so worried about you, but he said you were in the hospital now and would be OK. Scared the shit out of me - oops, sorry Dad - but he reassured me you were OK. I had to ask him if you had found Simone. He didn't know your name, but when he described you, I knew it was you. He didn't do justice to your haircut, Simmie!" Simone, who had just acquired a nickname, snuggled her head into Janey's shoulder. Her tears had been silently falling as Janey told of her mother's recovery. "She wants to see you, Simmie. That's the only thing she has said to either of us. She just asked if Simone had returned, and to please send her in immediately." She looked back up at me. "I didn't tell her, Dad, I swear. Bala swore to me she didn't, either. She just knew Simone had run away. "She's asleep right now, or I would have sent you right in. You could go in and sit with her until she wakes up if you want." Simone nodded and went to the door of the Free Room. She hesitated outside the door. "Janey?" "Yeah?" "Thank you." "Any time." Chapter 39 When Simone was gone, Janey came over and sat on my lap, curled up in a ball and wept. All the fear, all the terror, all the unknown came rushing out. Things were OK, now. Simone was back safe. She could let go. I let her cry. In between her tears, she told me that she had remembered what I had done for her when she had been hiding from reality. How I had sat by her bed and talked to her. So she did that with Nicole. She told about Steven's attack on her. What she had felt like. How she had wanted to die. She told her of Sally's bet with me, the whole thing. How I had agreed, reluctantly, to help her adjust sexually. That that was why we were so open in the house, why Janey could tease me like she did. I let her cry herself out. We were both lying there when we felt the reunion between Nicole and Simone. I felt almost guilty eavesdropping on their emotions like that. I asked Janey if she ever got used to it. I think she felt as guilty as I did. It was a rather touching reunion. Nicole and Simone came out of the Free Room together. In European fashion, they were holding hands. They came over to where Janey and I were sitting. Nicole was naked, as she had been with Sally as her mistress. That would have to change. I whispered for Janey to go get her one of Sally's slave outfits. Janey jumped up and came back with it in a flash. I had Janey help Nicole put it on. It didn't fit quite the same as it did on Sally, but it did wonders for her ego. She knelt down at my feet and grabbed on to my ankles. I felt her tears washing over them. I looked up at Simone to see what she was thinking. I wasn't prepared for the beaming smile she gave me. Whatever I had done seemed to have been a step in the right direction. I had been dreading going down to get Sally. When Nicole seemed to be less weepy, I told her to get up and follow me. I told the girls to have Bala call Amud and to help her pack. I knew he didn't like to be away from her any longer than necessary. I knew he didn't like her in the house with me when he wasn't here, too. It's not that he didn't trust us both. He just didn't trust us both together. I didn't blame him. Bala was beginning to grow on me. I had been sensing Sally since I got home. I had shot her a message to prepare herself when I had arrived. I had sensed a quiet resolution and peace from her in return. I wasn't sure I liked that serenity in her and, frankly, it scared the shit out of me. I made my way to the dungeon, sending her reassurances the entire way. All I got back was that damned calm message that she was at peace with herself. Nicole followed me into the dungeon. She gasped as she saw Sally. Her face was drawn, haggard, as if she had not slept in the week we were gone. It was entirely possible that she had refused herself that luxury. In preparing for us, she had fouled herself. There was a trail of urine beginning at her knees that was slowly heading for the floor drain. Streaks of brown on her thighs indicated the path of her feces. The stench was just beginning to reach eye-watering intensity. Her eyes clouded with tears for another reason as she saw Nicole wearing one of her slave costumes. I felt the fear in her heart. I did nothing to still it. "Master? Has she been here the entire time?" "Yes." "Mon Dieu!" The whip Sally had used to beat Nicole was still on the floor where it had fallen that night. It had been within her view the entire time as she knelt in the stocks. I went over and picked it up. I handed it to Nicole. "Get it out of your system." She looked at the whip as if it was of alien origin. She looked up at me confused. "Master? I do not understand." I pointed at Sally. "She hurt you, beat you badly. Now it is your turn." Sally, already pale, whitened completely at that statement. That was not what she thought I had meant when I told her to prepare herself. She braced herself when Nicole went up to her holding the whip in both hands like a club. I was prepared to intervene if necessary as she raised it high over her head. The whip crashed down, but I didn't move. The force of the blow broke the shaft of the weapon, knocking it out of her hands and across the room. Nicole walked over to it, bent down and picked up the now ruined whip. She handed it to me. "It is out of my system. May I help her clean up now, Master?" I looked at her and smiled in gratitude. She had made the first important unilateral step of forgiveness in the process of reconciliation between the two women and made it in such a way that ensured a healing. She had broken the whip over the post behind Sally. I was looking forward to getting to know this exotic looking woman better. "Come into the Free Room when you are both ready." As I was leaving, I heard the two women crying and sobbing, asking each other's forgiveness. They had both been wrong, they had both been hurt. It had been my all my fault. We all knew that, too. They made me wait. Amud came and gathered Bala. Janey and I expressed our thanks to him for letting her come. He sincerely wished me peace in my house. Bala, surprising both of us, requested Janey to come visit her. She had been impressed with her taking charge, how she had handled herself. There was much she could teach her, she said, if I would allow it. She didn't ask Amud's permission before speaking up, and I saw him roll his eyes in exasperation. He did give me a quick nod of assent before I agreed, however, grinning as he did. As much as he protested, I think he enjoyed his wife's unpredictable nature more and more. It was exciting, anyway. I agreed that Janey would go over in a few days and stay for an extended visit. When Sally and Nicole did come into the Free Room, I saw immediately what had taken so much time. Sally had whipped up a slave outfit for Nicole, one that fit her like a glove and showed off her charms in a most appealing and inviting way. I'm not sure who was more pleased with my stares at Nicole, she or Sally. I kept checking my sense for any jealousy from Sally, but there simply wasn't any. So I kept staring. Eventually at both of them. Sally, giggling, finally broke the lustful interlude, "Did you want to see us, Master, or just see us?" She giggled at her own joke. It was good to hear her laugh, but there were serious matters to discuss. I grinned at her, and held out my arms to her. She collapsed against me, dissolving in the sobs of the deep sorrow that was still just below the surface. I held her to me, consoling her. Nicole stood watching our embrace. She was not embarrassed at this intimacy nor did she turn away. It was simply not her turn. She would wait. Setting Sally down in one of the comfortable chairs around the table in the room, I held another chair out for Nicole. I took another chair facing the two. Briefly, before I started, I checked with my senses on the two teenagers. Both were intense sources of curiosity, standing just outside the door. I gave them a good-natured growl over our link, thought of a picture of a grizzly bear, which I knew Janey would hate, and sent them to clean their room. We heard mock screams of terror as they fled the vicinity. Nicole looked puzzled at what had just happened. She had not experienced the link, perhaps never would. Sally looked stunned. I had just sent a message with such apparent ease over my link where a week before I couldn't hardly come to grips with having the ability at all. I didn't try to explain it to her, but she was clearly impressed with my grasp of it. "This is the Free Room. Free Room rules apply. Is that clear?" I asked them. Both nodded. "I made an error in judgement giving Sally authority over you, Nicole. I apologize." I turned to Sally. "I made an error of pride in not listening to you, Sally. Please forgive me." I waited. Nicole spoke first, after first glancing at Sally, who nodded. "Lawrence, what works with some will not work with all. You need to see Sally and me as different. You need to see us for who and what we are. For myself, I do not wish to be a mistress and have authority over someone." "I find that hard to believe, Nicole. You were the CEO of a successful company. You made decisions and controlled people's lives every day." "I was terrified every minute of the day, every day of the week. It is not that I cannot make decisions, or think, or act on my own. I just do not wish to have responsibility for others. It terrifies me. Can you do that, Lawrence?" "You are asking me to treat you differently. I can do that. Will you also accept that many times, most of the time, in fact, I may need to treat you in the same manner? That there may not be much difference?" She grinned, nodding. "Apology accepted, Lawrence." Sally was quiet for a minute. "You hurt me, by not listening to me." I nodded. This was not going to go well, I could tell. "I forgive you." It couldn't be that simple. It wasn't. I suddenly felt an awful pressure on my balls. I looked at Sally. Both her hands were on the table, as were Nicole's. Both sat too far away to reach me with their feet. Still the pressure increased. Sweat broke out on my forehead. I groaned in pain. I saw spots. More than anything I wanted to reach down and break the grip of whatever it was that was slowly grinding my gonads. But I knew there was nothing there. I groaned again, fast losing consciousness. Opening my senses, I saw two dainty hands holding an oversized garlic press to my nuts. I recognized those hands. I had just seen them. They were resting on the table across from me. I looked up in terror at Sally. "Don't you ever ignore me like that again, buster," came her sweet voice lilting across the link. "That hurt me, that you, you, you toyed with me. Oh. By the way, you aren't the only one who has been practicing. I've had a lot of time on my hands lately..." I gasped as the pressure suddenly disappeared. "One more thing. I love you, Master," she ended. I didn't know you could giggle across the link. I had to wait to stop shaking before I continued. I would never be safe in this house again. With my voice still shaky, I asked, "Are you done?" "Lawrence, is something the matter. You don't look well. You are flushed." "He's OK, Nikki." Nicole, too, had apparently acquired a nickname. Sally was looking at me, talking to me through her explanation to Nicole. "Its just something that happens to a man when he realizes how stupid he's been. This time the pain passed quickly, but the reason for it will be remembered for a long time. That about right, Larry?" Nicole looked puzzled, but didn't press it. I nodded in full agreement, then got on with the meeting. "There are going be some changes. First, Sally, I want you to take Nicole down and set up hers and Simone's accounts like yours and Janey's. Nicole, the way the money is handled around here is like this: I don't touch your money. Any interest, wages or other income is yours. It goes into the accounts that Sally will help you set up. You are free to spend or invest your money however you want. Until Simone is of legal age, you will have signatory authority on her account. I will be paying for all living expenses for my household out of my own funds. Anything having to do with the functioning of the household, I will pay for. Is that clear?" Sally and Nicole both nodded in agreement. It had been bothering Nicole that this issue had not been addressed. "Second, we are moving." That got a bigger reaction from them. Nicole relaxed a bit more. It was another area of concern for her. Sally looked surprised, and a little distressed. Before she could protest, I explained my reasons, "Sally, this is your home. Nicole is uncomfortable." I waited to see if she would accept that. Sally looked over at Nicole, pleading in her eyes. "Don't hold this against Nicole. It's my decision." "Where will we move, Master?" "To my family home. You just stayed there with Marion." "But Janey..." she started to protest. I cut her off. I had thought this out. It was decided. "...will commute to her high school here for her senior year. She has her license and I will get her a dependable car. Simone will be seeing a kind of counselor in Washington on a weekly basis, and the new house is closer for her commute. It is also closer to the symphony, Mac and CeCe, and Amud and Bala. It is also closer to the Guild, which is important for a reason I will explain later" Sally sighed in resignation. That attitude wasn't what I wanted to see in her. She had to not only accept this but embrace it enthusiastically. "Sally, this is not a punishment or a reflection on you in any way. You will still keep this house. You can use it as an escape, a haven for yourself. I'm sure Nicole will use her own home for the same thing, from time to time. What you two are asking me to do means we're going to have to turn all of our concepts of marriage and the traditional gender roles of who does what upside down. It could get intense during the adjustment period and for a long time afterwards. New things may come up and disturb the environment from time to time, too. You may need to regroup, readjust to the new situation. You may need to leave for a while. You can't do that now." "I would never leave you, Larry!" "Never is a very strong word, Sally." "I..." She stopped, suddenly realizing the enormity of the implications of what she had started by bringing in Nicole. It had felt right to her, she knew it could work. She just hadn't bothered to work out the details. Putting it into practice needed planning, not feelings. I knew her a little better now, I knew this was how she functioned. She went on feeling, I went on fact. "You are right, Master. I hadn't thought about that. I'm sorry I doubted you." "It's still going to be tough. I haven't worked out everything, you know. You two will have to do some thinking, too...." I grinned at them both. "Sally, since you are in charge of the household - yes, that will continue to be your chief function - you will be in charge of the remodeling and the move. I want to be moved by the start of school, so you're going to have your work cut out for you. Work out with Marion which rooms she needs, which ones we can have. There should be more than enough room for all of us in one wing. She can have the other. Work with her. Whatever you decide is OK. Clear?" She nodded, her mind already working. Give a woman a reason to spend a lot of money, and you could generally count on a few peaceful days. It was going to take more than a few days to remodel the monstrosity of a house my father had built. He had been a struggling family lawyer, barely making enough to feed his family and keep us out of the slums. As it was, we were right next door to them. It was a hard time for us - even I remember that - but we were happy. I remember the laughter, the stories around the table, the love. Something happened to change him. He never said what it was, exactly, but I suspect that he finally realized the futility of trying to change human nature. The people he represented were no more interested in truth or justice than was the legal system. They just wanted a ticket to easy street. He fought against the trend towards frivolous lawsuits for years and refused to file them, mostly as a matter of honor. He tried to work out equitable settlements between the parties when there was a real injury or loss. He was a highly respected man, but you can't eat respect. It nearly broke his practice when the courts started making punitive damage awards on the basis of pain and suffering or mental anguish. I can remember one winter we had almost no food and less heat. Momma got sick and any money we had went for medicine. We all chipped in and helped, and she got better, but she wasn't ever the same. Whatever happened, he did a complete about face. Fuck the system, seemed to be his new motto. He was going for the bucks. As he did with everything, as he had taught me to do, he went after it with all that he had. He was good, too, but it ate him up inside. Within a year, he had nailed several large contingency cases with exorbitant damage claims. His contingency fee was 50% for an out of court settlement, and the usual 30% for a court settlement. He couldn't seem to lose a case, even with the most ridiculous positions. He took particular relish in quoting the liberal court's rulings and turning them against the particular perversion of justice that had instigated the ruling. Most people remember the Bakke reverse discrimination case, where a white male sued a medical school because minority students, who were less qualified than he, were accepted while he was not. My Dad was the architect of that strategy, although he didn't represent Mr. Bakke. He took particular delight in setting the liberal court on its ear. I think he was hoping the system would come to its senses. When the dollar amounts of the court settlements he was winning started reaching the stratosphere and going even higher on the appeals, opposing counsels quickly began offering out of court settlements to avoid having to pay those judgements. It made no difference to Dad. With more money than he could spend in ten lifetimes, Dad decided to build a house. Not just a house, though. He wanted it to be a fitting monument to the ludicrous manner in which it had been earned. Against all advice of the city planners, real estate agents and pretty near everybody who knew about it, he bought a huge parcel of land about 10 minutes from his office, surrounded by low and very low income housing. An imposingly high and very solid brick wall also surrounded it. The property, about four city blocks square, or 16 square blocks, had belonged to a cloister that had consolidated with another order. Its close location to Mac's house was the reason I went to the same high school as Mac. As a white boy and girl, Marion and I were in the minority in that school. Whether he was a savvy investor or just plain lucky, he bought the place, probably to spite the experts. Knowing my Dad, though, it was more likely because he hated a long commute to work. The reconstruction project was initially called "Sampson's Folly", not very original, but just try to buy that house today. The last offer we had was approaching one billion. Some country wanted it for an embassy or something. Originally there was a monstrosity of a building on a hill in the center of the estate. Veritable park-like thickly wooded pastures surrounded it on all four sides. A long sweeping drive led from the gatehouse up to the house that I humbly called `home' during my formative teen years. I still remember the first time I saw it. I thought it was a hospital, it was so big and had so many rooms with beds in them. Dad gutted the place, starting on one wing. We lived out of boxes in the other during the reconstruction. The building was basically `U' shaped, about 3 stories above ground, and at least 2 below. I say at least, because it was rumored by the construction crews that the floor at the lowest level didn't sound right. It wasn't solid enough, as there were hollow sounds and echoes that seemed to come up from below. Dad figured that's where the nun's had buried their dead, as there weren't any other burial grounds on the property. We never found any way that led deeper, and the place had really been torn apart during the remodel. That make-over had been in the late 1960's. The task I was giving Sally was to upgrade the place. Cable, telephone and Internet access to the living and working areas, modern fixtures in the bathrooms. In particular, to revitalize the industrial sized kitchen. That room was such a key area in our family life, and I expected that to continue. She was going to have her work cut out for her to add any functionality to that monstrosity of a kitchen. From the twinkle in her eyes, I could see she had already accepted the challenge. I wanted to add a small twist. There was one room I had in mind for a particular use. It had been my favorite room growing up. The main entrance to the house was at the base of the `U'. A huge double door opened onto an expanse of marble flooring that seemed to stretch forever. Twin staircases wound down from a salon on the second floor. A mammoth chandelier hung from the ceiling, three stories above the floor. Glass French doors along the far wall separated the huge entry from the main ballroom. These doors could be opened to nearly double the floor space for a cotillion. It was the salon on the second floor that was my favorite room. The room above it, on the third floor had been gutted and the floor removed. From the peak of the roof and extending down the entire expanse of wall to the floor of the salon had been glassed in as a kind of solarium. When I had to think, I would go in there, lie on the floor and stare at the stars high above. It was like you were outside, they were so clear. I wanted that room to be the center point for our new relationship. I told Sally to take the ideas from the Arabian room we had here at her house and apply them there. She looked puzzled, but on that point I was insistent. There were to be pillows, thick carpeting, a few plants, but no telephones, TVs or large furnishings. I also wanted two distinct areas, a Women's area and a Men's area. Having said that and given Sally her tasks, I turned to Nicole. "You will go to work. I've contacted some people I know who could use a good neurochemist. You will have the opportunity to meet them first and test some of their devices before you decide to work for them." I thought Sally was going to explode with laughter when she figured out what kind of `testing' Nicole would be doing with the Rosen's devices. A sharp look from me barely contained her gaiety. "If that place doesn't work out, we will find something else, perhaps teaching. But you will work in your field. Agreed?" Nicole's face was streaked with happy tear-tracks. She nodded her agreement happily. If she thought she had been getting the best end of the deal so far, she hadn't heard anything yet. "Sally, I need you to know that my next decision was very tough for me to make. I made the decision I did for one basic reason, all other things being equal. I know you have asked me to treat you differently, and I will. I will also attempt to do so without showing either of you a preference. With our history, Sally, that will be hard. I know you, I'm comfortable with you. Our feelings for each other have been tested and found to be strong. "That's the reason I have decided to take Nicole to Washington with me. The President has decided to throw a party, balls and fancy dinners and stuff. I have to go. I need to spend time alone with Nicole to get to know her. So, if Nicole will consent to going off for a long weekend with me on our first date, she will accompany me." Sally took it hard. If she had one vice, if was for fancy dress parties. She didn't like to throw them so much as she loved to dress up and go watch the people interact. She said it was like nothing else she had ever seen. People who would stab each other in the back if they met on the street would smile and talk like old friends at a ball or cocktail party. It was where she and I had met the first time. Trooper that she was, she nodded. She understood, and would try hard not to let it get to her. Besides, with the deadline I had given her on the remodel, she was going to be a busy lady. I knew she was going to make me pay for it later. We called the two teens in and broke the news to them. Janey wasn't too thrilled about moving until she heard she was going to get a car out of it. She was talking Beemer or Porsche, she was getting a Nissan or Toyota. Simone's eyes glistened when she heard she would be seeing Gertie regularly and would be close enough to her Agency office at the new house to see her whenever she could. The only fly in the ointment came when I told her she was going to have her own room. I could see that disturbed her. I asked why. She asked, looking shyly at Janey for confirmation, if they couldn't just have a larger room and call it their room, rather than one for her and one for Janey. Janey nodded her agreement quickly and I looked at Sally and then Nicole. They both agreed, a secret smile shared between them. Already I didn't like the way this was going. Four against one was just about fair odds when I was in a combat situation against men. I didn't stand a chance in this circumstance with one woman, much less four! It was going to be a Hell of an adventure, though. Chapter 40 The next week was a flurry of activity. Nicole and Simone spent most of their days at their old house packing their things. Some things they moved in now, some things were staying there and some would move to the new house. Nicole had taken Sally over to her house and asked her what would be OK to take where. As far as I could tell the new relationship was working out. I kept everything crossed that I could cross in the faint hope that it would continue and thrive. Sally met with Marion and got carte blanche to do whatever she wanted to the family house. I had this nagging feeling once again that I should be worried about the apparent nonchalance with which my normally stuffy sister was treating this unusual family structure I was building. More than that, I was going to be moving it into the same house she was living in. I asked Sally what she had told Marion about us and our living arrangements, and Sally said `pretty much everything.' Including Nicole and Simone living there, too. I checked. Sally had already called in contractors and actually had work being done by the end of the week. Marion invited her to come down and stay with her while I was gone so she could be close to the action and they could talk. Again, that nagging feeling that I should be worried something. Later that week I managed to slip out for one of the lunches Mac and I liked to grab whenever we could. These lunches, which used to be weekly occurrences, had now gone to catch as catch can because of his game and travel schedule during the baseball season. He was getting ready to go south for Spring Training soon, so we would meet whenever we could. We had a good lunch. I could tell he was dying to ask about everything that was going on, but I held him off. I explained I would tell him everything I could later, but that he would have to be patient. There were some things I needed to work out, and so on. I did give him a little gift from Simone, kind of a `Thank You' from her for all the time he has spent with her at the hospital. It was a gold chain necklace. It was funny to watch his reactions to the gift. It was obvious he dearly loved the chain. Not only was it a gift from Simone, it was tasteful and of high quality. Mac, however, had this aversion to what he referred to as the `Mr. T' syndrome. He didn't wear jewelry, other than our championship ring and, now, his wedding band. He looked up at me. "How do I explain this to CeCe?" I don't think he knew he'd already decided to wear it. I just sat there, shaking from laughter. I couldn't answer him. I almost wished we'd gone to a bar for lunch instead of the trendy restaurant we were in. That way I could have let it out. As it was, I nearly hurt myself keeping relatively quiet so the management would let us back in next time we wanted to eat there. I did get several glares from the head waiter and one offer for the Heimlich Maneuver from a neighboring patron. As we were leaving, Mac pulled a briefcase from the trunk of his car and handed it to me. "Here," he said. "Why, thanks, Mac. You didn't have to get me a gift," I half joked. "I didn't," he said puzzled. "I think you left this in my entryway that night you brought Simone. CeCe tripped over it when she came back from her trip and asked me to put it away. I had thought it was hers, when I saw it there, so I hadn't touched it. It's not hers, and not mine. You were the only other people there. So, here." He held it out to me again. I took it from him, but I was puzzled as to what it was. Not wanting to make a major point of it, I put it in my trunk. We shook hands and went our separate ways. He would be at training camp for three to four weeks before he got a break. I had told him to keep a particular weekend free, if he could. We were planning a small get together at the house. He grinned like a high school kid when he realized he was going to get to see Simone again. He paled when I said the invitation was for CeCe, too. I was still laughing at him as I drove back to the house. Janey's Spring Break came the following week and she went to Bala's for a visit. She wasn't dreading it, but I could tell she wasn't thrilled, either. I asked her about it. " I dunno, Dad. I like her and all and I want to go. Her country and culture are so neat. Not neat, like cool, but like, tidy, you know. It's so old, too. Everything and everyone has a place and reason, but at the same time it's an exciting time of change there. I, I really want to learn more about it and, if I can, help them, be a part of it somehow. But, it scares me that I want to be a part of it so much. I hope she's not mad at me for the way I talked to her, and all, too. I was pretty strict." I reassured her that Bala wasn't angry with her, that she just wanted to spend some time with her. She was probably lonely, all by herself in that house when Amud was at work. I knew she didn't go out without him. Yet. Maybe that was why she had asked Janey to visit. I hoped Janey wouldn't teach her to drive. Simone asked if it would be OK if she stayed at Aunt Marion's with Sally. Gertie had said she would pick her up there for her first visit and they would spend the day together. Sally agreed and so did I before I realized with a sudden sinking feeling that there was a good chance that Gertie, Sally and Marion would all be together at once. I had expended entirely too much effort keeping all the compartments of my life neatly separated and, in one fucking coincidental fell swoop, the three women who knew more of my life history than I did would be in the same place at the same time. If I had been so inclined, I would have had a panic attack. I kept a firm grip on my emotions, though, and just shit myself instead. Nicole and I left for Washington after everyone else had gone off on their own ways. I wasn't looking forward to being in Gertie's lab anymore than usual, but getting to spend some time alone with Nicole certainly was a definite plus. She was kind of quiet on the drive down. At one point I looked over and saw her wiping away a tear. I pulled into to the next rest area. "We don't have to go, you know," I told her. "Oh, no! I wish to go." I kept silent. She would tell me when she was ready. That much I had already sensed. "I am terrified, Lawrence. I have never been so terrified in my life." "I will be there with you, Nicole. You don't need to be terrified." "It is that which terrifies me, Lawrence." Again I stay silent. It seemed to be what she needed. "I wish so much to please you, to be perfect for you. This is so important to me. I need you to want me. I know it cannot be like with her. You and Sally are so comfortable with each other. I can see you love her, as she does you. It is hard to enter this, this family and not be envious of that love." I knew there was more. I was right. "And you haven't touched me. Not once. Not when Sally made me stay naked all the time in front of you, not when I lay at the foot of your bed like a dog. I saw you look at me and become aroused, but you would take Sally. Not me. Am I not good enough for you, Lawrence?" "Are you fishing for a compliment, Nicole, or are you questioning why I have not had sex with you?" She blushed, then gathered herself. "I know myself, I know what I am, and I know that I arouse you. It is difficult, though, to be sure of my attractiveness when I put myself at your disposal and not wonder when you refuse to use me. I have asked Sally about that, too. She said you were very particular about the timing, especially the first time. That you would make it special, as special as possible for me, for us. She told me of your trip to the beach. She let me borrow her swimsuit, if I needed it. Forgive me for questioning you, for doubting you." Oh, God! Was nothing sacred between these conspirators? I was a dead man, but there was still one more thing to come out. "Put all together, Lawrence, I am terrified about what you expect from me on this trip. Please help me to please you this week. What is it you require of me? Tell me, please. I will be your slave, your mistress, your slut, whatever. Please tell me." OK, so that one I hadn't expected. I took a moment to look at it from her perspective and realized she had every reason to be petrified. I told her what I wanted from her, not just this week, but always. As we sat there at the rest stop, I told her to be herself. I had seen glimpses of her personality sparkle through at times when she had been relaxed. Simone had not learned her delightfully coquettish behavior on her own. I told Nicole I wanted her to feel free to dance if asked, but only if I had fallen over dead from exhaustion and couldn't dance with her, that is. I was an aging man, remember. She laughed at my weak joke and we got back on the road, talking and laughing as we neared the Capital. I sensed her lack of confidence in certain things and tried to give her direction whenever I could. She learned quickly to read the subtle signs of my body language and my expressions. She ended the trip her head on my shoulder, resting easily, enjoying the initial closeness between us. Suddenly, Gertie's lab didn't seem so terrible. When Gertie found out I had selected Nicole to accompany me, she insisted that I bring her with me for the first day of labs. She wanted to meet Simone's mother. Gertie wouldn't be conducting the tests. She just did the analysis of the results, so she had time to spend with Nicole. Mostly the exams they put me through was a strenuous physical and endurance testing, reflex response times, some skill testing, and taking lots of samples of every possible bodily fluid and tissue. I hated those the most. They took tissues and fluids from every major organ system, including a bone scraping. I would rather they would have yanked off a fingernail. I was afraid to mention it, though, as that seemed to be the one thing they were not interested in. I completed the whole battery of tests late that night and dragged myself back to Gertie's office to pick up Nicole. The peals of laughter, light sounds from Nicole, a heartier tone from Gertie, met me far down the hallway and danced around me as I crawled to the open door. They saw me enter and were suddenly silent, conspirators in some manner. I was not too tired to notice. I was just too tired to mention it or even lift a questioning eyebrow. As I handed Nicole out the door, I turned to say goodbye to Gertie and thank her for keeping Nicole. To my surprise, she was sitting there watching us leave, tears in her eyes. Then, to totally blow me away, she gave me a two thumbs up sign and shooed me away, like a blustering aunt. I checked the schedule at the front desk for the time of my next appointment the following day. Another surprise. I was done with the physical tests and didn't have to come back, unless they found something in the analysis. I thought there had been an awful lot more tests and needles than usual. I didn't complain about it too loudly. The round of cocktail parties and ball started the next evening. Nicole and I had spent the morning doing one of the Smithsonian exhibits and then the National Gallery. It relaxed her to see things of such beauty. It made me happy to see her so happy. She was so attractive and vivacious as she warmed up to the paintings that several other couples tailed along after us, eager to hear her opinions of the masterpieces or a story of the artists. She spoke as if she had known all of the artists personally. Nicole was beautiful, smart and confident. I was the envy of all the men there. Some of the women, too, as I saw a couple of them eyeing her hungrily. We called it an early day after a leisurely lunch. Nicole had brought several gowns with her, waiting to decide which she was going to wear until the last minute. The bellhop at the luxury hotel I had booked for our stay had been astounded to find we were only going to be there a night or two. From the mound of luggage he had hauled into our suite, he had figured a month at the least. I shut his mouth with a sizable tip before he could insert his other foot as well. Nicole looked up at me. "How should I dress for this evening, Lawrence?' I had just seen this woman enthrall total strangers with her intelligence, her exotic accent and her charm. She had a much better sense of these things than I did. Having been burned recently by not playing to the strength of my lover, albeit Sally, I took Nicole's hand, kissed it lightly, and told her I trusted her judgement. I don't know if it was the kiss on the hand, our first, or the fact that I said I trusted her, but it was as if a fire had been lit inside of her. She glowed, radiated, shone. I heard her singing a light tune in the next room as she went about getting ready. I prepared myself for the worst. A baggy burlap rag slung over one corner. A horribly fashionable garish lime-green tutu with striped purple and yellow leggings. I was prepared to accept whatever she chose to wear, to tell her she was beautiful and set her on my arm with pride. In other words, I was prepared to lie though my teeth and back it up with a smile. I was not prepared for the vision that wafted though the bedroom door an hour later. I knew Nicole was a beautiful woman. I hadn't known she had the kind of beauty that could take your breath away. She disguised it well, behind the humdrum of life, but now, released into the open, Holy Shit! Apparently, my reaction to her was typical of other men's as she patiently waited for me to put my eyes back in their sockets, catch my breath and shut my gaping mouth after I had pulled my panting tongue back in. "Is this suitable, do you think, Lawrence?" she lilted in a melodious voice. Where had she hidden all this before now? My mouth working like a fish gasping for air, I nodded dazedly. I was speechless. I think it pleased her, the effect she was having on me. In a daze, we went to the ball. I felt like a sheep headed to the slaughtering house. I didn't realize how close that was to reality. Chapter 41 In typical Washington fashion, the round robin of social events was designed just like a cutthroat style athletic competition, where everyone tries to screw everyone else in order to advance to the next round. Yet all the time smiling and nodding as if enjoying themselves. I suppose some people could actually enjoy it, but it seemed a bit bloodthirsty to me. It was, however, apparently the system the people inside the Beltway were most comfortable with. I figured screwing other people was the only way they knew how to do anything. The format for the competition was that the first big bash would be for everybody. From that event, a selected few would advance to another, more exclusive event the next night. The larger group, the losers, who would never know of the more exclusive function, attended a formal dinner scheduled the next evening. They would return home the following morning, fat, happy and none the wiser. They just might be active voters, after all. At the exclusive function, the cattle would again be judged and from this event, even fewer couples would be selected for the next level, this one with lofty personages who, although technically called public servants, never seemed to find time for either the public nor to serve. The winners of the judging at that semi-final event got to mingle in the same atmosphere with the highest of the land, the President and First Lady and their guests of honor, usually heads of state or Nobel Prize winners. From the gene pool selected for this particular cattle drive that Nicole and I were attending, it was obviously not anticipated that there would be any winners for the grand prize, but rules are rules, so there was an outside chance of a winner. Scoring at the first big bash was varied and was based on pretty much what you would expect for a beauty contest. Could they walk upright, was their fly closed, was there any spinach stuck between their teeth? Bonus points were given for complete sentences, the more consecutive sentences strung together, the better. Humorous anecdotes received a huge bonus, unless they were old ones everyone knew or were obscene. A well-told titillating off-color story scored extremely high, however. The scoring at the each successive level was a magnitude tougher than at the previous level, as was the determination for the grand prize tougher still. One had to be careful not to appear more intelligent or debonair than the guests of honor, those with whom one was being allowed to hobnob at each particular soiree, while still appearing interesting and post-Cro-Magnon. Nicole took to this atmosphere like crabgrass to my lawn in spring. Probably 99.9% of the people there had no clue what was going on. Nicole not only figured it out, she spotted the scorers. I had never seen her so vitalized, so challenged, so French. This was her element. Apparently they taught this stuff in kindergarten in her country. Her countrymen and countrywomen had invented this little game that was being played all around us. She went after it like it was matter of national pride to win the gold medal. Within ten minutes of entering the ballroom, she tugged me urgently to one side, out of earshot of the other guests. "Lawrence, you did not tell me. What is the prize?" I looked at her only slightly less blank than I was still bedazzled by her beauty. When she saw I truly didn't know what was going on, she succinctly and patiently explained the contest, the rules as played in the French aristocracy, and again demanded to know what the prize was. Still without a clue, she finally asked who was important, who was in town? A president, a king or Shah? I wracked my brain, sifting though the news I had heard, both on the public news stations and what I had heard through the Agency grapevine while I had been there for my physical. I had heard some disturbing news while I was there related to Gary, but nothing about an alert for a bigwig being in town. I told her no one. Then I asked her if Gertie had mentioned anything to her the day before. That brought her up short. She had known the answer all along. "Oh, dearest Lawrence, we must win! Gertie said she was meeting with some scientists in town and that the president was seeing them later in the week." Good old Gertie. She always seemed to know everything. I asked Nicole, "So. Who are they?" She looked at me as if I was a stupid child. "Does it matter? We must win!" Well, excuuuuse me! We slipped back into the general hubbub of the ballroom, but now, as I looked, I could see the gentle manipulation and orchestration of the flow of the attendees. We were being gently herded as lambs to the slaughter so that all the players moved by the unobtrusive outposts of the scorers. Nicole allowed us to be moved along, but she positioned us at a point for optimum advantage as we came in range of each station. It happened so quickly, I had to pinch myself. A witty quip to me, a fairytale laugh, and we were by the judges, who were lurking like hunters in a duck blind. Maximum points. Timing was everything in this event. Now I was the one who was terrified. This meant so much to Nicole, and I didn't want to blow it. She seemed to sense my dismay and looked up at me. "Lawrence, do not worry. Just relax and enjoy it. This part is women's work." The twinkle in her eyes was all the reassurance I needed. I had a sudden urge to pick my nose, however, which I resisted by putting my itching finger in the small of Nicole's back, along with the rest of my hand. She took this a sign I would follow her lead, and Nicole was off to the races. We must win! We made the rounds of the scorers for about 90 minutes, then she pulled me off to the side, out of the fray. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining brightly. "Why are we out here, Nicole? Are you feeling OK?" I had to admit this was kind of fun. The cotillion had a style of combat all it's own, with all the feints, attacks and counter-attacks of a major battle. Something told me it was not always bloodless, either, with this much emotion at stake. "Ah, Lawrence, so much fun I have not had in a long time. Thank you for bringing me. But we must not, as you say, run up the score. We have made it to the next round. See that horrid lady with the blue hair?" Nicole was referring to the hostess of the event and she was being kind in her description of the old bitch. Her silvery hair did seem to have a bluish tint to it. "She is giving the portly gentleman his instructions. He should be, yes, he has seen us." She looked up at me, delightfully pleading. "We can stay an extra night, no? I, I can help with the hotel bill, perhaps?" What man could refuse such a request? I gave her another kiss on her hand, bowing to her and her wishes as I did so. I kept my eyes on hers as I bowed, then lowered them to get a close up look at her exposed cleavage. She noticed my close inspection of her bust and moved slightly to give me a better view. I swear she inhaled and held it to maximize their size and shape for me. My eyes flicked back up to hers, and I winked, a bit lasciviously. Her flush now extended across the upper slopes of those luscious breasts I had just ogled. She lowered her eyes from mine, then closed them in happiness. The portly gentleman, a long term Congressman whose effectiveness in the House had been inversely proportional to the length of his stay in office, cleared his throat to get our attention. I instantly took a dislike to this pompous lecher. He spoke to me, but never raised his eyes above the level of Nicole's chest. Gritting my teeth, I graciously accepted the invitation to a formal cocktail party at the house of a corporate magnate the following evening. I assured him we would not mind altering our plans and inquired if we would get to see more of him the next night. He indicated he and his lovely wife, the blue-haired cow, would be hosting the scheduled dinner party for the others attending, so unfortunately we would not see him there. Ah, yes. The losers. When he was gone, Nicole said it would be OK to leave now, if I wished. It was not a great distance to the hotel and I asked if she would like to walk. She laughed like a schoolgirl and nodded excitedly. The evening was a delight, a warm early Spring evening, the cherry blossoms just beginning to appear. There was a hint of moisture on the grass as we strolled through the park-like grounds of the nation's capital. Nicole slipped off her shoes and went barefoot in the grass. I carried her dainty heels for her, enjoying the simple pleasure of her company. "You were jealous, Lawrence." "What do you mean?" "When that fat man stared at my breasts. You were jealous." I noticed he had gone from portly to fat, now that we had made the second round. I started to bluster a protest, but she stopped me. "It is nice of you to care, to want to protect me. It feels nice. But do not be jealous of the looks. It is the way of men and women. Did you not notice when you looked just before he did, how I helped you, encouraged you to look? Did you not notice I enjoyed your looking at me?" I nodded my head that I had. "And did you see me helping him? I did not, but you did not notice, did you? You were too busy grinding your teeth or clenching your fists, no?" I admitted she was right, on all accounts. She took my hand and held it in hers as we walked along, fingers intertwined. She pulled back when she realized she had initiated the contact, but I held her hand fast in mine. It felt right. It fit right. She relaxed. Later that night we lay in bed together. She had come to bed in a frilly nightgown. It was incredibly sexy and I took great delight in removing it from her body. I wanted her naked, and naked she remained. She sat trembling as I caressed her, then laid her back on the pillows. I snuggled in behind her spoon fashion and held her, loving the feel of skin on skin. Nicole was antsy and kept shifting. I understood she was nervous and I just held her, not making any moves to penetrate her or arouse her further. Still she squirmed. "Uh, Lawrence, Sally has told me of this position, that you favor it for the cuddling time. I did not believe her. This is not the right time, is it?" she asked finally. "The right time for what?" as if I didn't know what she meant. "You will not take me tonight. Correct, no?" "Correct, yes." "I, I cannot say I am not disappointed, my love, but I will wait if I have to. However, this position, with your wonderful equipment poised right at my entrance, well, it excites me too much to sleep. I am always waiting for your powerful thrust into me and I cannot bear the wait. Please, may I?" With that, she flipped over to face me, so that we were both on our sides facing one another. With a gentle touch from her, I lifted one leg to allow her to insert one of hers between mine. She slipped her arm under mine, trapping her close to my body, even in sleep. Her breasts pressed tantalizingly against my chest and my cock rested against the inner thigh of her lower leg. Our faces were almost touching and the sweet moist smell of her breath filled my nostrils. I felt her hand travel up my back and soon her fingers were entwined in my hair. I nearly shot off. "This is much better, is it not, my Lawrence?" I was at a loss. "Where, uh, where am I supposed to put my hand, Nicole?" waving my free hand in the air. She giggled. "Why, wherever you wish, Master! Can you not reach everything better this way?" She tilted her head back in mock surrender. "I am yours to cuddle, oh my wonderful master!" I took her up on it. Several hours later, we slipped off to sleep in the same position, much more familiar with each other's bodies. Chapter 42 I woke up looking into the sparkling blue eyes of a beautiful woman. She had been lying there quietly for some time, waiting for her Master to awaken. I leaned down, even with morning breath, and kissed her. The desperateness of her response stirred my blood, but I held off taking her then and there, regardless of my obvious desire for her. I had found that anticipation is a wonderful thing, and it worked both ways. It wasn't the right time. But soon. We lay in bed for a while talking until the urgencies of the morning forced us into the bathroom. She wanted to wear her robe to cover that glorious body, but I refused her all covering. Although she had been naked in my presence before, this time she was shy and vulnerable. I helped her into the shower and she cried softly as I gently washed her body. It wasn't from sadness, but rather it was a release of the emotions we were both feeling. It was a time of intimacy for us that surpassed the playfulness of the night before. As she took the washcloth from me, she traced the scars along my body. Some were faint, old reminders of dead enemies. One was fresh, still red and livid from a knife wound. When she had cleaned all of me but my erect member, she looked up at me questioningly. She had cum several times the night before by my hand, but I had not allowed her to touch me. This time I did nothing to stop her. She shyly touched my hardened prick and looked up. I again did nothing. Slowly she sank to her knees, both hands now holding my stiff cock. She explored the length and thickness of me as if she had never seen a male member before. She looked up once more as she began stoking me, arousing me to climax. I did not stop her. I wouldn't have even if I had been coherent enough to think straight. Her hand job technique took my breath away. It was novel to me, different from Sally's or Janey's. I had had my share of hand jobs before, but none quite like this. I can't exactly explain it but it seemed as if she were using just the tips of her fingers and a lot of fingernail to lightly scrape along the sensitized skin. Her other hand teased the coronal rim with feather touches. I can't say for sure, as my eyes were shut tight, the feelings incredible. She caught my cum in her face, moving into the line of fire intentionally. While I was gasping, trying to catch my breath from that indescribable experience, she daintily wiped a glob of my cream that had collected on her chin onto her finger and then touched it to the tip of her tongue. Seeing she had my rapt attention, she swirled her tongue around the end of her finger, sucking it in a manner so sexy, I remained as hard as I had been before. I didn't have to tap into Dr. Wang's gadgets, either. She was simply incredible and laughed delightedly when she saw that I had remained hard for her. Leading me by my prick, Nicole guided me out of the shower. We dried each other, then just held one another. It was intimate, but not sexual. We simply enjoyed the closeness of each other, the feel of her skin on mine, her ear against my chest listening to my heart. I enjoyed the incredible softness of the skin of her ass cheeks, tickling her lightly as I ran my fingers over her body. With a soft sigh, we separated, kissed lightly and I left her to her preparations for the day. She dressed casually and I must have looked disappointed as she asked if something was wrong with the way that she was dressed. I told her no, only that I missed seeing her naked body. She melted into my arms, hiding her blushing face in my chest. When she looked up, I kissed away the tiny tears of happiness in the corners of her eyes and we went out for the day. Nicole had not seen the new house, and since Simone was there, we rented a car and slipped up to my old stomping grounds. She gasped in wonderment as we drove past the open gate. It was like a park inside the walls. The trees my father had planted all those years ago were maturing nicely and it was a validation of his planning that they fit in so well with the rest of the landscaping. Nicole was delighted at every turn, exclaiming at this arrangement, then the next. Turning the last corner of the drive, the house loomed suddenly in front of us. Nicole was, for once, speechless. The house was an edifice worthy of the architect of the palace at Versailles. It was totally functionless, entirely ostentatious and on such a scale as to defy any attempt at imitation. It had but one purpose and that was to impress the Hell out of anyone who saw it. It worked. It had given my father the home court advantage in more than one deal that had taken place out on the back lawn. Sally ran out of the house when she saw the car appear. I expected her to greet me first, but she hugged Nicole fiercely not me, then led her into the house deep in whispered conversation. When Sally did greet me, it was with a glorious hug. "You cad!" she whispered into my ear. "You're seducing her! I should have known you would make her fall in love with you first. I apologize for doubting you." I hugged her back just as joyfully. "What? You were worried?" I felt her nod against my chest. She really cared about Nicole. It made me feel glad that she did. Marion and Simone were out on the grounds, exploring. Sally was expecting another contractor to arrive at any moment, so I gave Nicole the tour. We saw the renovations well underway in parts of the house. The kitchen had been completely torn out. I grinned. It had always been an awkward place. Best just to start over. I winced as I thought how much it would cost, but things at work were going well. It wasn't a big concern. Nicole knew immediately that the salon had been a special place to me. She looked up at the tremendous expanse of glass that went from the floor to the high ceiling two stories above. Her fingers tightened on my arm in a reassuring squeeze. She loved this place, too. Her biggest squeal of joy came, however, in the garage. My father had converted the old carriage house into a monster garage. I had had the opportunity to collect a few cars that had caught my eye here and there and I had them stored here. I was not in Jay Leno's league, by any means, but I had a couple of nice machines. Nicole's delighted outburst came when she saw the centerpiece of my collection, a Bugatti roadster. Nicole explained to me that her Papa had raced this exact same model in a Monte Carlo race. He had loved that car and kept it in racing condition even after he had stopped racing. It was his second joy, after Nicole. "But, why, Lawrence, do you not drive this wonderful machine? It is such a waste to let it sit here, where no one enjoys it. Machines such as this were meant to be driven!" "Nicole, I love this car but I cannot handle it right now. It just isn't the right time, and I don't have the right skills to make it fly as it should. Someday the time will be right, and I, or someone else will come along who can drive this car properly. Then, well, then we'll drive it until the wheels fall off." She looked at me in horror at the thought of the wheels falling off that wonderful car. "That is an expression, no? The wheels fall off?" I laughed. "Yes, it is an expression. It means that I would use it to its fullest capacity, until it was all used up, but in a good way." She gave a sigh of relief, "Oh, good. But with this car that is many, many years away, before the wheels fall off!" Simone and Marion were just back from their exploring and joined us in the garage. Marion had a bloom to her cheeks that I hadn't seen in many years, making her look much younger. Simone had that effect on people. Mother and daughter hugged and I hugged Marion. I even got a peck on the cheek from Simone, with a quick "Thank you for making Mama happy." What man could ask for more? Nicole and I needed to get back to Washington for the next round of competition, but she was reluctant to leave the beautiful machine. It was interesting to see her torn between two loves, the love of the car and the love of the battle. The battle won. This time. Chapter 43 The second round of the festivities were held in the disguise of a cocktail party. The venue was a large mansion on a slight rise overlooking the Potomac River. The competition was tougher this time, as more of the contestants had an idea of what was going on. None, however, had the social skills to match Nicole's. She tittered and blinked her way into the hearts of the most hardened judges within the first thirty minutes of the evening. If we, meaning I, didn't blow it for the remainder of the evening, we were a shoe-in for the next event. I managed to smile appropriately and not stare at all the exposed flesh that was being flaunted. This group was definitely selected from the younger and firmer crowd. Nicole noticed my discomfort and the way I would continually look away from an attractive set of tits that were on display under my nose. Other than hers. "Lawrence, it is OK to look. In fact, it is expected. If you do not, they will think you do not like them, or perhaps that you do not like women in general. You must caress the women with your eyes, seduce them as you have done to me, my lover. Make magic with them. `Look but don't touch' is what you say, no? It is expected. Why do you think we wear clothes like this, to please each other? No, my handsome man, it is to attract the male. So be attracted, it is permitted." What? I'm supposed to argue with that? I looked. It became a game to let the women know I was going to look, then look lingeringly, longingly, then grin wickedly as I tried to convey all of the evil and delicious things I would do to them given the chance. Hypothetically, of course. I swear a couple of them orgasmed as we did our imaginary copulations. Nicole had to rescue me from one ardent belle. I had noticed this blonde woman shifting her bodice to expose more and more of her somewhat mediocre tits to my view, if any set of well-displayed knockers could ever be called mediocre. I was, however, taking home a set that far surpassed what she was blatantly offering me. We had made the eye sex twice now, and she was moving in for the kill. I figured that any touching would disqualify us from the competition, as there were no discrete nooks, libraries, coat rooms or bed rooms available for that kind of thing. Nicole saw my predicament and watched for a while in obvious delight as I squirmed. I'll admit, the blonde lady was pretty good as she maneuvered me into as secluded a corner as could be found. How Nicole managed to spill a full glass of red wine over the woman's left shoulder while coming from the other direction I'll never know. Perhaps one day she'll teach me that trick, as it worked to perfection. The lady wheeled, the seduction forgotten, loudly blaming an innocent bloke who was standing behind her, coincidentally holding an empty wineglass. Hysterical shrieking also seemed to be grounds for disqualification from the competition as was wearing a drink. About three couples were discretely pulled aside into a separate library. We were all invited to attend a simple dinner the following evening as the guests of the senior US senator from my home state. I didn't think it was the proper time to tell the senile SOB what I really thought of him and his politics. I would tell him with my vote. I graciously accepted his kind invitation for Nicole and myself. Later that evening Nicole lifted her mouth off my cock. "You did not like this man, the senator?" I was dumbfounded. Here I was doing my best to suck the life out of her via her cunt, and doing a pretty good job, too, I might add, and she was thinking about the old lard ass? I dumped her off me. She landed with a surprised squeak on the floor. "Something has upset you, Master. I can tell." She took the hand I offered her and I helped her back into bed. We got into the position she had shown me the night before. She started to play with me and I gently but firmly locked her arm under mine, holding it against my ribs. There was a little fright in her eyes as I looked into them. She was off balance, unsure what she had done wrong. I leaned in and kissed her forehead letting her know that I was not angry. Still, the frightened look was very becoming on her. Just a little. "You wanted to ask me something. About the senator?" I suggested quietly. "Yes, but it was not that important. Just a passing thought. We were doing the `69', and were not finished, no?" she hinted. "You are most talented, Master." "Obviously not talented enough, if you can interrupt what we were doing to ask about some stupid senator, mon Cheri." "Ah, yes. The ego thing Sally warned me about." "Sally what?!!!" I exclaimed. She nearly ended up on the floor again. "Do not be upset, Master. She warned me that you are very focused in your sex play. She said you would give everything you have to pleasure your woman and she was right. You are very good. It is a pride thing with you to make us thunder inside, that your ego makes you work so hard to please us. "Do not misunderstand. It is a rare gift. It is even more wonderful to be the recipient of such a gift and talent as you have. But if I do not divert my mind from the feelings you give to me with your tongue and fingers, I cannot focus on your pleasure. I do not wish to bite your equipment and I have had to think of many things tonight, dearest Lawrence, to keep from forgetting you in my ecstasy." "You expect me to believe that?" I asked disbelievingly. "No. But Sally said to try." I laughed. "Are you going to tell me what the real reason is?" She looked at me intensely, boring into my eyes with hers as if trying to ascertain if I could handle the truth. Apparently I could. "Lawrence, men are different from women. I mean in other ways, not like that. I am desperately trying not to fall in love with you, but I am losing. Understand please, each time you make me thunder inside, I love you more. It is too fast, this tumbling of my emotions. I am uncertain of your intentions, if you will accept me. Yes, you love me as a woman, but will you accept me as your slave, as you have done with Sally? It is a bigger commitment than marriage. "So I think of chores, changing diapers, anything distasteful to take my mind from the pleasure you give to me." "And the senator was the most distasteful thing you could think of?" "Yes, by far." "Well, to answer your original question, I agree." We lay in silence for some time. "Nicole, if you feel this is going too fast, I'll slow down. I'm sorry to have frightened you." "Ah, Master, Sally knows you so well. I am a little jealous. She said you would say that, too. It is not your fault, or problem, this fear I have. Do you not know how much I want this to work, how much I love you already? We know, Sally and I, what it is we are asking of you. It is me who does not want to frighten you away." With that, she pulled her arm free and moved down my body. I let her capture my cock with her mouth and satisfy the hunger she had to make me cum. The second time took her longer, but she was determined. When I still remained hard, she groaned and started in again a third time. I lifted her off and brought her face back to mine. I kissed her salty lips, a mixture of sweat, tears and my own cum. "Enough, Nicole. You won't frighten me off. The concept of one woman is frightening enough, and two is terrifying. But I trust Sally. I'm beginning to trust you. I like you, I like what I have learned of you the last few days." I held her tight to me until we drifted off. She wasn't the only one who was scared. Chapter 44 In the morning shower, I made it thunder for her again. She held my head against her as she came time after time from my tongue and fingers. It was a statement of her trust in me. It scared the shit out of me. We spent the day in bed reading, touching, and talking. Well, not much reading. Or talking, either for that matter. We found each other's special spots, those areas that did certain things to us. I still did not penetrate her, and she accepted that it would happen in my time. It was a major step for her in her acceptance of me as her true master. That evening's dinner saw us seated across and apart from one another. We were both on trial tonight. She may have gotten us this far, but from here on out, we were in it together. She would glance down the long table at me from time to time and flash me her wonderful smile. She was not worried. I relaxed and enjoyed the dinner, the conversation and the company. Well, the food was OK, anyway. We left the dinner without an invitation. I could tell she was disappointed, but she refused to allow anyone the satisfaction of seeing just how much it had meant to her. That night, when she came to our bed in the hotel room, she knelt beside me rather than lying down. She was offering me something. She had a collar, one of Sally's old ones if I didn't miss my bet. The medallion was missing, but I recognized the workmanship. "You know that if I put that on you, there will be no sex tonight?" I asked her. She nodded. "Yes, Master. Sally told me..." "Damn it, woman! Is there anything you two haven't discussed?" I demanded. "I don't think so, Master, not when it concerns you. We both love you very much. You are the most important thing to us, even more than our daughters in many ways. Of course we talk about you, how to please you, how you will react to this and that. She has said you would not take me the first time under the collar. I accept that, but you may if you wish to take me this way. I-I- I need this tonight, Master. Forgive me for being so weak." I took the collar from her shaking hands. I locked it around her throat. It was a bit tighter than it had been on Sally, but apparently they had tried it out. She didn't gasp or choke. I sat up in the bed, propped up against the headboard. I spread my legs. I nodded at my groin. "Head Time," was all I said. The room lit up with her smile. She locked her hands behind her back, one hand holding the other wrist tightly. She bowed before me and swallowed just the head of my cock into her mouth. With her in position - and quiet - I began talking to her. I told her my thoughts and dreams, what I envisioned our life becoming. I told her where I thought the problems would be and what I was planning on doing to prevent them. I talked of my clients, listing them by name so she would become familiar with them. Once or twice she started to rise to address some issue. I held her head firmly in place. She realized she was to listen. I was telling her things I had never told anyone, not even Sally. I felt the tears washing over the base of my cock. At first I thought my forcing her to stay in that position hurt her. I reached out with my senses to touch her. I hadn't been able to do that with her much. It was as if she didn't have much to sense, like her sense was hibernating, hidden inside. This time, whether it was because we were touching or because she was more open to me, I could feel her better. I sensed that her tears were tears of joy and satisfaction. I was trusting her with my dreams. They were shared between us, and no one else. She would treasure them forever. I kept her at Head Time for a long time. I was sure her mouth ached, but she never broke. When I took her off she thanked me for allowing her the honor. Nicole remained kneeling between my legs, her head bowed down touching the mattress. She needed more. I reached out with my sense to her and found her open and waiting for me. I sensed her better than ever before. I saw what she needed, as if she had drawn me a picture. I bound her hands behind her back using one of my ties. I tied her ankles the same way. I positioned her across the foot of the large bed, her head where my feet would go. I gagged her with my last tie. I could see the glowing aura around her now. This was what she wanted, to be possessed, to be bound and used. It released her as nothing else. I slipped my feet under her head so that she could use my ankles for a pillow. Not the softest body part, by far, but she wasn't concerned with comfort. I lay back and shut my eyes, listening to her soft moans, letting her sing me to sleep with them. She was not in pain, but was experiencing a tremendous release of built up tensions, fears and frustrations. I had accepted her, bound her as if I owned her and had put her in a place of submission. She felt wanted, needed and loved. I woke to the quiet, but insistent knocking on the hotel door. I looked at the clock. 6:00 AM. God! Who could be this inconsiderate? I threw open the door to reveal not only myself, but the freshly scrubbed face of a White House intern. Believe me, they are not all as ugly or fat as Monica. This one was a slender girl, probably 18 years of age, of African-American descent. She was a cute girl, and at the moment her eyes were fixed on the sight of my hard cock. Suddenly remembering her task, she offered me a silver tray that held a sealed envelope. My name was embossed across the front and the flap was sealed with the Presidential Seal. The hand written card inside invited me and a guest (vetted, of course) to be in attendance at a presidential reception this evening. It was signed by the President. The intern had remained standing in the doorway, waiting for a reply. She had gumption, this one, and I immediately liked her. She had fastened her gaze on a sconce on the far wall behind me and had not wavered from that stare. I told her we would be honored attend. She told me a limo would pick us up at 6:00 sharp in the lobby. With one more lingering look at my cock she turned to go. Just as she turned, I caught her eye and winked. She grinned, shook her head in disbelief, and said, "They'd never believe me if I told them. Nobody gets this lucky." A generous laugh, and she shut the door. I felt flattered. Nicole was waiting where I had left her. She couldn't really go anywhere tied the way she was. I sat down on the bed, holding the envelope and invitation where she couldn't see. With a little effort, I lifted her and laid her across my lap in a spanking position. She realized what I was doing and began a mock struggle, doing more rubbing against my cock and elevating her ass than trying to get away. The first firm swat of that ass felt glorious. I think we both groaned in delight. After the second swat, I laid the envelope in front of her face so she could read my name. After a couple more swats, I flipped it over so she could see the waxed seal. It wasn't until she read the note, though, that she realized we had won the grand prize. Her ass was a rosy red when I stopped swatting her. She didn't care. When I released her she flew into my arms, sobbing happily. I'm not sure if it was the spanking, the bondage or the invitation that made her so aggressive in the shower that morning, but I didn't care. I let her thank me all she wanted. It was great. After our shower, Nicole was a snake-ball of nervous tension. She couldn't even eat. Getting there was the prize, getting asked back was the ultimate. I didn't have access to the services I would have normally used for Sally and Janey, so I asked Nicole if she would allow me to help her relax. She misunderstood and immediately her hand went to my crotch, grabbing my prick. Her face was a study in puzzlement as I tried to explain that's not what I meant. Again, I asked her if I could help her. She nodded, unsure of what I had planned. First, I drew her a hot bath, using all the oils and fragrances the hotel provided. I helped her disrobe, always a joy, and step into the hot steaming water. Although she had just gotten out of the shower, she relished the idea of a hot bath. I told her to wait, then called room service. It was a long call. Soon, breakfast arrived. I served to her in the bathroom what I hoped was a typical French breakfast of croissants, marmalade, and steaming coffee. In the meantime, the rest of my order arrived and was set up in the other room. When she came out of the tub, I dried her. She tried to protest, but I stopped her with a soft kiss. It was hard for her, I think, but she let me. I wrapped her in a heated robe, then led her to the other room. The robe came back off as I helped her up onto a massage table. She sighed in obvious pleasure as I rubbed the scented oils into her skin. I wasn't an expert by any means, but I knew enough to be very effective. She was almost numb when I slipped her over onto her back. As I touched her erogenous zones, I could feel the tensions building up inside her. Using my sensing skills, I teased her ever higher, in imperceptibly small steps. I had all day for this and I was going to help her relax. I touched her clit lightly, then flicked it back and forth. She deflated like a toy balloon. All the tension and anxiety flooded out of her with that release. I lifted her limp body in my arms and carried her back to the bath. The recycle feature of that spa had kept the water temperature high. This time I got in the tub behind her and held her head above the surface as we soaked. She slept for some time, floating in a blissfully relaxed state. I enjoyed holding her quiet body, keeping her safe. She rolled over in my arms, still slippery from the massage oils. "Thank you, Lawrence. Master. You are a strange and wonderful man. I only hope I will not disappoint you, tonight or ever." "I doubt that you ever will, Nicole. You are very special." She spent the remainder of the afternoon in the hotel beauty salon. I told her she didn't need it, but she insisted. I don't know what she paid, but when I saw her later, it had been worth it. She looked fabulous. As she was finishing her preparations, I slipped up behind her. I unlocked the old leather collar and put a jeweled choker around her neck. I had been able to slip out while she was in the salon. "I will replace this later with one like Sally's, but for now, know you are mine. My command to you tonight is to be the most outstanding woman ever to impress the President or his guests. If you have any questions, look to me. I will decide for you." Her hand reached up to touch the choker. I watched in the mirror as she caressed it lightly with her fingers. My cock was jealous of that touch. I felt a wonderful sense coming from her. She was happy. Wonderfully, gloriously happy. She would do her utmost to please me tonight, and always. I wondered at the increase in my sensitivity to her link. I would have to talk with Sally about this. I also wondered what Gertie would say about all this link stuff. I would probably end up dissected on a lab table if I told her about it. Still, it seemed that as Nicole opened up a little and became more comfortable with me I could sense her better. When I thought back, pretty much the same thing had happened with Sally and Janey. Now, with Nicole, it happened sooner because I was aware of it and didn't pass it off as indigestion or something. The limo was waiting as we exited the elevators at exactly 6:00. A hush fell over the lobby of this busy hotel as an angel passed through it. I was blessed. I got to accompany her. She had on a red velvet dress that was held up more by imagination than any physical law. My choker was her only adornment, other than her charm, beauty, intelligence and the palpable gaze of any man fortunate enough to glimpse her. I had wondered why she had insisted on carrying her wrap. Now I knew. She was just testing the hardware. She squeezed my hand as sat in the back of the car. "Jealous?" "A little. You testing me or the effects of that dress, Madame?" "I am glad you are not blindly jealous, Lawrence. A little bit is good, it heats the bed at night, no? Too much, well, it is not good. I saw you watching the men in the hotel. Look at me next time, it will help ease some of hard feelings you have for the men who look at me. And who enjoy it more than you think they should." It was going to be hard to share her, but she was confident I could. I would do my damnedest. Chapter 45 The limo took us to an airfield. A White House helicopter was waiting and airlifted us on the short ride to our destination. Nicole was looking around in concern as the city disappeared behind us. My reassuring smile did not ease it. "Where, where are we going? I cannot see the monuments anymore." "I think we are headed to Camp David. The President was reported to be staying there this week." "A camp? Mon Dieu! I have overdressed." "My darling Nicole, there is no way anyone could accuse you of being overdressed in that gown!" I laughed at her. She did not appreciate the humor. The helicopter settled down on a wide expanse of lawn. In deference to Nicole's perfect hair, the marine corporal let the blades spin down completely before he opened the door. She favored the corporal with an enticing view of her assets. I received an undeserved crisp salute as I exited the helicopter. "At ease, corporal." "That would be difficult at the moment, sir. I'm at attention all over," he quipped back. I shot him an amazed look. He grinned and finished with an emphatic, "Thank you, sir!" I had the feeling he really was thankful. Maybe this sharing thing could work out after all. It proved to be a night of predictability as well as one of surprises. It was predictable in that Nicole wowed the other guests with her charm and her beauty. It was almost comical when one of them, a French physicist who had won the Nobel Prize a few years back, recognized and remembered Nicole from her time at the University. Apparently her admirers had long memories. "Mademoiselle Nicole! What an honor to see you again!" came an accented shout across the room. Nicole stiffened in recognition and muttered "Merde" under her breath before slipping a charming smile on her face and going out to meet the man. I was dragged along as an insurance policy, her arm tightly linked in mine. "Mon Dieu, how you have grown! And what a beauty you have become! Gaston!" he called to his colleague, "come and meet Nicole Le Brech, a student of mine from the University." Loudly the two old distinguished gentlemen reminisced with Nicole, much of the time in French. Lusting after her young body had not stopped the professors from encouraging her academically. The physicist had actually followed her career and knew she held several patents. I was highly entertained. On several fronts. First, it became obvious that the people who had vetted Nicole had no idea who she really was. They must have cleared her based on my relationship with her, which was a huge no-no. It felt good they were so confident in my abilities, but heads were going to roll on this one. Second, the President and First Lady were left floundering like us common folk as they found their information on her was sorely inadequate. They didn't know she spoke French, they didn't even know she was French, they didn't know she was a Ph.D., they didn't know she knew the guests of honor, they didn't know shit. I could see their eyes glaze over as the tightly scripted evening they had planned went out the window. Third, Nicole was begging me, pleading to me with her eyes to rescue her. She would glance over and I would give her the most `I'm not jealous' look I could manage. She finally caught on that I was teasing her and started to glare at me in anger. I simply reached up and touched a finger to my neck, reminding her of her collar. Her eyes widened as I nodded at the two scientists. She understood. She had been too worried to charm them. That changed almost immediately. She deftly took charge and began directing the conversation down less technical paths, and doing it in English. Finally, she had them relating ribald anecdotes of French University politics that had everybody in stitches. I noticed it was she that had initially mentioned a particularly memorable tale from her time at the University and had asked her professor to relate the story, as she couldn't quite remember all of it. She slipped away from the enthralled crowd gathered around the two storytellers and came back to my side. Looking up at me she said, "Thank you, Master, for reminding me of my place." The First Lady, a notorious champion of women's rights, had been standing directly behind Nicole as she had addressed me. She had come over to speak with Nicole and had heard Nicole refer to me as `Master.' From her thunderous countenance, I couldn't tell which direction this was going to go. The First Lady gave me a murderous glance, which I ignored. I understood it was at my own peril to do so. "That was nicely done, Miss Le Brech. Nicely done." I think she meant it as a compliment. Nicole, back in her element, turned on her charm. The First Lady gave me another black glance as she took Nicole with her into her own private area of influence. I wandered the room, mingling with the guests. So far, like I said, it had been pretty predictable. The first surprise of the evening came when Gertie showed up at my side. "Gertie! I didn't know you came to these things." "I don't. This is the first time I've been here in 10 years. They always ask me to the scientific and medical shindigs, but I never come. When they called to chat about you, for me to clear you, well, I mentioned it might be a good idea if I was here, too, just in case. They were more than happy to let me come along." "Just in case of what?" I asked suspiciously. "Oh, nothing. Well, nothing much. Oh, Hell, you know how it is. You say this, and then you say that and suddenly they think that maybe some of those drugs we gave you way back then might flare up at any moment, especially in times of stress...." "Gertie, you didn't! Is that why I have a shadow?" I nodded to my right, indicating a husky fellow who had been ghosting me all evening. "Yep. Him, too," she grinned, indicating the other one I had pegged as security on me. "The little guy has a tranquilizer gun full of some of the most amazing stuff. You'd love it! Sure you don't want to flip out? Just a little? I've been dying for a chance to try this new mixture out on a human. The rats we tested just kind of lay there and flopped around. It's most entertaining." Her eyes glittered in glee and she was enjoying herself way too much. Careful not to show too much emotion, I shook my head. "So why are you here, really?" "Honestly? I wouldn't have missed this for the world. You are a very important man to me. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you now, after all I have invested in you. By the way, there were some interesting results on your physical. You haven't had any, uh, unreported surgery or, uh, um, implants have you?" I blushed and the guy went for the tranquilizer gun. Not wanting to get carted out of the room, I immediately went into my relaxation techniques I had learned to control my special senses. My breathing slowed and my heart rate moderated as I sought the quiet of that inner place. Instinctively I thought of the beach and the sandcastles. It worked better than it ever had before. "Most impressive, Mr. Sampson. Most impressive! You may have to come and teach us your technique for that. I have never seen you exhibit such self control." Gertie's eyes were like flashing diamonds, she was so excited. Reluctantly, I told her about Dr. Wang. She was pissed I had omitted it in the reports, but said she understood. She was very interested in the Rosens' work, and not just from a scientific perspective I gathered. "Oh, Gertie. By the way, I met an interesting young woman this morning." Gertie rolled her eyes. In her opinion, I was always meeting `interesting' young women. "Seriously, Gertie. I think you'd like her for the program." That got her attention. Mostly she held the opinion that I recruited the women for my own little programs. It wasn't true, but it always seemed that there was at least one broken heart after one of my missions. "She's bright, recovers from shock fairly fast, has a sense of humor... You'd like her." "What exactly was the shock she recovered from?" "Oh, well, uh, I opened the door a little to widely." "How wide?" "I threw it all the way open. She was knocking on it. It was 6:00 in the morning. I was pissed. And naked." "And she saw...?" "Everything." "Everything?" "Yep." "She didn't run screaming from the hotel? She didn't faint?" I shook my head. "She even made a joke about the situation." "Damn. I like her all ready. Where can I find her?" Even though I didn't know here name, I described the young White House intern to her. I could tell that Gertie would make sure they would meet. Accidentally, of course. Gertie would want to make her own assessment of the girl. I looked up just as the second surprise of the evening came walking over. I had never seen Marion looking so lovely. She greeted Gertie warmly, then turned to me. "Finally made it to the big time, huh, little brother?" "You're a regular here, too, I take it?" "Oh, no! This is the first time I've been here in about 5 years." Where had I heard that line before? "Let me guess. When they called to ask you about me, you suggested it might be a good idea if you were here to ease the way, lessen the stress?" She looked at me in astonishment that I had guessed it right the first time. I simply pointed at Gertie. "You two should talk." I walked away with my two shadows, shaking my head. The evening went late. Nicole had never been allowed to leave the First Lady's side since she had first retrieved her from mine. Nicole had captivated her and her collection of ass-kissing old biddies she surrounded herself with. I saw her touch the collar occasionally, look over at me for reassurance and then smile inwardly. I saw the First Lady observe these silent communications between us. She didn't like them, but was clearly puzzled by our relationship and Nicole's obvious intelligence. With the reputation I had with security and with a guy with the loaded tranquilizer gun watching my back, I avoided any movement towards the President, so he and I didn't speak at all that evening. I really didn't want to try out that happy juice Gertie had so thoughtfully supplied to them. I'm sure they were greatly distressed when the First Lady announced to security and to us simultaneously that she had invited Nicole and I to spend the night at Camp David. It was much too late to return to the city. We were shown to a comfortable room in one of the buildings scattered around the grounds. I hadn't been at Camp David before and it was dark, so I had no accurate sense of distance between the buildings or who was staying where. I think it was a compromise the First Lady had made with security that we were kept distant from all the other guests and the First Family. That was fine with me. It was the right time. I was going try to make the wheels fall off of Nicole, so to speak. Nicole opened the door to our cabin and entered in front of me. I thanked our guide/guard and closed and locked the door. I noticed a distressed looking housekeeping staff member hurrying in our direction as I closed the door. I heard the guard and housekeeping talking outside, then it was quiet. I pulled Nicole to me and kissed her. Urgently. Passionately. I think she knew. It was time. I had sent her that message over the link earlier this evening and kept repeating it. It was time. It was time. She bowed her head to let me undo her collar. Even in her excitement she remained a submissive. I could feel her trembling. "You may take me with my collar or without, Master. It makes no difference to me, wearing the collar. You are my Master. You will take me as my Master. Not because you want to, but because I want you to." She looked up at me, not defiantly, but with respect and love. It was a true statement from her. She wanted me to know. I found the magic button that kept her dress on and she was naked. She had not been able to wear even panties with that dress, it was so revealing. I took her standing the first time, her back to the wall. I discovered Nicole was very vocal and very loud when she came. She did so often that first time together, many times in French. I was glad we were so far away from the others. She screamed "Master, my Master" over and over, along with the usual incoherent noises, begging for it harder, deeper, now, now, now, damn it, NOW!!!! We eventually made it to the bed, but it took a while. There was the time in the chair, then once on the desk, twice on the sofa, and several times in front of the fireplace on the bearskin rug. It was a great rug. I was using Dr. Wang's gadgetry to stay hard for her. She was insatiable, as well, and delirious, and loudly and repeatedly grateful for each and every time I made her thunder inside. We collapsed face to face in a sated heap, but only after she had me take her from behind, spoon-fashion. It really was her favorite position, but there were several others that were close runners up. We tried as many of them as we could before slipping off to dreamland together. A quiet persistent knocking woke me. At first I wondered who would be getting us up this early. It was barely daylight. Then it occurred to me that it was a woodpecker outside the cabin window. I got up and shut it, and went back to sleep and thought nothing more of it. We were eating breakfast alone in the common area of the main lodge when the First Lady came in. Her open hostility towards me was missing this morning, but there was still an odd look from her in my direction. If I didn't know better, I would say it was one of awe or admiration. She neatly hustled Nicole off on a personal tour of the First Family's quarters. I figured I needed more coffee to get the ol' heart pumping and started to get up. "Sit down, Son, I'll get you a refill." I knew that voice. Every American knew that voice. I jumped up to attention as the President came over to the table carrying a couple of steaming mugs with him. I wasn't particularly standing because I respected him. I did respect the Office, and it was a Hell of a tough job, but, in my opinion, this President's policies had not proven to be the most prudent course for the nation. I was standing at attention because I wanted to make an easy target for security. Maybe they would only wound me if they had a body shot. I waited for the visceral sound of a bullet hitting my flesh. I had heard it before. It was not something you forget. "Relax, Son. I sent them away." "Uh, sure, Mr. President." Brilliant. He sat there toying with his mug for a while. "I don't know where to begin, Son, but the First Lady has given me my instructions. Best just to jump in, right?" Sure. When you're the President, I suppose whatever you want is best. I hadn't the foggiest notion what was going on. "That was some performance you gave last night, you and the Missus." This was getting weirder and weirder. "Uh, I'm not sure what you mean. Last night?" "Sure. In the cabin. You must have, er, pardon the crudeness, um, thrown the meat to your friend for, what? Two? Two and a half hours?" "Huh?" "Come on, Son. The entire camp heard you and her doing the nasty." "What? Was the room bugged?" The President suddenly realized I was totally clueless as to what he was talking about. Just then an aide hustled in quietly and gave him an update, whispering in his ear. Again that disconcerting look of awe at me before the aide left. "Oh, dear. Son, it seems we owe you and Miss Le Brech an apology. Apparently housekeeping was airing your room out for you and you arrived too soon. The windows of your cabin were wide open all night last night. The position of that cabin is such that your open windows were facing the entire populated part of the camp. Being down in the dell like it is, well, it's kind of like an amphitheater. Your voices carried clearly to the whole camp. We, uh, we thought you knew." The awful realization of what had happened hit me. My tender moments with Nicole were gossip fodder. It suddenly became very important to find her. The President seemed to anticipate my concern. He knew a lot about scandals "Son, not one word of this will leave here. It never has, yet. You may find yourself a national hero in France, though." He grinned at me as he relayed the humorous conversation he had had with the two Frenchmen as they had departed earlier that morning. They claimed more than partial credit on behalf of France for my performance, as Nicole had obviously inspired me to greater and greater heights of passion with her beauty. And she was French, after all... I shook my head. I couldn't believe it. "Uh, Son, I know this is a touchy subject. I'll admit I'm having a Hell of a time seeing your medical file, and I'm the fucking commander-in-chief. I know you worked for us for a while, but it seems your entire career and medical file is beyond even my security clearance. I didn't think that was possible. But, seriously son, can you tell me, is this something we did to you? To make you be able to last so long?" Suddenly it became clear. I started chuckling, then laughing outright. I fell on the floor. It didn't help my credibility with him at all, but by this time it was pretty well shot anyway. "You mean... Are you trying to tell me that the First Lady sent you to find out how I can keep it up so long?" I laughed from the floor. "Son! Keep your voice down. But, yes, that's exactly the reason I'm here." I calmed down. It took a while, but I climbed back into the chair I had fallen out of. "Can I ask you a personal question, sir?" He looked dubious. He nodded. "Does the First Lady get there every time?" "Get...? Oh. Well, Son, no, I guess not. No one does every time, do they?" He almost sounded wistful. "Would you like her to?" "Every time?" He sounded almost wistful. Maybe the guy was human after all. I nodded. "God, yes! I'd give my left nut for that!" "It won't cost you that. Let me tell you about a little private clinic I found. Does amazing things for couples. Men and women. I have a pretty good connection with them. I can set up a visit. Just name the date and time. I'll even pay for it." He looked at me suspiciously. "This place on the level?" "You can check with Dr. Schwartz. I think she is going to inspect the clinic herself. You know her?" I grinned when I thought of that meeting. Gertie would be squirming in her own juices as the President grilled her on the clinic. Especially if Gertie indulged in the procedure herself, which she would if I knew her. Scientific research, my ass. I wished I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation. He nodded. He'd check. "How come you'd pay for it. You don't like me or my politics. I checked you out." At least they'd gotten that right. I looked him straight in the eye. "Well, Mr. President, speaking as a taxpayer, if I can get you to spend more time with your lovely First Lady flat on her back, maybe you'll get off ours." He looked stunned, the burst out laughing. Nicole and the First Lady came back in just then. Nicole came over and sat down next to me. "Lawrence, the First Lady asked me if it was like last night with you every time we made love." She looked me, her blue eyes twinkling. "I told her it was like that every single time we did it. Wouldn't you agree?" I could see the disbelief on their faces change to incredulous belief as I solemnly agreed with Nicole. "Yes, dearest. It has been like that every single time." I didn't bother to tell them there had only been a single time. Didn't seem important, somehow... We finished our breakfasts in an awkward silence. I could tell they wanted to ask us more about our relationship, especially the First Lady. But it was too personal, too soon, and too public. It would have to wait for later. Or never, if I had my choice. We received a standing ovation from the Camp David staff as we walked to the waiting helicopter. The entire staff had assembled to see us off, together with the President and First Lady. They had all either heard our performance the night before or heard of it from those who had. This tribute to us was just their way of letting us know we had been special guests, who would be long remembered. It was an honor kind of thing with them. The staff of Camp David never leaked a word of what went on out there in the woods, ever. This was all they would ever say or do. The same marine corporal who had delivered us the night before greeted us as we strapped in our seats. I don't think he understood what was so funny that we were in hysterics all the way back to the airfield. It wasn't the normal response to an evening at Camp David. Nicole got her other wish, too. We had been invited back. Chapter 46 To say I had their undivided attention when I announced that a `Family Day' would be held the following day would be a bit of an understatement. Two of the four pairs of gorgeous eyes riveted on me were full of curiosity. Apparently, I had hit upon the one topic Sally and Janey had failed to discuss ad nausea with Nicole and Simone. The other two pairs of eyes, more familiar with these special days, had glints of excitement and glee twinkling in them. It had been about a week - eight days, exactly - since Nicole and I had returned from our trip to Washington, DC. While not entirely seamless, our family life since our return had been almost blissful, at least compared to the tension-riddled existence we had suffered before. It still brought me sorrow to think of all the pain and suffering my pride had caused those I loved. My girls never let me dwell on that time; in fact, they chided me for taking the blame for the trouble. And as for our family life, I now ate my meals with one proudly preening bare chested teenager sitting on my right, and another beautiful woman bound and kneeling by side. Yeah, sure, normal. Upon our return, there were some changes to our lifestyle that were necessary. After the expected homecoming intimacies were thoroughly and exhaustively completed, we, or more accurately, Sally realized we suddenly had one more person than we had chairs at the dining table. Prior to this time, Nicole, as the property of Sally, had always served the meals, thus freeing up a chair. With Nicole's status now changed to equal that of Sally, the whole paradigm had changed. Sally, in her usual adroit manner, impeccable timing and with her attention to detail, mentioned this to me on the first night of my return, timing her comments precisely at that point when Nicole was busy trying to swallow my rampant cock whole. "Master?" came the soft voice from above. She was sitting on my face, and I was delightfully busy. "Yes, Love?" My words were somewhat muffled as I was speaking into the juncture of two perfectly formed thighs. "How would you like the seating arrangements to be handled at breakfast?" Now, I don't know about you, but hearing that question while having your cock masterfully swallowed by a beautiful woman would be disconcerting to most men. Imagine how I felt, for the second time as I was rudely interrupted as I was, at the exact time Sally asked me that question, trying to swab her tonsils by sticking my tongue as far up her cunt as possible. Apparently this was something that was really bothering her. Now it was bothering me. She had skillfully dumped this domestic problem in my lap. My two imps suddenly found themselves rudely dumped onto the floor beside our bed. It was, however, no more rude than the timing of Sally's question, in my estimation. "Kneel!" My wonderfully naked nubile wenches scampered to the foot of the bed and assumed a submissive pose, kneeling, heads bowed, hands resting on their thighs palms up. There was no giggling, no sideward glances to one another. I caught a whiff of fear from Sally over our link. Good. I let them stew while I thought about the problem that she had presented me. Then I had a flash of inspiration. I hoped. Speaking to Sally, I gave her my instructions. They were simple, but the preparations would keep her up all night. I invited Nicole to re-join me in our bed and we let Sally quietly slip out to her tasks. The following morning I sensed a lot of tension in the kitchen. As I had specified, placed next to my chair was a cushion. Sally had used the middle section of the couch from the living room, but that would have to be changed. It was inevitable that there would be some spillage, and the fabric of the couch wouldn't stand up to the abuse it was bound to take. I tersely informed Sally of the inadequacy of the current arrangements, but that they would suffice for this morning. When she heard that it would be OK for this morning, she sighed in relief. Sally sat across from me, Janey on my left, Nicole on my right. Simone had not yet made her appearance, and I could tell that the other three women were very nervous about what would happen to Simone that morning. They could tell something was up, but not one of them had an idea of what it might be. Good. I was beginning to enjoy keeping them off balance. It happened so rarely with these minxes. There were too many of them and too smart for me. "Sen- Sensei?" came a timid voice from hallway. I grinned at the name she used for me. Janey had shared with Simone as well as Sally had with Nicole. "Yes, Simone?" "May I enter?" "But, of course!" I turned in my chair and caught my breath. Simone, as requested, was clad in Slave clothes. Sally had taken a set of Janey's Slave clothes and modified them to fit the younger girl. I had seen Simone naked before so her lovely assets were no surprise. However, in this charged environment and in that outfit, there was an almost overpowering allure to her natural beauty and youth. I stared at her in silence as she walked over to the cushion and knelt gracefully beside my chair. The fear, no, the panic in the young girl was palpable. This was understandable, given her recent trauma. I tried not take it too personally, though I found it becoming tiresome that I kept having to prove myself over and over. I had done this before with Janey, the careful nurturing back to a more even emotional balance, and now I was going to have to do it with Simone. Understand, I didn't begrudge the task, in fact, I actually enjoyed it. But I guess I just didn't fully comprehend how fragile these creatures were, how insecure in their own beauty and intelligence. And they say men's egos are fragile! Anyway, helping Simone was part of what this morning was about, although none of them knew that. Simone had set her plate of food beside mine when she knelt down. As I had requested, the food on her plate was cut into bite-sized pieces of foods she liked. She had chosen grapes and squares of cheese, with a mound of Ritzr crackers on the side. I smiled to myself. Perfect! Leaning over in my chair, I used the convenient straps on the back of Simone's skirt to fasten her wrists behind her back. A glare at Sally stifled any further protestations after her first instinctual "OH!" I made it clear over the link that I would not tolerate any interference this morning. Both Sally and Janey paled at my warning, and, I noted with interest, that Nicole seemed to have caught a bit of the warning, as well. Careful not to touch Simone, I let my link open up to her. I reached into her and took us to our beach. It was a struggle, at first, as she was full of terror and fought me, out of fear. The calming rhythm of the waves, the lonesome calling of the sea gulls and the endless beaches soon soothed her panic though, and she joined me there freely. We had a picnic on the beach, just Simone and me. I could sense her wonderment at the peacefulness we found there. We both knew we were not alone, as we could see the others at the table with us. Yet we had never been more alone in our special place as we were that morning. That first morning as we walked the beach, I let Simone ask any question she wanted of me, about the faces that made up the sands in my castle and the memories that went with them. As she wandered around my sandcastle, she would point to first one or the other and I would open up and allow her to see the memories I had of this one and that one. Some of my memories frightened her, as they did me, even now. In my more private life, I had experienced many moments of violence and the worst of human depravity, all carefully condoned by the government and the authorities. I still maintained a thick mental file of more than my share of personal terrors that often woke me up nights. As Simone began to see the patterns of my life, the lights and the darks, she would look up at me when she would see the darkened face of a former, usually dead, adversary. Then, with exceeding tenderness she would touch the sand around it with her long, slender fingers and somehow take some of the pain or terror associated with that memory from me. It was amazing, and a totally unexpected development. Simone, this little girl who had known so much pain and violence, this waif who still cried out in anguish and terror in her sleep, was drawing out the festering anguish I had been repressing and living with for years! On the surface, Simone and I simply sat and ate our breakfasts, I feeding Simone a bite now and again. Detached from what was going on between Simone and I, I watched first Janey, then Sally relax. They may not have known exactly what was happening, but they quickly figured out that Simone was not going to be punished or humiliated or any other such drivel. In fact, as I expected, there was more than a little jealousy on their parts. They realized that this time of intimacy between Simone and I was special, and they didn't really like it that she got to go first. Nicole, sensing their relaxation, also eased her worries for her daughter. I had instructed Sally that the rotation of the person on the cushion was to go Simone, Janey, Nicole, and then Sally. Every day, one of them was to be on the cushion. That person was also exempted from `Head Time' during the day, as well. That was another reason I had wanted to start with Simone. She had not quite adjusted to me as yet and I thought another day without having to face that particular task might help her adjust. That evening at dinner, Simone was not nearly as fearful as she had been earlier. In fact, she was eager to take her place at my side. To her surprise, and that of the others, I held a normal conversation with the other three women at the table. Every time Simone would try to take part in the conversations, I would lay a gentle finger on her lips, smile down at her, and shake my head. It was not done harshly, just in a manner that let her know that she was an observer and not a participant at this meal. Not a punishment, just a new situation for her. When Janey's turn came the next day, she eagerly knelt down at my side. I don't know what she was expecting, but it was obvious she had thought I had taken Simone down a path of sexual bliss the morning before. At least, that's where she seemed determined to go. I managed to focus her boundless energies on other, less prurient topics, much to her passing disappointment. As I had done with Simone, I opened up the link between us and let her know I would answer any questions she might have. When she found she had access to my past and all my memories, as I had let Simone have, she timidly looked around inside and then looked up at me in sadness and shook her head. Apparently Janey had fully accepted who I was in her life and didn't need the reassurances that Simone needed. We moved on. Realizing she did not have the same needs as Simone, I took us back to our own shared times together. I relived the now infamous wrestling match, letting her see the pride I felt at her perseverance and flat out guts. We re-visited the bike ride on the beach, the baseball game and the wild day we had then. She let me see how much she had enjoyed that day, and even though she had been terribly embarrassed at how she had dressed and behaved then, how much it had helped her get over her fear of men. We went over good times and touched on the bad times, too. She let me see a little of what she had felt that night with Steven. Not much, but a little. It was still raw underneath, but healing. That evening at dinner I did not have to remind Janey once to remain silent. She simply leaned her head on my leg and luxuriated in the sense of touching. She was literally purring and I was beginning to question whether I had misnamed her. `Kitty' might have been a more appropriate name for her than `Cricket', what with her present behavior. After I had fed her all the food on her plate, I kept my hand on the nape of her neck, stroking it lightly. Her purring intensified slowly and I wasn't paying that much attention to her. The conversation was particularly engrossing that night, with a much more relaxed Simone leading us on a hilarious journey through the peccadilloes of the French court of Louis XIV. The way she told it, it almost sounded as if she had first hand knowledge of the old lecher. It seems I wasn't the first man to have a small harem. The sudden blinding flash of Janey's orgasm that passed across the link surprised all of us, including Janey, I think. Nicole caught a sense of it as well, it was so powerful. I was about to reprimand Janey for touching herself without permission when I remembered that her hands were tied behind her. When she finally finished shaking and trembling, she slumped down on the cushion, exhausted. Alarmed, I was beside her in a flash. I didn't quite understand or appreciate the incongruity of Sally's helpless giggling at a time when I was panicked until I heard the soft snoring of a young girl, sound asleep. I hadn't checked the link, as she had. Sally knew Janey was OK, and was really enjoying the floorshow I was giving her, so full of concern. I gave Sally an un- amused, but wry glare as I carried the somnolent girl up to her own bed. Janey stayed asleep until the next morning, and even then, grinningly protested that she had not known it was coming, pun intended. Chapter 47 The next day Nicole was the honored guest at the table. Bluntly put, I was dreading this day. I had wracked my brain for a way to deal with her and her seeming inability to tap into her link. I had seen a few encouraging signs in the last few days, but it was nowhere strong enough for me to link up with her. I knew it wasn't. I had tried. Even attempting to hook up to her with my prick buried deep within her while she climaxed had only managed an imperceptible - to her - blip on the radar. Sally had just about jumped out of the bed at the pulse she felt when I tried that. Apparently Nicole's system, screwed up as it was, acted as an amplifier. Sally was wobbly for a couple of days trying to shake off the intensity of that aborted attempt. I discovered I was not the only one worried that morning. All of the women were tense. Even though they all knew nothing bad would happen to Nicole, the other three of them were aware that she could not `talk' to me as they did. Nicole was not stupid, either. She knew there was something special going on among the rest of us, and that she was the odd man out. I had no idea how devastating that was to her until that morning. All her life she had fought against being left out, excluded. We all do, to some extent, I suppose, but Nicole had never had the luxury of assuming the acceptance of her classmates or of her own age group. She had always been advanced in school, challenging and eclipsing those older than she. Inevitably, some of them had closed ranks against her socially so that she was isolated, both from those in her class and those of her own age group. When I reached out to her with my link and probed her mind as she knelt beside my chair, I literally jumped back as if I had been shocked by a bare electrical wire. My reaction was visible to the others, I was so stunned by what I had sensed in Nicole. She was a boiling cauldron of terror, panic, intelligence, determination and a force of Will I had never encountered in anyone before. All of this was stirred and twisted around her compelling and conflicting need to be submissive. I was amazed that her mind had not snapped with all the tumult she was feeling. I knew I was going to have to do something to calm her. I briefly consider a Spock "mind-meld" but that was hokey even on Star Trek. Besides, I had left my pointy ears in my other pants. The silence at the table told me the others were watching, and the increasing panic I sensed in Nicole told me my time was quickly running out. I heard and then focused on the tick-tock tick- tock of the wall clock, and it was suddenly clear. I reached out with my hand and touched her silky hair. I focused on the softness and beauty of each strand as I felt it. I then touched her ear, focusing on its delicate features and beauty, the smoothness of the skin and the tiny cilia that covered it. My fingers traced lightly over her temples, then down her cheeks to her jaw. By the time I reached her parted lips, reveling in their full softness, her trembling had lessened considerably. I helped her to focus on my touch as best I could, trying to relay to her in a very basic tactile way what I felt about each particular feature as I touched her. I don't know if she understood, but after a while, she had settled down enough so that I could proceed to the next phase. Taking my cue from the rhythm of the clock, I began a hypnotic pulsing of energy across the link. I was focused on Nicole, but as I glanced up around the table, I noticed by the glassy-eyed stares that there were at least two eavesdroppers. Sally's blush of embarrassment told me she wanted to know what was going on, too, but hadn't gotten caught by the hypnotic trance I had put Nicole into. The two youngsters were not so lucky and I was definitely not pleased. I sent a quick message to Sally over the link, a picture of what I wanted, and ended with an emphatic `NOW!' She grinned maliciously across the table at me and set to her task. I quickly re-focused my total attentions on Nicole. Now that Nicole was `at rest,' it was easier for me to link up to her. I resisted any urge to dig into her past or to leave post-hypnotic suggestions. It wouldn't have been right. I did initiate a conversation with her, kind of. It was basic and elemental, mostly images and ideas. The blackness of her terrors was constantly roiling beneath the calm surface, and I could sense the delicate and intricate balance she maintained. Again, I marveled at the raw strength in this woman. I must have let a bit more of that wonder slip through to her than I intended, as suddenly I felt a light begin to shine in her. It was as if she was responding to that pure adoration. I focused on that, sending reassuring messages to her, elemental, basic, even sexual at times. Her light grew stronger and stronger, as if it was craving, starving for emotional energy. I didn't realize how long we had been sitting there, just the two of us. When I came to my senses, it was close to lunchtime. Nicole's and my breakfasts were still in front of us untouched. Nicole was noticeably calmer now. We still could not link up, but I felt that tremendous strides had been made that morning. I slowly brought her out of her trance, coaxing and encouraging her to join me. We sat together quietly, peacefully as I fed her from her plate of morsels and ate my own cold breakfast. Then I went to attend to our two nosey daughters. Sally was standing watch outside the dungeon with an amused smile on her face. The two girls had been led, still in a hypnotic trance, down to the dungeon, stripped naked and bound. I never left anyone bound unwatched. Too many bad things could happen, and, deserving as they were of punishment for snooping, they did not deserve to have anything disastrous happen. My two young charges were bent over two of the padded trestles, their feet spread wide and bound fast, their hands tied outstretched horizontally in front of them, over their bowed heads. Four luscious, not quiet ripe tits hung deliciously below them, swaying slightly with each fearful breath they took. Their asses, breathtakingly taut, pointed up at a slight angle as if begging to be attended to. They had come out of their trance as soon as they had been bound in place. They had both seen the dungeon before but neither had ever experienced it quite like this, never as the `victim,' so to speak. They knew they were in deep shit, and neither was looking forward to my appearance. I stood outside the door holding Sally in my arms. It was rare anymore that we had a chance to just touch and we both relaxed into the familiar comfort of each other's body. As we stood there silently watching the nervous movements of the girls, I felt Nicole slip up behind me, pressing her near naked body into mine. She had followed me downstairs and seemed to sense the essence of the moment. Not wanting to be left out and not wanting to intrude, she rested her head on my back, quietly waiting for a sign of acceptance or rejection from me. I leaned back into her, letting her know she was welcome. Immediately, her slender hand slipped between Sally's body and mine. It found my semi-hard cock and stroked it lightly, bringing me to full hardness. With a deft move, I suddenly found myself encased in Sally's moist and receptive body. As Sally rhythmically squeezed and relaxed against my hardness, I slipped fully into her. When I was fully seated we continued to stand, gazing at their delightfully bound daughters. "They were there, in my head with us, weren't they?" Nicole murmured to me quietly. Shocked, but pleased that she had noticed their presence with her link, I nodded. "Is this their first punishment?" she asked further. Again I nodded. "Must I administer the punishments, Master?" I heard her ask timidly. Somehow, even though it would have been fitting, as it was her special time the two had intruded into, I didn't think it would be right. I paused for several seconds before I shook my head lightly. "Not their first time. I have to do this." I turned my head to look her in the eye. "Do you understand?" After a slight sigh of relief, she leaned forward with a mischievous grin and spoke to Sally. "You were right. He does like them young." Sally's sudden guffaw at her impertinent remark finally alerted the girls to our presence, and they tried desperately to look over their shoulders to see what was happening and who was there. The frantic twisting made their creamy buttocks churn in such a sexy manner, I was suddenly glad their mothers were both there. I wasn't sure I could have resisted the luscious temptations staring me in the face. Unplugging from Sally, quite reluctantly, I went over to the rack of equipment and selected a long leather belt. It was delicately soft and deceptively effective, quite appropriate for these two virgin asses, backs and their long slender thighs. I approached the two trembling teens from the side, my rampant cock pointing right at their panting, parted lips. It was almost too much. I shook myself and got down to the task at hand. "Tell me why you're here." The two teens glanced at each other. Janey answered. "We snooped." "Was that a nice thing to do?" Simone answered this one. "No, Sensei." "This punishment is not part of our special bondage relationship, Simone. This is a family matter and I will punish you as your father for going where you don't belong. Is that clear?" "Yes, Dad," and "Yes, Papa" came in unison from the two now even more terrified teens. There would be no pleasurable side to this punishment, not if it was being given by a parent. Almost immediately, the tears and wails one would expect to hear erupted from the two. Biting my tongue to keep from laughing, I quickly stepped behind the girls so they couldn't see me shaking with laughter. It was too precious. Not wanting to keep them howling without a good stimulus, I quickly laid four solid stripes on each of the proffered asses. There was a sudden moment of stunned silence, then Nicole, Sally and I were assaulted with a caterwauling of unprecedented intensity. I think they had actually expected not to feel any real pain. Surprise, surprise. I kept up the spanking until both their bottoms were a rosy shade of pink. I could almost feel the heat rising off of them. Still not wanting to trust myself with them helplessly tied and positioned so perfectly for fucking, I instructed Sally and Nicole to rub the soothing ointments into their inflamed flesh. I really wanted to do it myself, but realized I would probably regret it later if I did. Sighing with resignation or longing - I wasn't quite sure myself - I watched the two mothers tend to their chastised cubs, soothing and cooing to them, quieting their sobs, drying their tears. It was down right fucking domestic. When released, both naughty nymphs flew into my arms, begging my forgiveness, swearing it would never happen again, and please, never to spank them again. Had it not been for the link and the overwhelming sexual need I sensed in the two, I might have almost bought it. As it was, they were both rubbing their keyed-up tight little bodies against mine, both trying to climax while pretending to apologize. I guessed the acorns hadn't fallen too far from the trees, if that light spanking had aroused these two so easily. I would have to watch my step with them in the future. "I think you both need to apologize to Nicole. It was her time you intruded into. What do you think?" Reluctantly the two girls pulled away from me. Janey even sneaked a glance up at me and, when she saw my shit-eating grin, knew they had been caught out. Again. She paled until I winked my forgiveness at her, then she, too, fled to Nicole's side. Nicole let them both grovel for a respectable period of time before she was mollified, then sent them to their room. As they left, we barely contained our laughter as they scurried upstairs. In a very short time, Sally and I felt the first of a multitude of orgasmic spasms flood our link. The girls had apparently found an outlet with each other. Chapter 48 Still standing in the dungeon, Nicole glanced at Sally. They seemed to come to some sort of unspoken agreement, because as if one, the two were standing nude before me. "Master?" "Yes, Sally." "Uh, if you're not too tired, and since we're all here, and, well, would you do that to us, too?" "You would dare ask your Master for a punishment?" I asked her darkly. Quickly backtracking, she stuttered and stammered, "Uh, well, uh, no, uh, well, not exactly, M-m-master. We, uh, we weren't thinking quite of a p-p-punishment, sir." "Well, I was. It has been quite a while since I've enjoyed the feel of the lash against your hot asses, and, truth be told, those two girls of yours have got me hotter than I like. I think I would like to take it out on you two." I stared at them sternly. "Assume the position they were in." My ladies blanched at my words and my tone, but obediently bent over the trestles recently vacated by their daughters. I fastened their ankles wide apart. Before I bound their hands, I stood each one up in turn, kissed them deeply, and then gagged them. Sally's eyes grew wide and moist when I fastened her gag. Quickly I loosened it and held her close. "Too tight, lover?" I asked her. She shook her head. "Just too perfect, Master. You are too kind to me." Refastening her gag, I kissed her on her forehead, then bent her over and tied her hands out in front of her. I couldn't resist fondling those tremendous hanging globes, and Sally was soon squirming in her bonds, her juices dripping down her legs. Nicole had observed my preparation of Sally and tried to devour me when I kissed her. I pulled back from her with a questioning look. "Do not be gentle with me, Master. It is not necessary." That was all she said. I gagged her and tied her over the padded bar of the trestle. I mauled her breasts roughly and, when her moans of pleasure reassured me of her acceptance of the pain, I decided to add one more twisted piece of equipment to the afternoon's session. I went to the rack and got four shorter leather straps and two cords. The leather straps were fastened around the bases of the four lovely hanging tits and pulled tight. They were tight enough to prevent the outflow of a lot of the blood, causing the orbs to swell to an abnormal hardness. The grossly distended nipples looked almost inflamed. Clamps on the ends of the cords were attached to those sensitive buds, causing the moans from the two women to intensify greatly. The cords had been looped through rings in the floor, and by pulling one end of the cord and re-tying it, I could increase the downward pull of the nipple clamps until the swollen breasts were tightly and painfully drawn toward the floor. Any movement translated into intense pain for my two lovers. I picked the soft leather belt I had used on their daughters and stepped behind them. It was a sight to behold. Two alabaster asses, begging for the lash. I obliged. I had a lot of pent up emotions and feelings, and I took it out on those luscious moons. I don't know how long I lashed, first one, then the other, back and forth, back and forth. I sensed Sally cum first, then Nicole, then they came together, as if they were synchronizing their orgasms. I released the clamps on their nipples, and they screamed in blissful agony into the gags. The soft leather belt bit into their chests soon after, giving them little respite from the pain. They were not hard blows, but the swollen tissues were extremely sensitive. I sensed the pending explosions building in them both and quickly moved behind them. Using one hand on each glorious butt, I swatted them hard until they came together once more, a thunderous climax of pain and pleasure. Not finished with them yet, I stepped behind Nicole. I moistened my pillar of stone in her flowing juices then placed the tip at her clenched rosebud. I had never taken her this way, and, although she had seen me take Sally anally, she had never encouraged me to take her this way. I felt her tense at the first touch. Then, with a heart-wrenching sob, she pushed herself back as best she could. I didn't understand, but I didn't sense any fear or terror from her, either. Slowly, I pushed forward, entering the hot cavern of her rectum. It was obvious she was tight and I was almost too big. She slumped as the waves of pain consumed her. I started to pull out, but she clamped down hard on my cock. It must have been intensely painful for her, but I held still. Slowly she tried to thrust herself back towards me, urging me into her a little at a time. I thought she was going to hurt herself, but she kept urging herself back on my rigid cock. When I hit bottom, I felt as if I had died and gone to heaven, if heaven is ass-fucking. I mean, Sally's ass is wonderful, and, well, I have to be real careful here, but this first time with Nicole was every bit as wonderful as that first time in Sally's ass. Just no bathing suit. As I felt her acceptance of me, I slowly pulled out of that clasping hole, then just as slowly drilled back into the murky depths. Nicole had relaxed by then and the initial pain of my impalement was subsiding. Make no mistake, I was big, her asshole was small. It hurt her. I knew it, and her acceptance of this act was a special gift to me. I knew, and I think she did too, that this would only be the first of many anal delights we would enact together. Each would hurt her, just as they hurt Sally, but I knew she would soon eagerly seek to please me in this way. As she relaxed I increased the speed of my strokes into that clutching orifice. With all of the prior stimulus with the teens, I figured I wouldn't last long, and I didn't. I lay gasping, sprawled over her sweaty striped back, having spent myself deep within her bowels. I could still feel her trembling from the post- coital orgasms coursing through her. I tenderly caressed her hanging tits, tweaking her nipples to coax a final spasm or two from her exhausted body. Thanks to the miracle devices of Dr. Wang, I was as hard when I pulled out as I had been when I first plundered her ass. As much as I would have loved to stay there and let it marinate in her steamy heat, I had one more ass to poke. Sally, knowing what was coming, was open and relaxed as I presented the tip of my shit-soiled cock to her anus. With a lunge, I sank in balls deep on the first stroke. Only it wasn't into her ass. With a slight shift at the last moment, I buried myself into her steaming cunt. I could hear her moan of disappointment and ecstasy even through the gag. The enhancer from those tiny devices embedded in her kicked in and Sally drifted off on a sexual odyssey, sending out her joy and love to me over her link. I plowed on into her until I deposited a load in her as well. All in all, not a bad half-day's work. Chapter 49 We stayed in the dungeon for the better part of the afternoon. Sally was a bit jealous of the attention I was paying Nicole's ass. I took her there three more times until she was too sore to sit. Sally got some of my attention, too, but I used my time with her to try out some of the stranger pieces of equipment arranged around our special playroom. After I released her, I would slowly caress and touch her, seducing her to place her wrist or ankle or neck or whatever into the appropriate position. Then I would gently fasten the convenient strap or cuff or lock. It was a long drawn out process and it excited her to be taken so teasingly. When she was totally immobilized and I had tortured and teased her to a hyper-horny pitch of arousal, I would return to Nicole, still bent over in front on the tressel and take my pleasure with her `sister,' as they had begun referring to each other. Sally was nearly crazed with desire when I finally took her. She was hanging by her ankles, upside down, her head just inches off the floor. I pointed my tireless weapon down into her gaping cunt and fucked her brains out. Later she said what I had done to her was inhumane and cruel and when could we do it again? We cleaned up for dinner and were sitting, waiting patiently for the girls to come down for dinner. About 15 minutes after they had been called, the two drifted in. I immediately smelled the results of their own afternoon's sexual activities. As they sat down, I noticed their hair was mussed, even to having strands stuck together with an unspecified bodily fluid or two. There were also other signs of arousal evident in their appearance: swollen nipples, puffy lips and a general overall glowing blush. I sniffed loudly, obviously displeased. Janey tossed me a defiant glance, unusual for her, but it was an attitude I couldn't allow to pass unchallenged. "Girls, you're late and you smell like delinquent teenagers after a hot date." Janey got that look in her eyes. She was determined to win this one. I turned to Simone. If I could break the team up, I figured Janey wouldn't be so sure she could win this one. "Simone, did you enjoy the punishment you received from me this morning?" "No, Papa. It was not enjoyable." "Well, although we do have a somewhat unusual lifestyle in our home, and, while I am pleased that you two are getting along so well now, I insist that you keep your activities to yourselves, private. I expect you to remove all the traces of your activities that you can before you mingle with the rest of the household or anyone else who happens to be in our house. It is not polite, it is not acceptable, and that type of behavior will be punished. Severely" Simone had paled at this speech I delivered at her. "Is that understood?" I was almost bellowing now. "Y-y-yes, Papa!" "Good. You have 5 minutes to clean up and get back here. For every minute longer, you will receive 10 lashes. Now, MOVE!" Like a shot, Simone was gone from her chair and headed for the shower in their room. Janey didn't move. I calmly placed my watch on the table and started the timer. At 30 seconds she began to fidget. At 45 seconds I looked at her questioningly. We all heard the shower start in their room. At 1 minute, I said, "I will not be giving you the next punishment, Janey. In fact, I won't even be there to observe you getting it." The implication of that took a second to sink in, and then she paled. The memory of her mother beating on Nicole must have flashed through her mind, and she wasn't ready to go through that. She bolted for the bedroom. Sally was pale, paralyzed at the end of the table. "Master, I cannot punish my daughter. Please, I cannot do that. I never have raised a hand against her and, well, I-I..." Sally tailed off, tears running down her cheeks as she gazed softly at Nicole. The memory was still fresh in her mind, too. "I will not ask you to..." Sally sagged visibly, but Nicole, still silent, grunted in protest. It was the only noise she dared to make in her position of honored guest. ..., you will punish Simone, and Nicole will punish Janey. You will both be present for the punishments, to make sure everything is within acceptable limits. If you don't like to do give punishments, then make sure your daughters don't ever want to go through it again after this one. That is the point of the whole thing anyway, isn't it?" God, I loved to surprise them. There was no protest they could make. It was right, just and fair. And they hated it. We sat in silence. The water shut off, and I heard panicked squeals as the girls looked for some appropriate clean clothing to wear. Time was passing quickly and by the time Simone arrived, breathless and flushed, she was 3 minutes overdue. She saw the clock and cried out. Thirty lashes! Janey, trying to save time, hadn't dried off as well as Simone, but with her later start, was lagging far behind the younger girl. She had chosen to wear one of her Slave outfits, one with a vest. The front panels of the vest had clung to her damp skin and were folded back, exposing her entire chest. She, too, was huffing and puffing as she slipped into her seat at 9 minutes, 30 seconds. There would be 45 lashes for her and she looked at her mother in terror. The silence continued as I looked at the two girls, no one else daring to speak. Janey's hair was wet and slicked back, as was Simone's. The water that seeped onto Janey's shoulders had no clothe the absorb it. As I glared in mock anger at the two delinquents, I was distracted by a drop of water that slowly ran down from Janey's neck, down the upper slope of her left breast and, as luck would have it, formed drop that hung off the tip of her erect nipple. Trembling with every beat of her heart, threatening to fall at any moment. Tantalizing. As I watched that sensuous drop run its course, my expression must have changed. My gaze was suddenly transfixed on that delicate drop, and it just continued to hang there, as did my stare. With a grace that belied the pain she must have been feeling in her ass, Nicole leaned forward and touched the tip of her tongue to that hanging droplet. Turning, her eyes laughing at me, her tongue still extended, she offered her mouth to mine. I swear, I could taste Janey on that drop mingled in her kiss and it nearly broke my resolve. I suddenly wanted to have sex with that young girl more than ever before. I looked into Nicole's mocking eyes. Technically, she had not broken the speaking rule, but, in my eyes, she had broken the spirit of the arrangement. I took her jaw firmly in my hand and held her so we were face to face. "Ah, mon Cheri. I thank you for the kiss, but now is not the time. As much as I thank you, I feel I must remind you later of your place." Her eyes glittered in anticipation. We both understood how much she enjoyed the pain, and that she had just earned a special session, to be arranged later. I released her jaw and as she relaxed back onto the cushion, she sat down a little harder than she intended. She cried out in pain. "Mama! What is the matter!" Nicole, recovering quickly, just shook her head. "Mama! Tell me, what is wrong? You are in pain!" Simone was now at her mother's side. For the first time, she noticed the marks left by the straps that had bound her breasts, and the faint, but definite marks left by the belt on the parts of her back and stomach that were exposed. Simone glared up at me and started to tense, as if to attack me. "Ssshhh! Hush, my child. It is nothing." "But you are in pain!" "Yes. And it is a wonderful pain. My Master was most energetic this afternoon as he took me for the first time in the manner of the Greeks. He, no, we both enjoyed his taking of me, my daughter. He may not know this, but today he made me his, as he took me for himself. One day, perhaps, you will understand. Do not be angry with my Master. It is his right." Nicole looked up at me, looking for my response to her breaking her silence. As I had established with Sally, their daughters' safety and well being always came first, regardless. I nodded my forgiveness to her, and touched my fingers to her lips with a soft smile. I think she was almost disappointed I didn't tack on any additional black marks. After that, dinner was anticlimactic. We tried a couple of times to banter about this or that, but the four of them were all preoccupied with the punishments that would happen after dinner. Without a word, the table was cleared and the dishes done. Then, as if a signal had been given, the four of them disappeared down the stairs. It seemed forever before the subdued teens presented themselves to me as I sat waiting in my office. Their eyes were still puffy and red, but the sniffles and tears had stopped. Both girls dropped on their knees, one on each side of my chair. I noticed their mothers standing outside the door and I signaled them into the room with us. Heads bowed, the girls waited for me to speak. I didn't. Finally, Simone broke. "P-p-papa?" I turned slightly to her. "Yes?" "Please. Forgive me for being inconsiderate of my family members." "Have you learned your lesson?" "Yes, Papa. And, Papa?" "Yes?" "I did not enjoy being punished by Sally. But it was better than Mama. Thank you." "I forgive you." I thought a while. "Simone?" "Yes, Papa?" "Show me your bottom." Turning around and bending over with her head to the floor, she showed me her ass by flipping up her short skirt. She was not wearing panties. There was not a mark on it. "I don't think it could have been that bad, Simone. There isn't a mark on your bottom." "Oh. Sally didn't punish me there. We discussed it, and our bottoms you love so much are reserved for you when you punish us." "Oh, are they now? Well, thank you, I think. If she didn't punish you there, where did she do it? Slowly Simone raised up and shrugged off her Slave vest. Her back was covered with a series of deep red stripes, from the base of her neck to the small of her back. It looked like she had lain for a long time on a cheap lawn chair. I looked up in shock at Sally. Nicole reached over and took Sally's hand in a sign of solidarity. Well, I had told them to make the girls not want to go through it again. Janey was still kneeling and, from her occasional snuffles, I feared she was going to rebel against my authority. I waited patiently, but with growing anxiety. Suddenly, the dam broke. She launched herself at me, burying her head in my lap. "Oh, Daddy! I'm so, so sorry. It was all my fault. I kept Simmie tied down upstairs so she couldn't clean up. She wanted to and was getting frantic. I kept teasing her and, and , well, doing things to her to make her stinky and she didn't seem to really mind after a while. I was so mad at you. I don't know why, but, but, well, I'm sorry. So sorry." With that, she dissolved in a torrent of tears, throwing her arms tightly around my waist. I let her cry for a while, heart-wrenching sobs, stroking her soft hair lightly. As her sobs lessened, I loosened her grip on me. I urged her to turn around, which she did awkwardly, still on her knees. "Show me." She shrugged off her vest, baring her back. I was a little surprised she didn't flip up her short skirt and show me her bare butt, but I guess she was being very serious. I cringed as I saw the number of deep red stripes that marred her normally flawless back. There were no breaks in the skin, but a few had welted and looked angry. I threw another angry look, this time at Nicole. Once again, Sally moved slightly to protect her `sister.' I couldn't fight both of them, and, in spite of the visible wounds, they were within their limits that I had set for them. I still didn't like it. I put a hand each on the teens' necks, well above the punished area. "I forgive you both. I expect both of you to behave as young ladies from now on. Respect each other, respect your mothers, and respect others. That's all I ask. Agreed?" "Yes, Dad." "Yes, Papa." "Now. Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning." It was still early, but I had things to deal with. Namely, their mothers. Again I was surprised as they scampered off, still topless, without a protest. Silence filled my office like a heavy fog. Chapter 50 I looked up at the two women standing in my office. They were close together, holding hands, ready to take whatever I was going to decide. "Come here." As one, they came around my desk, separating at the last minute so that one was kneeling on each side of me. Gently, I reached down to each one and assisted them to sit on my lap, one on each leg. As they settled in, somewhat gingerly and unsure of what to expect, I broke down and cried. I cried for the pain the two girls had gone through. I cried for the pain I had made their mothers inflict on them. My gentle lovers had been forced to enforce my cruel discipline. It had been the right thing to do, but it still hurt. As they felt the sorrow and remorse I was feeling, they, too, began to cry, helping me to grieve. We sat together, holding one another, supporting one another, loving one another. A fucking Kodak moment, if there ever was one. Finally, our tears and sobs lessened and stopped. Kleenex appeared and, to a chorus of honking that would have made a flock of geese proud, we cleaned ourselves up. I sat, one hand cupping one tit of Sally, the other hand cupping the tit of Nicole. They were still a little nervous at my anger and my unpredictability right at that moment, especially with all that had gone on that day. I toyed with their nipples, squeezing and fondling the pliant globes until their breathing became more shallow and rapid. Sally was squirming on my thigh and Nicole rested her head on my shoulder. Neither had touched my hardness, waiting for my permission. I decided not to give it. I urged them up and, rising, we went to our bedroom. There, I stripped them both and positioned them on the bed in an obvious manner. Then, I went over to the chair, pulled it up to the side of the bed and sat in it. Sally and Nicole lay there like frozen slabs of beef, neither moving. "Master?" "What!" I was not in the mood to tolerate any nonsense from them and the tone of my voice said as much. "What do you want us to do?" "What does it look like? You're face is in Nicole's cunt, her face is in yours. You figure it out." "But..." "Have you ever done it with a woman before?" I knew she had. I had pictures. Sally nodded. "Nicole?" I wasn't sure about her, but Europeans are much more liberal, in general about the homosexual thing. She nodded, as well. "And?" "We've never done each other, Master." "You don't want to?" "No... Yes. OH!" Sally was frustrated and frightened. "Master, are you angry with us?" I thought for a while about that one. No, I wasn't angry with them. I was disappointed in myself. But I was not angry with them. "No." "Thank you, Master." With that, both dove into the juicy morsels staring them in the face. Soon, they were writhing and moaning, totally ignoring my presence, yet still giving me a show that most men would only be able to fantasize about. It was an honest show, too, as I could tell from the building orgasms I could sense over the link. So engrossed was I in the show that I didn't realize that there were suddenly two more lithe bodies sitting with me, again one on each knee. Both the girls were totally nude and, as I began to protest, I felt two tiny hands pull open my robe and grasp my throbbing cock in unison. The other two hands each held a finger to my lips, silencing me. "Please, Sensei. Let us help you," came the soft voice whispered into my ear. So I sat there in that over-stuffed chair, watching two beautiful women make Sapphic love to each other while two naked teenagers softly and expertly stoked my rampant rod, teasing me to a hardness and desire I didn't know I could achieve. Slowly their hands moved up and down, in unison, each stroke causing their firm young tits to press into my arms. I vaguely wondered where they had gotten the experience to do this so well, but quickly realized that I didn't want to know. I kept a firm grip on the arms of the chair, although I didn't feel nearly as tempted to fuck them now as I had earlier in the day. Somehow, this was different. As my stiffness thickened and my heart rate increased, Janey bent her head and put her mouth over the tip of my cock. Like the frog that got a kiss from the fairy- tale princess, it magically turned into a fountain, showering the inside of her mouth with cream. I watched in a dream as Simone tapped her `sister' on the shoulder and replaced Janey's mouth with her own, catching my spunk as it shot out of me. My own fountain of youth, so to speak. The two on the bed kept on with their activities, apparently insatiable now that they had started on each other. I had to admit they looked good together, particularly like this. It calmed me to watch their erotic show in a perverse way. There was no jealousy, no insecurity in their actions. They truly loved each other it seemed and enjoyed showing each other exactly how much. The two girls sat with me a while longer, lightly touching me. I was surprised at Simone's boldness and participation in what they had done, but it didn't surprise me when they leaned over the top of me and kissed each other. Watching their mothers make love was an erotic stimulus that these two couldn't resist. Shortly thereafter, I felt them give me kisses goodnight on the top of my head, then slip off to their own room. I didn't think there would be much actual sleeping that night in either room When I woke with a start, I was still sitting in the chair. Sally and Nicole were wrapped in a tight embrace, spoon fashion now, but sound asleep. Nicole was in front, and I carefully slipped in behind Sally, slipping my revived member easily between her thighs as I snuggled up tight against her butt. There was more than enough lubrication. "Oh, Master. Please, not there. It is too sore," came a mumbled half-asleep protest. I guess I had poked into Nicole's sore bottom on the other side. I shifted my aim slightly and felt the familiar tightness of Sally's cunt grip my shaft. Her low moan of sexual gratification thrilled me to my core. I placed my arm over hers, flexed once or twice and went back to sleep. It had been a hell of a day. Chapter 51 The next day was Sally's first turn as the honored guest at the meals. Her turn was not nearly as traumatic as had been Nicole's the day before, and for that I was thankful. I don't think I could have taken many more days like that one. All that sex and violence... Not surprisingly, we got a later start than usual that morning, and even for us there was a bit more open affection shown. More touching, more shy smiles, more open, blatant groping. Not by me, but OF me! I would have felt cheap and used if I didn't enjoy it so much. When the two girls came in, freshly scrubbed and lovely as ever my lovers didn't let up. It seemed I had turned them loose and they were out to keep me as aroused as possible as much of the time as possible. Anything was fair game, including using the nubile bodies of their daughters to tease and taunt me. It was a perverted variation of the "Look, but don't touch" policy that only my beloved Sally, with her wonderfully twisted mind, could have thought up. I swore I would make it up to her later... When I was tired of all the affection. Maybe then. Or not... Their mischievous plan became evident when Nicole stood up from her place at the table, moved behind Simone and folded back her vest on the left side, fully baring her ripening teenage breast. Her nipple wasn't erect, but it didn't stay long in that relaxed state. From her position behind Simone, Nicole bent and whispered into her ear. At first, Simone shook her head in silent protest, but then, blushing deeply, the three of us watched in fascination as her hand stole slowly upwards to cup and caress her own young breast. Her eyes tightly closed, she touched herself gently to arousal. With the teen's nipple fully engorged, Nicole then took a glass of ice water from the table, and, with Sally, Janey and I watching intently, poured a tiny dollop of water onto the upper slope of that youthful mound. Simone was not the only one around the table to gasp. As if by design, that lucky drop rolled slowly down the now heaving flesh of the gasping girl and, as had the one the day before, clung tantalizingly trembling on the tip of the turgid nipple. Sally, with a clearly defiant grin back at me, took Nicole up on her unspoken dare. She broke the rules exactly as Nicole had the day before, leaning forward and seductively capturing the droplet on her own tongue, all without touching the girl's nipple. She then transferred the savory nectar to my mouth. I kissed her deeply in return. At the end of Sally's kiss, when she was re-seated, Simone started to pull her vest back in place covering up her chest. I stopped her. "No, leave it. I think I like it that way." She blushed even more furiously, but obediently left her breast bared to my gaze. As I had with the other three at the breakfast meal, I turned the focus of my attentions to Sally. As we melted comfortably into our time together, the others forgotten, I let her know over our link how pleased I was with how well our `family' was coming together. I let her know I knew it was her doing, that the easy way we coexisted was due primarily to her skill at keeping the peace. I didn't know you could blush over the link, but she did. She was not used to such honest praise. I don't recall what or where we went together after that, but it was a joy just to be with her. The other three women carefully minded their own business, not wanting to repeat yesterday's activities, and all three were very prompt when it came for their turn for Head time. Simone didn't hesitate to participate when her turn at Head time came and she even seemed to enjoy it, relish it. I questioned her carefully beforehand, making sure she knew she didn't have to do it, but she just pecked me on the cheek before engulfing the head of my cock as if to say "Oh, Papa, I'm not a little girl anymore..." God help me. That night, Janey was sitting on my right, Nicole across from me and Simone was seated on my left. As she had with Simone, Nicole moved behind Janey after we were all settled. Whether it was planned or not, Janey had a short T-shirt on. Nicole reached down, grabbed the lower hem and slowly pulled the abbreviated shirt up and then completely over Janey's head. The lovely teen was naked from the waist up, her breasts clearly visible above the table. And she was grinning like the cat that had just caught the canary. Yup, a smiling pussy. You've got to love them... There is something particularly fascinating to men about watching a female disrobe or be disrobed, voluntarily or otherwise, and I am no exception. My breath caught in my throat as Janey's charms were gradually bared to me, and, even though I had seen her naked breasts before, I was struck once more by the wonderment of their glorious beauty. It wasn't just Janey's body that did that to me, although hers is particularly spectacular. It was that simple sexy act of uncovering that made it special. I felt Sally lean into me at my side as she let me know it was OK to appreciate her daughter's beauty. My hand was tangled in her hair and I had no doubt she was reading my raw feelings over our link through that close physical connection. Instead of water, tonight Nicole had a glass of red wine in her hand. Deftly she poured a small dribble on Janey's chest. Sally moved forward smoothly and caught the small amount of wine as it ran down and dripped off Janey's teat. Sally seemed to take longer tonight to collect the wine, as Nicole kept a steady rain of droplets falling from her nipple. Janey was a little short of breath by the time Sally finally transferred the wine to my mouth. It was an excellent vintage, even with the unusual decanting. I expected Janey to put her shirt back on, but she didn't. In fact, apparently I had opened the door for the two girls to openly exhibit their lovely assets at the table during mealtimes. It was really going to put a crimp in eating in restaurants as a family... During dinner Janey did an inordinate amount of reaching and stretching, smooshing her breasts together with her upper arms when she laughed and, believe it or not, giggling. She also bounced up and down in her seat excitedly at any little comment. She must have practiced in a mirror all afternoon! Or maybe it was just natural. For my part, I sat back and enjoyed the show. Sally was peaceful by my side, Nicole was confident in her role and Simone was egging Janey on to more and more exhibitionism with her witty stories. It was great. That's pretty much how our `family life' went for the next week or so. Perfectly normal, right? Well, there was that one incident a couple of days later... I was working in the garage, doing something manly. Hell, who am I kidding? I was just trying to escape for a minute or two and catch my breath. Those two women were trying to fuck me to death, I swear. I figured something greasy, dirty and oily with a lot of banging - tools - might keep them at bay, so I was hiding in the garage, straightening my workbench or something. I heard footsteps coming, but I didn't recognize the sounds until... "Master?" I didn't turn around immediately. I wish later I had, but I really did have my hands full of something. "Yes, Nicole?" "Uh, Master, I wanted to ask you if this would be appropriate for some of my Slave clothing. It was something I had from..., well, from before, but I thought it might be OK. Sally said to ask you first. So, is this OK?" I turned and looked at her. And dropped the fucking tools I was carrying on my foot, but I didn't notice. My total focus was on the vision standing before me. Like I said, I wish I had turned earlier. I missed several precious seconds of looking at her that I will always regret. She was that lovely. Nicole was wearing, barely, a corset. But not just any corset. Black patent leather, shiny, gleaming, it set off her coloring magnificently. Her waist must have been tightened down about two to three inches at least, but it may have been an illusion. It was tight anyway, and her tits were forced up and over the demi-cups, visible and available, as if offered on a plate. She had a small wispy pair of thong underwear, also black. The body of the corset did not cover her private areas at all. She was wearing long stockings that clung to her thighs and she was teetering on immensely high heels. It was hot, it was erotic, and I wanted her. Bad. Now. "Turn." She pirouetted slowly, stopping when she faced me again. "Face away from me." She complied. "Oh, God!" We stood in silence for a while. I contemplated her ass. The black leather corset framed and set it off perfectly. I felt myself want to ravage her. "Lose the panties." She yanked on them and they came away in her hand. It didn't strike me until later how easily they had come off. With my two women, I should have known by now, but this whole thing had been planned. "Can you bend over?" "Yes, Master." "Come over here and lean on the tool bench." She started to come over to me. "Wait. First walk over to the far post." I held my breath as I watched her move sensuously across the garage. It was almost too much. "Now come over here." Again she paraded over to me, the seductive smile on her face told me she knew the effect she was having on me. "Lean over the bench." She placed her hands on the bench and leaned into it. Using my hands, I gently moved her feet backwards away from the bench, and then spread her legs wider apart. I took my time doing this and felt up and down her nylon-clad legs several times, breathing in her sexual fragrances. It was heady stuff. With her feet so far back, her balance was precarious, but I had no intention of letting her fall. I stepped up behind her and unzipped my pants. I thrust into her dripping cunt in one easy motion and then stopped. Supporting her with my cock, I took hold of her hands and placed them over the cheeks of her ass. "Spread them for me, Nicole." Resting her lovely head on the filthy workbench, she sighed deeply as she complied. Having lubed myself with her own juices, I pulled out of her and began inserting my fat cock into her tight rear passage. "Oh, Master! Yes! Take me. Make me your slave." It was a long, slow and delicious ass fuck. I held myself back until her legs were shaking in exhaustion. Then I pulled her back away from the bench. "Grab your ankles, Nicole" She did, having little other choice. The high heels, whether by accident or intent (I now suspect the latter), placed her ass at just the right height for me the plow solidly into her. The added angle when she grabbed her ankles increased the pressure she was feeling in her gut and she began squealing with every thrust I made. Firmly holding onto her flaring hips, I began pounding and pounding relentlessly into her luscious ass. Finally I spent and we stood there huffing and puffing in the cool dusty air of the garage, now redolent with the added fragrance of sex. Reluctantly I pulled out of her and helped her to stand up. Embracing her, I held her tightly to me until our hearts had returned to a normal rate. "So. Is it OK, Master?" she asked timidly. I kissed her gently, feeling myself stir to life again. "Yes. It is `OK'. But I should warn you. I will take you like this every time you wear this particular corset. It... it is special, fantastic. You are fantastic." She grinned impishly up at me. "Oh, good." I looked at her questioningly. "Sally's bathing suit bottoms, the ones you love for her to wear, well, they don't fit me the same way. You didn't even notice I was wearing them," she answered innocently. "We had to find something I could wear so you would Greek me, too. We know how much you like it that way." Then, with a light kiss on my cheek as if nothing special had happened, she glided back out of the garage, leaving my raging pecker waving in the wind. I had just been had. Big time. Chapter 52 Anyway, to go back a couple of chapters, that's how I had known, when I announced the next Family Day, that it had been exactly eight days since Nicole and I had returned from Washington, DC. I knew because Sally was kneeling on my right, completing the second full rotation of the women. Do the math! (Four women, two turns each, come on, you can do it...) My hand was resting on the back of Sally's neck and I felt her sense of calm suddenly shattered by the thought of another Family Day. Janey was the bare-chested daughter at this meal, her usual preening and posing forgotten in her sudden excitement. It had only been a week or so, but I knew I would never quite get used to the view of her charms - nor those of Simone - gracing the dining table. But I suppose that into each of our lives a little hardship must fall. If this was a burden I was to bear, well, I suppose I could put up with it. Almost as suddenly as I felt Sally's tension at the anticipation of the events of the Family Day, I felt her overcome with a sense of dread, a sense of isolation. I don't know how she knew what I had planned, but somehow she knew it was to be a special day for Nicole and Simone. Sally had never exhibited the ability to pry into my mind like Simone could. I guess it was just woman's intuition. It was just as obvious, when I thought about it, that Sally had not dug into my thoughts. If she had, she would have known what I had planned for her that next day. To ease her mind, and, surprisingly, Janey's sudden anxious thoughts, I continued, "Tomorrow's Family Day will be for all of us. I have planned something special for each one of you. And now, if you will excuse me, I have a busy day ahead." With that, grinning secretively, I went into my office to finish the preparations for the next day. To be honest, what I had planned for Sally was what concerned me the most. I could only hope she would accept it. Before, when I had announced a Family Day, I had had only two women trying to find out what was going on. Now I had four, and it was nearly unbearable. Sally wore her bikini bottoms and Nicole her corset, each with the predictable results. But no information. Simone and Janey both spent an extra shift at Head Time, trying to listen in on my telephone calls or perhaps bribe me with their services. I explained to them that it wouldn't work, but they both did it anyway. Janey did it because she still thought she could change my mind, but Simone did it because I think she was beginning to like the feel of my cock in her mouth. Maybe too much. I would have to have a talk with Nicole and Sally about her. She was growing up, and fast. The next morning came and with it came the usual packages for Nicole, Simone and Janey, laid out on their beds when they awoke. There was no package for Sally, but I sent a reassuring message across the link to her. I also ordered her to prepare a light breakfast for the rest of us, but not for her. I also clearly specified in my message - Hell, I ordered her firmly - that she was to remain naked and barefoot while doing it and to wear her slave collar. I hadn't ordered her around much and it sparked just the right amount of fear and anticipation in her. I could tell she was moistening up already, the unknown a large factor in her excitement. Simone and Nicole came into my office for inspection. Both had outfits similar to what Sally and Janey had worn on that first Family day, but without the baseball caps or the baseball gloves. Their shorts were way too short, as were the T-shirts. Simone had an amused smile on her face, almost enjoying the cock-teasing attire. Nicole, on the other hand, was horrified. "Lawrence, you cannot expect me to wear this in public. What will people think?" I gazed at her in silence for a while, a small question on my face, letting her think about what she had just said. As the silence grew longer, it suddenly dawned on her that it didn't matter what other people thought. It only mattered what I, her Master, thought. I could tell by the blanched color of her face the second she realized what she had done. "Come over here, Nicole," I said quietly. She came to stand a few inches from my knee. They had all learned not to hesitate to come when I asked. I picked up a pair of scissors from my desk and deliberately and carefully cut off another healthy strip from the bottom of her T-shirt. When I was done, she could not move without exposing her nipples. "There! I think that should about do it. That is, unless you have anything else you'd like to say?" Her face had changed from ashen to flaming red, but she said nothing. Simone piped up, "Papa, I don't think I could bear to wear this either!" I looked at her in amused silence as she strode over to my other side, her chest proudly thrust out, her hardened nipples visible through the thin cloth. Somehow, I didn't think she was nearly as embarrassed as her mother. In fact, if the sense of laughter and joy coming over the link was any indication, she was thoroughly looking forward to vamping it up today. Janey must have talked with her. Regardless of her motivation, I solemnly and carefully trimmed a little of the scarce fabric from the bottom of her shirt as well. Then I swatted her on her cute little bottom, sending her squealing back to her mother's side, her lovely tits flashing in and out of view the entire way. "Today you both will act in a provocative manner. It is what I wish." "Janey said that they got to act like real sluts. Is that what you want?" Simone asked. "Close, but not quite. Don't proposition any men. Or women. And don't get me arrested for pimping, OK?" That brought a smile of relief from Nicole, who, I finally realized, was actually concerned about how far she was to go. That she had actually been ready to prostitute herself for me if I wished it unnerved me somehow, almost making me rethink the activities of the day. Almost. I sent them scampering and flouncing into the kitchen for their breakfasts. I went in to see how Janey was coming along, stopping first to retrieve something from my safe. Janey's outfit was loosely based on that of a chauffer. Very loosely. OK. It was black and she had a cap. There was a vest but no blouse, so most of her luscious tits were exposed. It buttoned securely across her upper tummy and forced her breasts together and upward to emphasize their fullness. Not that they needed to be emphasized, mind you, but she looked spectacular. It was perfect. Her shorts, cut high on the hip, were tight enough to have been painted on, and the extra appliances sewn into the crotch would be constant reminders of her feminine anatomy throughout the day. They would irritate and stimulate, but not overly arouse her. I figured I would probably have to take additional binding measures tonight to make sure she didn't rape me or some other hapless male. Black shiny leather boots came to above her mid-thigh, leaving just a narrow band of soft sensitive flesh between the tops of the boots and her crotch. The 4- inch heels would make her tasks for the day a bit more difficult, but I couldn't resist what they added to the package. She looked up at me wryly as I entered her room. She knew better than to complain or question me, but she didn't look like she was uncomfortable. She was, however, clearly puzzled and curious about what she would be doing. As I looked her over, I saw she looked like a cross between a chauffer and a dominatrix. Like I said, perfect! She was even more puzzled when I held out my hand and she saw what I was carrying. It was her pistol, loaded and ready to go. "Where am I supposed to carry that?" she asked, just a little sarcastically. "Come here, and I'll show you." Brazenly, the little vamp strutted over, her chest thrust out, her tits all but spilling out of the tight vest. When she stopped, she was so close her nipples were brushing against my chest. Without saying a word I reached around behind her. Pulling up and back on the waistband of her tight shorts, I slipped the little gun into the small of her back. The bottom hem of the vest dipped down just enough to cover that spot when she was standing, hiding the pistol. The extra bulk of the gun had the effect of tightening her shorts even more than they were before, driving the small devices in the crotch into extremely intimate contact with her sensitized genitalia. I watched as her eyes widened in alarm, then sort of glazed over as she was unable to move away from the constant irritation. She leaned into me, resting her forehead on my chest as she gathered her wits about her once more. While she was quiet, I sent her a picture of what I wanted her to do today. She was to drive the limo for the rest of us. I outlined the itinerary, much abbreviated from what we had done the first Family Day, and the route she was to take. When she was clear with that, I then sent her the next part of her assignment. As the message sunk in, I felt the link between us tighten as she suddenly focused all her energies on what I was telling her. I kept my arms loosely around her as she came to grips with what it was I was telling her to do, but I could feel, more than see, her grin as she understood. I don't know if she ever knew the relief that I felt at receiving her consensus. We went out to the kitchen together, her arm linked in mine, but in a father/daughter kind of way. It felt odd, us acting in a normal family way with her dressed so erotically. One side of me wanted to protect her, while at the same time another part of me, admittedly lower down, wanted to ravish her. Yeah, it felt odd... Janey wolfed down her breakfast standing up, her thoughts focused on her tasks ahead. Then, with a sudden, surprising move, even to me, she grabbed her mother's wrist, twisted it up behind her back and force- marched her down to the dungeon. Sally's package was waiting for her down there. Sally had given a short squeak of surprise, staring over at me in brief terror before being whisked out of the kitchen. Her terror was delicious, and she was loving it. Janey knew her mother better than I did and was improvising on my plans for her. Nicole and Simone had started to react to Janey, but I stopped them with a shake of my head. There was a sudden quietness around the table after the other two had gone out of the room, and I let it grow. They weren't afraid for Sally. They knew me better than that. They were curious, that's all, and I left them to wonder. After about 20 minutes, I ushered them into the living room and told them to wait there. No peeking. It made them even more curious, and I thoroughly enjoyed keeping them in the dark. It was a rare enough occurrence as it was. Descending into the dungeon, I saw that Janey had finished with Sally. I reached out to Sally over our link, touching her tenderly. She moaned as she sensed I was near, but it wasn't in pain. Sally was in ecstasy. Sally's package had contained a special assortment of strap, buckles, loops, twists, ties, and other sorts of leather finery, especially and lovingly made by Amud and Bala. Just for her, and just for this occasion. Her lovely head, now encased in a form-fitting hood, was tucked down tight between her knees. I knew she couldn't do much more than moan, as her mouth was completely filled with a gag, complete with Amud's special sauce. Not that she was going to need it, but it was a special day. Besides, I had had it run through Gertie's labs. Harmless, but very powerful stuff. Gertie, and a few other of the female lab techs, were after me for the source, but that's another story... Anyway, I now felt comfortable using the marinated gags. Sally's ankles were bound together and each calf was bound to her thighs by two broad straps. Overkill, but Sally was into this kind of thing. Another strap went around her ankles and up over her lower back, keeping her bent over double. Another passed behind her knees and up over her shoulders. Her arms were encased in that single leather glove she loved to wear. I noticed Janey had laced it particularly tight, forcing contact along her forearms from her wrists to her elbows. Her arms were held tightly to her back by the two straps that circled her at her knees and ankles. Crushed as they were, I inspected her tits. Per my instructions, Janey had fitted them with two vibrating nipple clamps. They weren't too tight or too loose. Sally would be wearing them all day long and I didn't want any permanent damage. A third tormenting gadget was buried between her thighs, held in place by a leather crotch thong. The thong, in and of itself, was an ingenious torture that Bala had described to me, through Amud, of course. Made of course leather and embedded with a course grit of sand, the twisted braids bit into and irritated the tender flesh of her cunt. No amount of twisting or moving on her part could relieve her. Even more diabolical, the thong was marinated in the same sauce as the gag. The more she lubricated herself as a protection against the irritating sand, the more of the sauce entered her system. And then she would become even more aroused. A vicious circle. A handle of sorts was fashioned between the two straps that circled her body. Grinning over at Janey in thanks, I picked up her mother like a suitcase and hauled her out of the dungeon and up to the waiting limo. The car had been delivered the night before, and it was the most expensive part of the day's preparations. I figured that both Janey and Simone, when she was old enough to drive, could take turns acting as chauffeurs, so I just bought the damn thing. It was easier to get them to make all the special modifications I had requested, like tie-down bolts, hooks, etc. The windows were totally opaque from the outside. It was our own private little world. I deposited Sally and fastened her to three rings on the floor. Two at her ankles and one clipped to a short chain on her collar. She wasn't going anywhere. I linked to her to see if she was doing all right. The intensity of her feelings, amplified by her bondage, startled me. She was like a powder keg of confusion, fear, lust, arousal and happiness. Mostly happy. I went in to get the others. The scene I walked in on was almost as startling to me. Janey had gone upstairs to wait with the others. Apparently she was totally involved with her new dominant role, and she had both Nicole and Simone at her disposal. She was standing between them, one arm around each and each small gloved hand was caressing a lovely tit. Tweaking, pinching, squeezing them to a fever pitch of arousal. Not that those two particularly needed it, but they, too, were in character and were really getting into it. It made me wonder what went on when I wasn't there. Oh, the possibilities... On the way out, I held Janey back a little. "Hey, Cricket?" I asked her, "I guess that was OK, but those two are my responsibility today. Don't make my job any harder for me than it is." I raised my eyebrows in a silent plea. She paled, then grinned, realizing she had just barely crossed the line, but not enough to rile me. "OK, Sensei. Sorry. But Simone could tell something was up with Mom, so I was trying to distract her. And Nicki is so easy to, well, she really wants to please you. But you're right. I'll focus on my job and make sure Mom is OK." She walked a couple of steps. "And, Dad?" "Yeah?" She leaned over and kissed my cheek, very much out of character for the slutty attire she had on. "In case you're too busy tonight, I just want to say `Thank you' now for today. For me and Mom, since she can't say anything. She's really happy. Really happy. And for myself, I can't wait to wear this new outfit to school..." It took me a second to realize what she had said. "You wouldn't...!" I burst out, before I figured she was joking. Her delicious laughter told me I had been had, once again. It was going to be a long, long day. The owners of the country caf‚ had kindly asked me not to repeat the performance of the first Family Day. Not that it had been bad for their business, mind you, just the reverse. But they felt, in spite of the surge in profits, that they had a certain reputation to uphold as a `family' oriented establishment. I teasingly argued that Sally and Janey were my family, but in the end I had to agree that the rather large increase in the number of single men eating there, while good for business, could be a deterrent to other families, especially those with teen-aged daughters. It seems that the girls felt they got stared at when they ate there, especially if they came in from a workout at the gym next door. Of course, not all of them complained. As a result, the trip to The Guild was considerably shortened. At first, seeing Sally bound so tightly and securely dampened Nicole and Simone's spirits. Then the first couple of turns in the road set Sally to writhing in orgasmic ecstasy and you could hear her moaning, even through the gag and hood. I checked her breathing, making sure her nose was clear, and I opened the hole down the center of the gag a little wider. No sense taking chances. Nicole watched me carefully tending to Sally. "She is not being punished, no?" "No. In fact, she is rather content right now," I answered. She thought about it a minute. "Then today must be very special, or I will be jealous," she said finally. I swear, it almost sounded like a threat. Almost. After tending to Sally, I sat back to enjoy the ride. I put one arm around Nicole, the other around Simone. Nicole I pulled to me and kissed her deeply, then I let my hand wander freely over her readily accessible charms. Strangely, she resisted my attentions briefly, apparently concerned about Simone. I took care of that by urging Simone's head down towards my lap. She took about two seconds to figure out what I wanted and then her hands tore open my slacks. She engulfed the head of my prick and then proceeded to try to swallow the entire length of it before I stopped her with a firm handful of her hair. "Just Head Time, Simone. Nothing more," I commanded. She grumbled a little, but complied. "Well?" I tossed to Nicole. She pouted prettily. "Now I will be jealous for sure, Master." Laughing, I set about taking her mind off her troubles. By the time we got to the first stop, she was much less concerned about the privileges afforded the others. In fact, I had never seen her look so deliciously disheveled. I wasn't sure whether her shirt had shrunk with all the petting we had been doing or if her breasts had swollen, but as a result, nothing she did would fully cover her nipples. Finally, with a rueful glance up at me, she raised her hands to meet my proffered ones, further exposing her charms. It was a beautiful sight to behold. Chapter 53 I helped Nicole out of the car, giving her distraught face a quick kiss on the tip of her nose. She took that for the reassurance I had intended and, squaring her shoulders, prepared to meet the day's events. Her daughter, similarly aroused, bounced out of the car on her own, her abbreviated shirt lodged well above her nipples. Fortunately for the public, Janey had been able to pull the limo up right in front of the first shop and I ushered the two over exposed women right inside in a matter of a few steps. The corset maker was waiting for us and immediately hung out her "Private Showing" sign. The hanging of these signs was becoming popular, to the point you needed to check on the availability of some of the more popular shops. Knowing how expensive these private showings were, I could understand the status they afforded the "special" customers. Some of the artisans accommodated the requests of some of their clients by listing the name of the client on the signs, then, at the close of the showing, presenting the sign to them, properly framed for hanging. I suppose for some that it was a status symbol of sorts and that the signs would be hung in a visible place with pride. For Nicole and Simone, I had requested that the showings be anonymous and, to the relief of my craftsmen, they happily complied. I left Nicole and Simone in the capable hands of the shopkeeper and her assistant. The two women, still in a semi-erotic haze, were quickly divested of their garments and as I left, were standing nude on the casting stands. Simone was more alert than her mother was and stared wide-eyed at the restricting garments tastefully arranged around the shop. Again, Janey's tale of the first Family Day gave her a clue as to what was going on, and she winked gaily at me as I waved to her on my way out. I tapped on the window of the limo and motioned Janey to get out and come over to me. "I want you to stand out here during our stops. You need to do two things. First, and most important, keep attuned to your Mom and make sure everything is going OK. Otherwise, just stand here and be alert for anything unusual." I patted her on the back, just over her gun, to let her know I was serious. I was. She looked at me wryly. "Can I pick up customers?" referring to the fact she was dressed like a hooker. "Only if they're worthy of you, Janey," I replied as I climbed into the back of the limo. That comment set her thinking, and I heard her muttering darkly over our link when she realized that any `customer' would automatically not be worthy of her, and besides, what would the price of that sale be. A conundrum, for sure. The interior of the limo was dark and smelled like, well, it was a great smell in that it was the odor of my love's arousal. I reached out to Sally with my link and sent her over the edge with a sustained climax. I untied the end of her crotch thong and laid it down between her ankles. Then, in one swift move, I buried myself to the hilt in her dripping depths. Sally was bound too tightly to arch her back in reaction to my impaling her, but she tried. In her mind she began a wail of ecstasy that lasted for several minutes. When she was quieted down, I slipped out of her cunt and put the tip of my rigid tool against her nether hole. There was not even a moment's hesitation on her part as she relaxed against the impending invasion. Slowly, savoring every millimeter, I sank into that tight orifice. Once imbedded fully, I leaned over her, draping myself over her back. It was a lot of weight on her, especially in her present condition, but I wanted her to feel fully consumed by me, surrounded, protected. I supported a little of my weight with my hands and knees, but for the most part, she supported me. Sally seemed to respond to this mental bondage in much the same way she responded to physical bondage. She embraced it, welcomed it, staying quiet, waiting for me to make the next move. That move was to use the intimate and total contact between us to establish what was the strongest link between us to date. Then we `talked', as best I can describe it. It wasn't something I would want to do often, as there was no place to hide. There were no fancy words, no euphemisms, no long pauses, no walking away. Our souls were laid bare to one another as never before. I also wouldn't trade that time for anything. I was spending a lot of time with Nicole, and, truth be told, I was terrified of losing Sally. I needed reassurance from her that this relationship was what truly what she wanted. I was frustrated, too, in that I couldn't yet `connect' with Nicole. I was relieved in a way to find that she couldn't sense her either, but it didn't make me feel any better. We both knew that Nicole seemed to perceive some impulses and send some signals out that we could pick up on, but apparently she just didn't recognize them for what they were. We `talked' about Janey, too, who was intently listening in on her link. For once, I didn't mind. I felt she needed to know how I felt about her, how much I loved her, how much I respected her and how relieved I was that she had recovered. I also felt she needed to know how unsure I was about our unusual family relationship and that I was fearful that the openness of our living arrangement would backfire and harm her or Simone or all of us. The hour passed quickly and I reluctantly withdrew from Sally's clasping anal embrace. I had prepared wet towels for just this occasion and cleaned us both up, replacing the crotch thong just before I exited the limo. Two very agitated women awaited me as I re-entered the first shop. The craftsman and her assistant had had instructions from me to keep the two in as aroused a state as possible, but without allowing for any release. They had apparently been very successful, hence the agitated state. I had noticed the new addition of several hanging ropes and quickly guessed that the two had been `stabilized' after I had left, for security purposes, you understand. Once helpless, with their hands bound overhead, the two had been helpless against the advances of the measurers. Grinning, I took an elbow of each of my women and, with a satisfied nod to the owner, escorted them out of the shop. Nicole and Simone looked like they needed a breather, and, as were had the time, we walked to the next shop in the next block. I waved Janey back into the car and she followed after safely pulling into traffic. Surprisingly, there was another parking spot directly in front of this shop as well. I was beginning to see a pattern here, but I was damned if I could figure out how they arranged it, if that is what they were doing. This was one of the busiest malls in the country and parking spots were at a premium at any hour of the day. To find two available spots directly in front of where you were going, back to back, was too coincidental. The second stop was for undergarments, those tiny frilly kind that served only to inflame the male lust, or female lust, as the case may be. This shop had the same instructions as the previous one. The two were stripped and bound before the intimate and very hand-on process of measuring the two women began. Nicole groaned in frustration as she relaxed into the bonds supporting her. Simone, grinning at her mother, rolled her eyes at me as I blew her a kiss before exiting. I think she was beginning to see a pattern here, too, and one that Janey had not warned her about. Hey! I had to keep things interesting for such a young quick mind, didn't I? Janey was waiting by the car this time, a slightly worried look on her face. When I got close enough she grinned nervously at me, her eyes darting from me to someone behind and too the side. She was shifting her weight from one high heel to the other. One hand, her right one, was behind her back, and I knew what was back there. Suddenly, I recognized the stance she had subtly shifted into. She had moved into a shooting posture, ready to defend her helpless mother. Now at full alert, I slowly moved my hand to my own pistol, loosening it in the holster. Smoothly, I moved to her, keeping off to one side so as not to block her shot if she needed to shoot. "What's up, Pumpkin?" Janey was so intense on the situation she didn't even react to that hated nickname. "There's a guy, 6 foot plus, 220 or so hanging around that window two stores down. He was at the last stop, too. He, well, he looks out of place, Dad." I used the mirror to look backwards down the street. She was right. Jimmy did look out of place in front of that dress shop. My sigh of relief must have been audible to Janey, as she looked up at me quickly, taking her eyes off her target. "Its OK, Janey. That's your backup. Jimmy. He and I have worked together before..., well, just before. He's going to be pissed that you spotted him." I quickly scanned the area. The other two `backups' were in place. Janey saw me glance around. "There're more?" I nodded. "The black guy?" I nodded. "The lady with the baby stroller?" I looked at her in surprise. She had picked up on all three. Maybe Jimmy wasn't going to be pissed. Maybe Janey was just extra observant. "You're going to have to tell me how you picked them out." "Oh, the guys were easy! They were the only two who didn't look at me when they came close to me or walked by. They looked everywhere else, but not at me. I mean, come on, Dad! Even you can't keep your eyes off of me! It was almost the same with the lady, but she was a little tougher. But I noticed that she looks everywhere but at her baby." "Very good! I'll pass that along." "Dad?" "Yes?" "Thanks." "For what?" "For making sure we would be OK. I mean, I know how to shoot, but I never have. Anybody, I mean. I was really worrying about it, too, that I might have to. I wasn't sure if I could or not." "You would have done the right thing, Janey. I know you would have." "Well, maybe. But I did find out one thing." "What's that?" "I'm pretty sure I could do it, I mean, if it meant protecting Mom or you. Nicki and Simmie, too. But..." "But what?" "I wouldn't have liked it. If I had to shoot someone, I mean." I softly kissed her on the forehead, regretting very much the tiny bit of innocence she had just lost with the realization that she could value one life above another's. "We never like it, Honey. Never." Chapter 54 The rest of the shops went the same way. I would deliver the girls to the shopkeeper then go back to the limo to `talk' with Sally. Janey, and her backups, kept watch. At one point I asked Janey how much she had shared with Simone about the first visit to The Guild. Had she told her everything? "Not exactly," was her reply. "Meaning....?" I led her to reply. "Meaning the Rosen's devices will probably come as a shock to her." Grinning at her devious omission, I asked, "Nicole?" Grinning back, she answered, "Not a clue. Mom and I agreed. We wanted you to have to explain what you did to them!" Ahhh! I knew there was a hitch! Typical. But at least there would be one surprise for Simone on this day. One special one for Nicole, too, but that was later. Amud and Bala greeted us warmly, the women openly hugging each other. I stayed to watch this session, having alerted Sally that she would be alone for the next hour or so. It wasn't that I distrusted these two. Rather, it was such a joy to watch Bala work on the women. Her touch was so deft, so sure. I always learned something new from her. As before, she started with the younger woman. Nicole's reaction to the hanging leather implements and saddles was very similar to what Sally's had been, but she didn't `zone out' the way Sally had. So as Simone was measured, then hung and whipped to one thundering orgasm after another, Nicole wandered the shop, lovingly and longingly touching the sensuous leather items. Bala was surprised at the explosive and repetitive nature of Simone's orgasm. Through Amud, I explained that the women had been primed for this all day long. Winking knowingly at me, she then proceeded to draw every ounce of sexual tension she could out of the hanging girl. When she was unable to wring anymore from her, they placed her limp, sated form in my arms. D‚j… vu all over again. Nicole stood quietly while she was measured, but resisted a little to being strung up. A special marinated gag calmed her, along with my command to her to allow this. She still resisted, even with the drug, and Bala had to work for a long time before Nicole achieved a meager release. On the way out, Amud pulled me to one side. "She is a stubborn one, very strong inside. Special. Bala wanted me to tell you." I looked lovingly over at Nicole. "Yes, she is." "No. Not the mother. The girl. Special, very special inside." "But Nicole was the one that resisted Bala today." Amud made a motion to brush that aside as meaningless. "Do not read too much into such things. Nicole very much your woman. Very much in love with idea of her Master being on other end of the whip. You leave her with Bala for one week and she be singing good for her, too." He nodded at Simone. "This one different. She can help you with others. Strong and like both ends of whip, but especially to give. But the little one needs the hose soon." He blushed as he said this next part. "We are aware of how you think, that she your daughter and that you cannot give her hose when she need it. Bala..." he gulped, then looked back at her for reassurance, "...my love said I should volunteer to help. With the girl." I looked at him in disbelief. Was he saying what I thought? Did he just volunteer to fuck my Simone? I asked him, pointblank. He withered at my suggestion that he had anything illicit in mind. "No, Lawrence! For training purposes only. For good of the girl, only. Not my pleasure! My beloved there every time! No pleasure for me at all with my love there." I don't think he realized how humorous what he said was. But I backed down, apologized for doubting his intent and told him I would think about his offer. Secretly, I had been having similar thoughts about Simone. Not that I would fuck her, but that she had a tremendous need for cock that needed to be met soon. She was becoming fixated on mine, and that was not good. The jewelry store was next. When I picked them up, Nicole was pensive and withdrawn and there was a tiny drop of blood on the shirt over her left tit. I half expected her to ask why she had been pierced in this shop, but she just sat quietly as Janey pulled the car into traffic and headed towards the exit. Simone seemed relieved it was all over. Thus, she was very surprised when the car pulled into yet another conveniently located spot. Her curiosity grew as there was no storefront along this section of the mall, just the back ends of a lot of the other shops. Silently, without explanation, I took them down that long alleyway to the Rosen's clinic. When I introduced the Dr.s Rosen to Nicole and Simone, it was like old home week. I should have guessed they knew each other, or at least of each other. Both European, both intellectuals, that was a small neighborhood. It turned out they had followed each other's careers with mutual admiration. Of course, Simone had read their scientific papers and wanted to discuss them in depth, though the three doctors were a little taken aback by her youthful appearance. I think having Nicole in my `harem', as she put it, raised me several levels in Dr. Rosen's estimation. She wasn't sure about Simone, but she was clearly impressed by what she saw. When my girls were stripped and positioned on the tables, I caught sight of Nicole's look just before she went under from the anesthesia. She knew very well what kind of research the Rosens had done. She may not have known exactly what was going to happen, but she was light-years ahead of what Sally had known. I wasn't sure if that was going to make it harder or easier to explain why I had had them implanted with those particular devices. Ah, what the shit! I guess I'd just have to burn that bridge when I came to it. Dr. Wang took advantage of their appointment to do a check-up and a tune-up on my own implants, sort of. I didn't ask too many questions. It wasn't that I didn't care. It's just that I had had so many things done to me by so many doctors, I finally stopped asking. I found it was better if I didn't know. Apparently I was OK, as he grinned widely as he led me to the door. I asked if I could use it right away, and he nodded vigorously, speaking excitedly as he did, which didn't help his diction. "The more the better," was all I could make out of his broken English. At least, I hoped that's what he said. I went out to the limo and fucked Sally. It kind of surprised me, the intensity of the urge that rose within me. I had been satisfying myself - and her - all day long, several times, and that was usually enough to keep my horniness in check. But there wasn't another term for what I did to Sally right then. I climbed on and threw her the meat, pounded her pussy. I wasn't tender, I wasn't there for her pleasure, although she did enjoy it. I used her cunt and deposited what felt like a gallon of cum deep in her. When I was done, I unplugged, still hard, still horny. This time when we were finished, I cleaned up myself, but left Sally dripping my jism on the carpet. I went back into the clinic, thanked the Rosens and then brusquely herded the two women back to the car. Both were still under the influence of the anesthesia a little, so the walk back to the limo was silent and swift. Simone climbed in the back first, stopping halfway in as she took in the sight that greeted her. A red, dripping and obviously well fucked cunt. She finished getting into the limo without comment. Nicole, when it was her turn to get in, gasped when she saw Sally as I had left her. She immediately rushed to her side, ready to give her aide. When I entered the back of the limo, Nicole turned accusingly to me, ready to attack should I make a move towards Sally. It was only after the reassurances from Janey and Simone that Sally was really OK that she somewhat sheepishly came back to sit by my side. Even then, she was quiet. I figured Nicole would ask me about the Rosen's devices when she was ready, so I moved forward and cleaned up Sally, taking up the time, allowing her to ask when she was ready. I was a little chagrined I had left Sally like that. I don't know what came over me, but I had just felt like showing off. It was teenager macho stuff, and a nagging little itch started in the back of my mind. I busied myself, ignoring my thoughts in that direction and focused on Sally. I released her from some of her bonds, massaging the stiffness from her sore muscles in the process. When she could kneel upright, I removed her hood, but I left the gag in her mouth. Still, the dark interior of the car was almost too bright for her eyes and she blinked until she had accommodated. Then she looked up at me with a look of total love. I hoped it would last. I was about to put it to the test, and even with her reassurances, things don't always look the same when you're confronted with the reality of what was once just an idea. Still kneeling, I turned to Nicole. I picked up her hand and gently kissed her palm. Then I lifted her abbreviated shirt up, exposing her breasts. I gently kissed each in turn, focusing on her nipples, back and forth until her body responded to the stimulus and her nipples were throbbingly hard. Deftly, with an unpracticed ease I pulled a small box from my pocket and took a diamond heart from it. The heart shaped diamond was exactly like the one I had given Sally when I had proposed to her. I found the pierced hole in her nipple the jewelers had placed there earlier in the day, and slipped the fine wire through it. The wire clipped securely onto the heart and the diamond lay there on her heaving breast, glinting and gleaming in the dim light. The glinting light from Sally's heart matched it from across the cab of the limo. "Nicole, I... I..." "Yes, Lawrence. My answer is `Yes.'" I let her have the last word. Chapter 55 Two short weeks later was another concert. The day of the event, my ladies were pampered and primped, bathed, massaged, coifed and coddled. I could sense the sexual tensions building in Sally and Janey who had been through this process before as well as in Nicole and Simone. Those two seemed unprepared for the luxuriousness of the treatments, thought I was sure Sally and Janey had told them all about it. In the afternoon, the driver of The Guild's delivery van handed over a myriad of packages with all the usual pomp and deference. I don't know if the girls were more relieved or curious. Due to the recent fittings of Nicole and Simone and the two additional outfits that needed to be created, the craftsmen were a little rushed to meet the deadline I had requested. When the last beauty treatment was finished, the equipment loaded and the vans gone, I sat in my office with four kneeling very gorgeous, very horny females. Three of them had their long hair perfectly braided in a style that we all called the `slave braid,' a loose French weave leaving a full tail of hair hanging straight down the back. The remaining woman had her hair elegantly down up on top of her head. All four were in front of my desk, quietly fidgeting, anxious to see what surprises were hidden in the golden boxes that had been delivered. Concert nights were always special, and they anticipated nothing different on this one. I hoped not to disappoint them. Taking Simone and Janey by the hands, I led them to their room. Their boxes were laid out on their beds, shining in the afternoon sunlight from the windows. The girls' excitement was palpable. I took a soft cord from my pocket. Turning Janey around to face away from me, I loosely tied her hands behind her, more symbolic than confining. Leaning down to put my mouth close to her ear, I whispered, "Are you ready for this?" To her credit, she took her time before answering. She knew what I was asking her to do, having witnessed the bondage Sally had been in at prior concerts. This would not be a `date' like before, but something new, another step down an unknown path. When she did answer, she simply said, "Yes," and then quickly turned to give me a kiss on the cheek. Her eyes were shiny with excitement. Having Janey's cooperation was part one. Simone's would be part two. I turned to the teenager, her eyes wide with awe, fixated on the knot binding Janey's hands. When I looked over at her, she gulped, then presented her hands to me in a similar manner. I gathered the girl in my arms and sat on the bed. I deposited her on my lap, her short robe allowing her bare bottom to caress my thigh. She was trembling, more from fear than excitement. "I sort of had something else in mind for you, Simone, if that's all right with you." She almost sobbed her relief. "I'd like you to help me out tonight. As you know, I will have both your Mom and Sally to take care of. I'd like you to be in charge of Janey. Think you can do that?" I had said all of this quietly, so that Janey could not hear us. The idea of being in charge seemed to intrigue the girl. "In charge? What would I have to do?" "Oh, I think you have an idea. Make sure she is safe, as she will be bound pretty tightly. Help her get dressed. Make sure she behaves. Stuff like that." "Oh." She thought about it a minute. "OK." "Good girl. If you have any questions, I'll be right there, too." Part one and part two completed. I kissed her cheek as I stood. I picked up a small box off of her bed. I turned her around this time a slipped her necklace, a silver diamond studded heart on a snug chain, around her neck. Another similar box on Janey's bed held a bejeweled slave collar. The difference in the two styles was obvious and Janey's eye's widened as she began to realize what the arrangement would be that night. I stood to the side of the room for a few minutes as Simone began Janey's preparations. The first thing she did was to strip Janey of her robe, leaving her naked but for the collar and the cord binding her hands. Then, with deliberate movements, she stood behind the bound girl and cupped both her breasts with her small hands. Then she squeezed. She kept applying pressure until Janey moaned softly. Releasing one of those magnificent globes, Simone let one hand wander down to brush the tightly cropped pubic hairs. I watched in fascination as Simone proceeded to establish her gentle but very definite dominance over the older girl. It was done slowly and softly, yet there was no questioning who was in charge. One finger, then two were buried in the gasping girl's dripping twat. Just before Janey's knees buckled, Simone stopped her stimulation with a suddenness that left Janey gasping. With a confident grin over at me, Simone then began ripping open the various boxes on Janey's bed, flaunting a bit the fact that she got to open all the boxes. I wondered whether I should have mentioned to Simone that she would be on the other end one day soon, with Janey in charge of her, but decided to let things take their own course. It would be more fun that way. For me, anyway. I slipped out of the room to begin my own preparations for the evening. As much as I wanted to stay and watch - God, Janey was beautiful! - I had my own two beauties to subdue. Returning to my office, I retrieved the two remaining lovelies and led them to our bedroom. Two stacks of boxes on the bed, two lovely ladies. I made them kneel, facing the boxes. I took the small box from Nicole's stack, the only difference in the two piles. It held her jeweled slave collar, and as I fastened the secure clasp, Nicole began to cry. At first I thought it was too tight, but Sally signaled to me that her tears were just a release of tension. This collar, my collar, was yet another sign of my commitment to her and Nicole was overcome with emotion. Careful not to smudge her perfect makeup, I patted her eyes and let her blow her nose with a tissue. Through all of this, we didn't exchange one word. I got Sally's collar from the safe and fastened it around her slender neck. With that, the two women were relieved of their robes. Taking a page from Simone's book, I knelt behind each one in turn and possessively fondled and aroused them. I didn't need to bind their hands behind them. Instead, I just positioned their hands behind their backs with wrists crossed and the two obediently kept them there without aide. Nicole came almost immediately, a deed that I reminded her would be punished at the end of the evening. That reminder seemed to excite her to yet another shuddering orgasm. I felt it would be counterproductive to remind her again, so I simply held her tightly until she regained a semblance of calm. Sally, while in no way stoic, allowed me to take her to the edge of her climax, enjoying the build up of the tension within both of us. I urged her on with my fingers and tongue, but she maintained her control by a tremendous effort. It wasn't until I asked her if she really wanted to abandon her `sister' to be punished alone that she allowed me to push her over the edge. As often as I had witnessed it, I still could not understand Sally's embracing of pain. I only hoped I could keep both her and Nicole satisfied. Their attire for the evening was deceptively simple but very stringent. Essentially a corset, it incorporated straps down the spine designed to fixate their arms from elbow to wrist. A small pocket in the small of the back captured and secured their hands. I had asked that the pockets be moveable so that I could move them up or down, thereby increasing the stress on the back and shoulders. On this night I had moved them up a notch and both women gasped as they realized the level of discomfort they would have to endure for the evening. The corset itself was unforgiving. The stays were stiff and unbending. When tied down, they cinched in the waists an amazing 3 inches. The base of the corset rested firmly on the pelvic girdle, pinched in the waist and hugged the lower ribs tightly. The material of the corset ended just above the bottom of the breasts, but was so tight, that it forced the malleable tissue up and together. A `Wonder-Bra' effect. Breathing in this attire was possible, but not easy. Bending was nearly impossible and not recommended. There were as series of straps hanging from the upper front of the corset. With these, I introduce an element of tit-bondage, tightly tying that tender flesh with a criss-cross of strands until their breast bulged out between the straps like twin balloons forced against a chain-link fence. It was lightly painful and, at the same time, deliciously erotic. The slightest touch on them brought moans from the women. The last boxes contained leather boots custom fit to be tight and to rise to meet in their crotches. They were laced, not zipped, and I enjoyed tying and retying those laces that ended just short of paradise. Of course, with my big clumsy hands, the women were rubbed extensively in a most intimate way. The boots had extremely high heels, 5-6 inches, the highest they had ever worn. The long heels resulted in their toes being pointed almost straight down. The Rosen's earrings and the vaginal and anal probes completed the ensembles. I turned them on immediately and then gave them the admonition not to cum unless I allowed it. This was Nicole's first experience with these diabolical devices and she was incapable of preventing and then stopping her climax. I turned her units down, leaving Sally's at the original level until Nicole could again regain her composure, then edged them up gradually until she was only barely in control. I assisted the two bound women into the living room where we met Simone and a very arouse, but subdued, Janey. I had never seen her eyes so wild with passion nor so desperate to cum. Janey was outfitted exactly as her mother and Nicole, right down to the breast bondage. Simone had actually done her up tighter than I had done with the other two, and I briefly considered loosening it. A check with the teen over the link told me not to bother. I handed Simone the remote that controlled Janey's devices and showed her how to use it. Janey's eyes almost bugged out when she flicked it on, her orgasm causing her tortured tit flesh to swell and further tighten the already tight cords. Again, I checked her over the link, with a repeated assurance that she was OK and to let Simone handle her. I blinked at this rebuff, but, seeing that Simone had `sensed' the conversation, just grinned as she winked at me. She would be just fine. Simone, for her attire, was wearing a simple black cocktail dress with thin straps. I knew that underneath she, too, was wearing a corset, although not nearly as constricting as the other three. Her sleek shapely legs were sheathed in dusky silk stockings held up with garters attached to the base of the corset. Transparent panties held in her vaginal and anal probes. The flimsy matching bra held the Rosen's bra stimulators in place. She was the only one of the four with those devices. Simone's long dark hair was piled seductively up on top of her head, baring her slender neck. She looked as elegant as the most sophisticated uptown girl, yet managed a cherubic innocence. The only discordant thing was the nearly evil mischievous gleam in her beautiful eyes. She fully intended to enjoy dominating Janey tonight. Again, I thought about reminding her that she would be on the other end soon, but decided against it. I had a feeling she was aware that that would happen, but didn't care. Three capes were draped and securely fastened on the three slave-girls. I assisted Simone with her own white ermine stole, which she wore as if she was born wearing one. The remote for Janey's devices was slipped securely under the wristband of her watch, leaving her hands free. Because all of the women were `busy' tonight, I had arranged for the limo company to send over a driver. Our own limo was used, and the same discreet young woman we had used before briskly opened the rear door as we exited the house. Simone and I assisted Janey and Nicole into the back of the car. Sally, practiced in this situation, needed only a close eye and the backup of the driver. Sally and Nicole knelt on the soft carpet on each side of me. Immediately, I loosed my cock and waited for one or the other to attempt to take it in her mouth. With her eyes closed with the effort of bending over, Nicole was the first to reach it. In reward for her efforts, I nudged her remote up a couple of notches. As a result, she had a tremendous orgasm and she nearly bit my cock, stopping from doing severe damage only with a supreme effort. Feeling like a heartless bastard, I gave her another reprimand and additional punishment when we got home. She bit me again, but that time she nipped me on purpose. I swore to myself to show her no mercy. Sally swayed gently with the movement of the car on the highway. I motioned her closer and, releasing the snaps of her cape, exposed her reddened deformed tits. I found the nipples to be as hard as pebbles. As Nicole tried to keep her head still on my cock, I flicked and teased Sally's nipples, squeezing and rolling them between my fingers. I saw her eyes roll up in her head as she came hard, her breath coming is ragged gasps. It was rare for her to cum from breast stimulation alone and I think it caught her by surprise. Simone had not let Janey be idle during the ride. As soon as she had seen what was going on with Sally and Nicole, Simone had hiked up her skirt, pulled her panties to one side and lowered Janey's head to her slippery young cunt. Janey, being a lot more flexible than the older women, did not have the trouble bending and gave Simone no resistance. Simone stiffened in a grunting orgasm when I switched on her devices. The intensity of those intimate little buggers was surprising and I don't think the women ever did get used to the intense feelings they produced. At least, they always seemed to be surprised by the onrush of that first orgasm, even Sally and Janey. Maybe it was just an indication that I wasn't overusing them. After the anticipation and the lascivious preparations, the concert was something of a letdown. The visiting conductor was almost genius, and was almost brilliant. Almost. Still, the pieces were by a composer I liked and given my compliant companions, it was easy to be forgiving of the performance. I kept Simone flopping around in her chair like a fish on dry land, mostly to give Janey a break. She was taking Janey to the very edge of her limits way too soon and there was still more to come. Janey gave me a look of combined thanks and disgust. She understood on one level why I was giving her a break, but on a gut level, she was thoroughly immersed in this new experience and wished I would kindly butt out. Our limo did not have an opaque window between the driver and the rear compartment. I hadn't felt it would be necessary, intending for Janey and Simone to do the driving. As a result, the young woman driving us to and from the concert got an eye and ear full of some rather unorthodox behavior that evening. I noticed her eyeing us on the way to the concert hall. On the way back, she almost crashed as all three capes were lying carelessly on the carpeted deck. Three nearly naked and obviously strictly bound women were apparently too much for the girl, not to mention my above average cock. Beth, as we found out her name, recovered safely and forced herself to focus on her job. That impressed me, particularly when she approached me at the end of the evening in our driveway. I had just climbed out of the car after she had opened the door. "Sir?" "Yes, uh, I'm sorry I don't know your name, miss." "It's Beth, Sir. I just wanted to apologize for my driving, Sir. It won't happen again." "I should hope it wouldn't. But, no harm was done." "Yes, Sir, uh, No, Sir..." I could tell she was nervous. "Was there something else? I won't report you, if that is what is bothering you." She blushed, then blurted out, "Do they like, I mean, they must, but, doesn't it, well, of course does, but, well," she took a deep breath, then "Sir, would you do that to me? I mean, not now, you're busy, of course, but sometime...." I stopped her with a finger to her lips. She was a pretty young girl and would not have a problem finding a man - or woman - willing to help her. I had my hands full already. "Are you interested in trying the bondage or me?" "The bondage stuff, Sir," she answered immediately, before, "Oh, but you, too." Gee, thanks. Like I said, she was young. "Well, Beth, I can't bring you into our family, but I may have someone safe in mind for you, if you meet their standards. Thank you for driving us. I'll contact you later." With that, I turned and escorted four very curious women into the house. I didn't really know anybody, but in a flash of inspiration I `sensed' that Beth would fit perfectly into another unorthodox family that I saw evolving, or that I could encourage to evolve. Time would tell if I was right but I wouldn't say anything to anyone until I had a few more facts. Until then, they could just wonder. I had Sally and Nicole kneel on the floor in the entryway while I escorted Janey and Simone to their room once again. Once there, I reached under the bed and slid out an apparatus of tubes, straps and pads. Both girls watched closely as I assembled a simple but sturdy frame. Helping Janey down on her knees onto the pad at the base, I bent her from the waist over another padded bar, bringing her mouth down to a latex penis that fit perfectly into and filled her mouth. A simple harness held her head firmly in place and two straps behind her knees held her legs spread and firmly in place. With her hands and arms still bound by the corset, Janey wasn't going anywhere. "Neat!" was all that Simone said, instantly seeing the possibilities of Janey's position. Her luscious ass high in the air, accessibility to one or both orifices, Simone was already thinking along the intended lines. There was just one more thing. I pulled Simone to me as I sat down on the bed. I reached down and retrieved yet another box out from under the bed that I had hidden along with the apparatus. With Simone facing me, I reached behind her and unzipped her dress. With infinite care, I slipped the narrow straps off her shoulders, watching her face the entire time. I was alert for any sign of resistance. Her flimsy bra was next, then her dainty panties. Simone's breathing was becoming more erratic, as was mine, I must admit. It was a novel experience, undressing this seductive teenager, and I was not immune to her charms. The only thing that stopped me from dallying with her right then was the prior engagement I had with her mother and Sally and I think we both knew it. From the box I removed a pair of leather pants. At first she protested that the pants were inside out as I slid them up her legs. She could see the protrusions, or intrusions, that would have to fit up inside of her. They weren't long, but they were thick. Persistently, I slid the pants up to her crotch, then gently inserted the front and rear phalluses into her. Then I cinched the thick belt tight. On the front panel of the pants was a bolt, and onto that I screwed a larger, longer and thicker dildo. It clicked into place with a solid snap. The final adjustments were made by repeatedly squeezing two air bulbs secreted in the waistband of the shorts. I watched her eyes widened as first the front, then the rear probe swelled to fill her completely and lock into place. I took her hand and placed it on her `penis.' "Stroke it." She did, and immediately moaned. The locking bolt was connected by a solid metal scaffold to both the vaginal and anal probes. The probes were locked in her own canals so tightly that any movement of the dildo was translated directly to her own genitals. The designers had told me it was almost as good as the real thing, but I wondered how they would know. The last thing I took out of the box was a light riding crop. Simone's eyes widened when she saw the whip and immediately associated it with Janey's creamy ass. She salivated as she accepted the supple leather instrument from me. Janey had three bright red stripes across her ass before I could get out of the room. I felt her explosive climax across the link and sensed her relaxing into and under Simone's control. There was already an instinctive trust between the two girls that allowed Janey to let go and experience everything Simone had for her to the fullest. I left them to their frolicking, focused on my own responsibilities. Two more tubular frames came from under our bed and Sally and Nicole were secured in them in a relatively short time. I fingered them in their exposed genital areas for a long time, teasing them to a higher and higher sexual pitch. Finally, when they were nearly mad out of their minds, I stopped touching them. Tonight I had decided upon a thick leather strap, one that would leave their asses bruised if used with too much force. I intended to get as close to that point as possible and, if I slipped over the line a time or two, well, they would heal. In time. I started on Nicole, the first swat telegraphing the serious intent of the evening. It sounded like a shot in the suddenly tension-filled room. After ten hard blows, I lowered my pants and plunged my rampant cock deep within her without warning. Her clasping cuntal walls spasmed, either in pain or orgasm, against my sudden intrusion. I couldn't remember being this aroused by disciplining the women before, and the thought flitted though my mind that my behavior of late had been much more aggressive than usual. But as I was enveloped in the heat of her cunt, the thought passed through without leaving much evidence of its being thought, and I gave myself over to the enjoyment of giving pain to my lovers. I fucked Nicole roughly for a long time. She continued to milk my cock, clasping and squeezing me as hard as I was shoving into and out of her. Without intending to, I found myself blowing my load suddenly deep within her. With a surprised grunt, I yanked my still rigid member from her. Raising my hand, I administered another ten blows to her flaming ass, harder than the first. Nicole continued to moan around the penis gag throughout, her eyes closed in ecstasy. Sally received the same treatment, the same roughness, with the same curious arousal and the same surprising ejaculation on my part. I wasn't losing control, not with Dr. Wang's little gadgets. It just seemed that the more pain I handed out, the stiffer and larger and more aroused I became. I became like an animal after fucking Sally, eventually taking both women anally after giving them even more severe beatings. They would be bruised in the morning, but I was beyond caring about them. All that mattered was this driving need, this obsession within me. Had I been aware of what was going on, I probably would have been worried, but as it was, I was totally self- absorbed. Finally exhausted, I released the two beaten women from their bonds and collapsed into bed. There were no endearments that night, no cuddling, no pillow talk. Already softly snoring, I missed the cautious glances the two women gave to each other over my sweat-dampened chest and the secret satisfied smiles on their faces as they too drifted off to a satisfied sleep. They could worry about the future tomorrow. Chapter 56 Breakfast the next morning was only a little late. I had had to rouse the sleeping beauties, and they weren't all that happy about it. We had been sitting for only a few minutes, waiting for the last arrivals. Simone slipped into the chair on my left, a satisfied grin on her face. It resembled a smirk, but wasn't quite as insolent. The reason for her satisfaction became evident when Janey entered and moved to the chair on my right. That was the chair that the girl with the exposed breasts sat in. Janey made as if to protest to Simone, then, lowering her eyes, eased into the chair. Her posture looked like she was hovering over the seat, trying not to let her ass touch the fabric of the cushion. I figure Simone had worked her over pretty well the night before. The real shock, however, came when Sally lifted Janey's short T-shirt up and took it off. Those deliciously creamy tits were emblazoned with angry red stripes, along with her entire stomach. "Lean forward and turn towards Sally." I spoke in a deadly tone and she obeyed without hesitation. The pattern of stripes on her back matched those on her front, methodically even and expertly applied, almost the work of an artist. That they had been laid down by my innocent little girl shook me deeply, more than it should have. She had an obvious talent for this, a love of it, and I suddenly realized I was not prepared for the competition nor the training of her. "Stand up and show me your bottom, Janey," I said, knowing even as I said it what we would see. I was right. Flaming red lines, evenly spaced from the small of her back to the tops of her thighs. "Well, Simone, I hope you remember that you will be on the receiving end next time. And that will be soon, believe me." I emphasized "Soon" and the cocky look she had in her eyes began to wilt. She was proud, and rightly so, of the expert way she had handled the crop, but it was a bit excessive. More than a bit. It was exuberant, a celebration of whipping, beautiful in a way, but uncalled for under the circumstances. I wasn't sure how to proceed with this volatile minx without crushing her spirit. Of course, I was a good one to preach moderation with the whip, what with my two women showing very visible bruises on their asses and unable to sit without wincing for a couple of days. "But, Papa! Does not the Holy Book tell us it is better to give than to receive?" she asked with deceptive innocence. I wheeled on her and again saw her eyes dancing merrily. She was enjoying this way too much. "Simone, the Good Book says many things, almost all of which have been, at some time or another, taken way out of context, usually to excuse any number of excesses or misdeeds. In this case I think you're stretching that quote just a bit too much. However, to be fair, I would like to continue this little discussion after Janey has had her turn with the crop on your bottom - and front - and then we'll see if you still think that you would like to quote it." I paused, looking over once again at the multihued skin of Janey. Then, with a deadly serious voice, I said, "I have a feeling that you will, but it will be from a more balanced perspective, no?" Simone blanched as she heard that last line. She understood she was going to have the opportunity to compare firsthand both the giving and the receiving of such an extravagance of pain. The remainder of the day was quiet, Simone and I being the only mobile ones in the family, and for some reason, she was avoiding me. Go figure! The rest of that week and on into the next, everything just seemed to come together. Sally was busy with the new house and Nicole was being drafted to assist her more and more. The basic architectural work was done, and Sally insisted that Nicole put her own ideas into the finishing touches. It was, as she said, going to be `our' home. Of course, Sally didn't ask me for my input. Like I always said, she was really smart... In general, things were going really good for me for once. Perfect, almost. Oh, a blip here and there, and that vague sense of aggressiveness wouldn't go away. All four of the women learned to stop asking for `frivolous' punishments. They quickly found out that I was entirely too willing to lay on the strap or to use my hand on a quivering bare bottom. I had even taken to disciplining Sally and Nicole on a regular basis, seemingly on a whim, for my pleasure. I know my behavior struck them as odd, no pun intended, but it was something I couldn't shake. I needed to work off this building aggression and their luscious bare bottoms and backs were my preferred method. That they didn't complain, well, I don't know what I would have done if they had. But in general, things were going great. I could tell just how great they were by the rapidity with which the whole thing turned to shit. It's a directly proportional relationship, in my experience. The better things are, the faster they go to Hell. I didn't do anything wrong, really! I swear! I just forgot what my Dad always told me about things and not fixing them if they weren't broken. Really, all I was trying to do was make things better. Honest! Anyway, Sally announced that our new home would be ready in four weeks. The carpet layers, painters and other craftsmen were under pain of death to have it done by that time. Listening to her describe the hubbub and chaos of the renovation, I reminded myself never to negotiate with that woman unless we were both naked at the time. She was tough, and the house would be finished exactly on schedule. Or else. Her announcement set into motion a long formulated plan of mine, and I immediately began making telephone calls to a few select friends. That's not where I screwed up. That happened the next day, that fateful day, a day that will live in infamy, a day that would ... - well, you get the idea. I approached Nicole when she was coming in from the grocery store. I knelt down in front of her and offered up my collar to her with both hands. Somewhat taken aback, she took the collar before she realized what it was and read the note attached to it. The note said simply, "Sally will help you." I had bowed down with my head to the floor, so I did not see what she did after that, but apparently Nicole had tried to fit the collar on her own neck, then around her waist before going to Sally. All I heard was the clip-clip of her heels on the tile floor. I couldn't make out the words that were said but I heard Sally's voice, at first patiently explaining, then asking, and finally pleading with Nicole. I did hear very plainly Nicole's repeated protestations of "NO!" and "I cannot do such a thing!" and "Absolutely not! I don't need to do this." That last one, and it was the last one, was particularly hurtful to Sally, having been aimed at what Nicole perceived had been a lack within Sally that had forced me to submit to her in that first time. It was about that time that I began to get a glimmer of just how badly I had screwed up this time. I had not only misjudged Nicole, I had managed to get Sally hurt at the same time. A clean sweep. Still, even after I heard the front door slam forcefully behind Nicole, I stayed in my kneeling position. I don't know how long it was until I heard the clip-clip of another set of heels on the floor. They stopped right in front of me. There was a long silence before she spoke, and I could hear Sally choosing her words with the utmost care. Not a good sign. Not a good sign at all. "Well," she said softly, "you have really torn it this time, Lar. How could you do such a ..." She stopped herself. She knew why I had offered to submit to Nicole and it hadn't been malicious on my part. But she was right, even if she didn't say it. It had been incredibly stupid. I should have talked to her about it first. She continued. "Nicole is gone, and I don't know if she is coming back." Her voice was steady, but I could hear her tears as they spattered on the tiles next to my head. I could also sense the turmoil in her, fearing that she had lost a friend, the ache of Nicole's harsh words and most of all, the panic of not knowing how to fix this mess or if it would work out in the end. Naturally, she blamed me. So did I. Sally dropped my collar next to me on the floor and walked away. There was a sound of finality to the `thud' as it hit and I knew I was in deep shit, not only with Nicole, but Sally, too. First things first. I got up and spent the next two days rebuilding my relationship with Sally. Not that she was more important, it was simply that I knew where she was. But in the backs of both our minds was the notable absence of Nicole. It was amazing how much a part of our relationship she had become. In fact, we both wondered if we could have a relationship without her. We found out in those two days that we could, but that it wasn't the same. We both understood it was better with her. After two days Sally urged me to go find Nicole and patch things between us as best I could, as she put it. I was underwhelmed with her confidence in my abilities, but even then she had more confidence in them than I did. So it was with huge butterflies in my stomach that I drove over to Nicole's apartment and knocked on her door. I hadn't felt this nervous since, well, I think I was 13 and her name was Mary Beth. She had laughed at me when I had attempted a clumsy kiss and I hadn't talked to another girl for 3 weeks, an eternity for a young boy afflicted with raging hormone disease. Nicole answered the door, looked at me silently and walked back into her apartment, leaving the door open. I took that to be an invitation to go in, so I did. I had never been in her apartment before and, in the long silence that ensued, I took the opportunity to look around. Like Nicole, the apartment had class. The furnishing were elegant, yet invited one to sit and enjoy the comfort they offered. There were no extraneous articles lying around, still there was the impression that the occupants were active, multi- faceted people. Simone's room was not what I expected, but it gave me an insight into her that I hadn't seen before. While frilly and feminine, and showing the signs of a girl in transition to womanhood, there was a distinctly masculine thread. Or maybe `butch', although I tended to shy away from that derogatory label. Whatever, Simone was definitely destined to be a woman in charge, on top. I stopped outside of Nicole's bedroom, hesitant for some reason to enter into her private sanctuary. I was still standing there, looking in from the door, when I felt Nicole's hand in mind. She urged me into the room with her, then urged me to sit beside her on the bed. It wasn't the place I would have chosen to begin our talk, but it looked like that decision was taken from me. We sat in silence for several moments, holding hands. I was getting more and more nervous until, in my usual tactful manner, I blurted out the first thing that came into my mind. For those seeking guidance, be advised that this is not a good thing to do. Usually. "Nicole, do you love me?" By the way she reacted, she apparently wasn't expecting that particular question. Well, if nothing else, at least I could still surprise her. "Yes, Lawrence. Yes, I do." "Show me." I unzipped my pants and hauled out my prick. Urging her to her knees in front of me, I took her head in both my hands and positioned her mouth at the tip. Nicole closed her eyes and opened her mouth when she was ready. I moved her head down so that the mushroomed shaped head of my hardened cock was in her mouth. He eyes flew open in surprise as I continued to move her head down, allowing her to engulf more and more of the shaft in her moist oral cavity. She had expected the Head Time position and a lecture, I guess. Or maybe an apology. Fuck it. Her lips automatically closed around the stiff bar of flesh and she increased the suction. Her tongue began caressing my cock. When I hit the back of her mouth, I eased her head back up to the flare. When I moved it back down, I went a little farther, forcing a bit of the swollen head down her throat. Then again, up and a little farther down. I kept a firm grip on her head, letting her know that I was in charge. I moved her a little further down the shaft each time until she indicated that she was at her limits. Still I kept a firm grip on her head and I pushed her just a little further on the next time, and she accepted it, giving herself up to my desires. I think it surprised her that she eventually was able to take the entire length. It surprised me. I fired a huge load down her throat, holding her nose firmly against my pubic hair as I emptied my balls. She had no choice but to swallow my offering. When I was finished, Nicole sat quietly at my feet, looking up at me with a mixture of fear and awe. She was unsure of what was going to happen next. For sure she hadn't expected this meeting to go like this. I looked down at my prick, still rarin' to go. "Again." Nicole leaned forward and allowed me to take her head in my hands. This time I entwined my fingers in her luxurious long hair, getting a solid grip, almost cruel. I was firmly in charge again, she was merely a receptacle for my seed. This move brought a fearful glimmer to her eyes, but she closed them with only the slightest flutter as she opened her mouth to accept me. The second time was a repeat of the first, but she hit bottom on the third stroke. The pace was slow and steady, long strokes up and down as I jacked off into her mouth. I was using her, and we both knew it. But she surrendered herself to this abuse, willing to let me make or break our relationship. It was touching, but I didn't give a shit. I wanted to cum. The long slow movements belied the sensations I was feeling. Nicole's mouth was fantastic. Her tongue action, the suction, the tightness, it was great. It didn't take long for the second surge of ejaculate to flood past her tonsils. She accepted this load with the same equanimity as the first, and again sat back, looking up at me. This time there was just a twinge of pride in her gaze. I was still hard. This was not surprising, as this had been the pattern lately. It was convenient at a time like this, but at other times it could be a real pain. Looking down at myself, I simply nodded at it. Nicole leaned forward once again and waited for me to guide her again. Instead, I leaned back, using my hands to brace myself behind me. She hesitated only briefly, then engulfed me, hitting bottom on the first stroke. She mimicked the pace of the first two blowjobs, using long and slow up and down movements of her head. Tentatively she brought her hands up to my groin and cupped my still swollen testicles. It was with the accurate realization that she would have a firm grasp on my happiness that I urged her to continue by widening my knees, giving her easier access to my jewels. She immediately understood that she had freedom to act as she pleased and both her hands and her mouth began a concerted effort to bring me pleasure. I was going to blow too soon at this rate, so in an effort to distract myself, I looked around the room. I don't know what prompted me to look, but as I examined them, I noticed signs of wear on the posts of the headboard. Like something had been tied around them. It was the wrong thing to see. I came, hard. This time she had a smirk, almost, as she sat back, although I think she was amazed at the volume of spunk she had had to swallow, especially after the size of the two prior ejaculations. I pointed out the wear on the bedposts. "Is this where he tied you up?" referring to Gary. She shook her head. "No. Nothing this private would have satisfied him." "What are these marks from then?" I didn't think Nicole would ever blush when speaking of sex, but she did now. "It's, uh, I, uh, sometimes..." "Spit it out, Nicole." Still bright red, she whispered, "I used to tie myself up sometimes." I thought about it. "Show me." I thought she was going to refuse, but she went over to a closet and pulled out an assortment of bondage equipment. She started to put it on herself, but I stopped her. "Are you usually dressed when you do it?" Sheepishly, but with a certain pride, she stripped, taking a bit more wiggle and waggle than necessary to accomplish the task. I didn't mind. When she was nude, Nicole attached a short chain to the footboard. The chain attached to the center of a long spreader bar. The two rings at the ends of the bar hooked onto the wide leather straps she had wrapped around her ankles. Two more straps wrapped around her wrists. Two ropes ending in hooks wound around the posts of the headboard. These had made the marks I had observed. The hooks fastened securely into the rings on the wristband. Everything was pre-measured to make the fit tight and uncomfortable. It would only be with difficulty that she could manage to get herself free. I watched her preparations silently, the stood by the side of the bed looking down at her. She looked delicious, helpless and I loved her. "Is that it?" "Sometimes I use things, uh, those penis things, dil- somethings." "Dildos" "Yes." "Anything else?" She looked worried, afraid she had missed something that I knew about. "No. Nothing else." "Good." With that I leaned over and adjusted the tension in the ropes binding her arms, pulling them tight with no slack. There was now no way she could release herself. She began trembling, not from fear, but excitement, as I removed my own clothes. I added some extra wiggles and waggles to my own strip show and she was grinning widely as she watched the last sock hit the floor. I used the opportunity of her helplessness to re- explore every inch of her luscious frame. Several times I brought her to the edge of her climax, increasing the sexual tensions within her to an almost unbearable level. When I did bury myself within her, her eyes rolled up into her head and she nearly deafened me with her scream of release. I thought that I should probably gag her the next time, if I wanted not to go deaf. What followed between us was a marathon fuck session. After the first two trysts, I released her from her bonds. When she was free, she attacked me aggressively, pushing me on my back and riding me like a cowgirl on a bronco. This one was for her pleasure and she took a lot of it. From there it evolved into a contest, two sexual predators intent on conquest, on winning. I sensed this was going to take a long time to finish, but it was something that we both needed. She needed me to dominate her, but she was going to fight me every wonderful inch of the way. A quick telephone call to Sally informed her of the situation, if not the details, and prompted the delivery of food. Discretely, she did not look in on us when she dropped off the supplies, but the stench of sex must have pervaded the whole apartment. There could have been no doubt of what was going on in Nicole's bedroom. Nicole and I fucked and sucked non-stop, with brief breaks for the necessary biological needs of eating, relieving and sleeping, with not much of the last. I had not given it a thought when this began where it might be going and it just kind of evolved between us, a sexual contest of sorts. We tore into each other for two days, but no one was keeping score. There would only be a winner and a, well, non-winner. Several times I would wake up from a catnap and find her busy between my thighs, trying to coax a freebie from me, trying to win. There were no rules in this contest, thus no cheating. Towards the end Nicole began rubbing her pelvis, now rough with a two-day growth of stubble, against my throbbing hard-on, trying to rub it raw. Of course, she may have gotten that idea from the sudden whisker rash on her thighs from my own beard when I ate her out. Back and forth, neither of us giving quarter. In all fairness, I was not using Dr. Wang's gadgets to cum or to control my ejaculations. When Nicole excited me to that point, I would spurt. She would gleefully clap her hands like a little girl, expecting me to concede, only to be delightfully disappointed and proceed on to the next round. It appeared we were both insatiable. Finally on the third day, I was on top of her, for once in the Missionary Position, ready to slip into her welcome depths once again. Nicole's hands came up to my chest, pushing me away. "Please, Master. No more." She had not referred to me as `Master' the entire time. "Please. Please." Her arms then reached around me and pulled me to her tightly. I wondered where she got the strength. I was pooped. She whispered softly into my ear. "Oh, Master. I had not thought it possible, that one man, even you, could give me more sex than I could take. I am sorry to fail you, Master, but I cannot bear another climax. I fear I would die. Forgive me. Forgive me." I eased my weight down upon her slight frame, pressing her into the firm mattress of her own bed. The sheets and blankets had been long since tossed to the floor, along with several dozen towels we had used to clean ourselves. The room would need a serious cleaning. "Nicole, my love. It is not my forgiveness you need to beg." She looked up at me with a puzzled look. "What you said to Sally, about her needing me to submit to her. That was not right, and you hurt her terribly by saying that. What we did was not for her benefit. She did not want to do it. She hated doing it, but I needed it." "Oh." Then, "Oh, Shit!" as she realized how she had hurt Sally unthinkingly. "Nicole, I made a mistake. I will make more, of that I am certain. I need you to understand that I am not perfect. If we are to live together as a family, all of us together, we can't be running out whenever you're mad or upset. Yes, you can leave to come here to get away to think when you need to. But don't you dare ever leave again with the intention of making me come after you and bring you back. I can't have that. There are too many of you for me to chase after," I joked, taking a bit of the sting out of my admonition of her. "Yes, Master." Her answer said it all. We stayed like that, falling asleep with me on top of her. She made no complaint, even hugging me tightly to keep me on top when I moved to ease the pressure of my weight on her. She wanted the feeling of literally being under me. Later that afternoon, I carried Nicole out to my car, as hers had mysteriously been returned to Sally's house. I carried her into Sally's house as well, where Sally immediately took over her care and recuperation. I had no idea what she was doing, but I heard mutual sobbing, along with several exclamations of disbelief and wonder. Lots of giggling came down the hallway from our bedroom, where the two were ensconced. I was collapsed in the recliner in my office when Sally finally stepped in. I looked up at her. "Will she be OK?" Sally came over to me and sat on the arm of the chair. She then deliberately slid her wonderful ass into my lap and wiggled more than necessary to get comfortable. "In a couple of days. She's very tender, in, uh, a couple spots. Until then, well, you'll just have to settle for second best." I jumped up, dumping her on the floor. She looked up in shocked surprise. "You will never be second." I was almost angry with her and I think she realized she had tread on a touchy subject. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that." I stood over her, half angry, half besotted with her beauty. And totally aroused. It amazed even me. Especially after the last two days. I slowly lowered my pants and stepped out of them. I looked down at her, a crazed glint in my eye. "Sally, do you love me?" She staggered back on the floor, recognizing where this was headed. "Yes, Larry. Yes, I do," she echoed what Nicole had said. "Show me," I said, settling back down into my chair. She let me take her head firmly between my hands before we began. It was long and slow. Chapter 57 For the next two weeks the smell of seared flesh and feminine squeals drifted up from the cellar. I had a special project for Simone and Janey and they needed to get it right the first time. I had my reasons. Sally and Nicole, at first alarmed by the screams and the smell, were kept at bay and in the dark. Simone and Janey were sworn to absolute secrecy and, I'm proud to say, they kept their word. After the two teenagers had completed their practice each day, I did my own. Again, I had my reasons for getting this right the first time. When not practicing in the cellar, working or keeping my two fianc‚es sexually satisfied, and they were becoming as insatiable as myself it seemed, I was busy setting up the next Family Day. This one would be special, well, they all were, but this one would be a one-of-a-kind special day. I made several trips to The Guild by myself, bringing home most of the packages myself and hiding them in the garage, forgoing the usual delivery. I wanted this to be a surprise. Finally, after a very, very long two weeks, the morning arrived. It was breakfast in bed for my two darlings, cooked by two very able nubile and excited teenaged assistants and myself. I took extra care with Sally and Nicole's grooming that morning, shaving them myself, bringing them to shuddering climaxes time and again with my talented fingers. The vibrating razor, unnecessary for that short length of stubble, was liberally used as well, so I had a little help. Nothing was too good for them today. Janey and Simone helped me with their mothers' hair. I could never quite get the knack of that French weave, and, as Sally and Nicole saw that particular hairstyle being applied, both got into a submissive state of mind. They didn't know what was planned for today, but they had been given their first clue. I had laid out the teens' clothing in their rooms while they were braiding hair. Coming back to the master bath I told them that they were to kneel the women at the end of the bed, go get dressed, then dress their respective mothers in the outfits in the boxes on our bed. Then they were to wait for the music. From there they would have to follow my cues. I got a couple of strange looks, but no questions. I was a little surprised, but I guess they were getting used to me and figured they would go along for the ride. Besides, they had had fun before. Why not now? Besides, what choice did they really have? I dressed in the special attire I had for the day, and walked barefoot into the living room just as the doorbell rang. The first guests had arrived. Thorny, our old family friend, stood at the door with his wife, Margaret, and his daughter, Judith. I shook his hand and hugged the two women. The women looked radiant and not as hard-edged as I remember. Maybe it was just the memory of the pain of bringing Judith's possessive attentions to a gentle end that made me mentally picture the mother and daughter as witches with switchblades. Still, today they looked and acted softer or something. Damn, if Judith had acted like that back then, who knows...? They had a dozen questions, most unspoken, again uncharacteristic of these particular women. I saw both women hesitate before speaking, looking to Thorny for permission. What?!!! Nah, it couldn't be.... Whatever the case, Thorny seemed to be in charge, at least for the moment, and he had the discretion not to pester me with questions. Even as nervous as I was, I still noticed that though the women were as mystified as Thorny as to why they were here, they kept their questions to themselves. I had only asked them to stop by for a little get together, which was unusual as it had been a long time since the last time. Surprisingly, Judith did not linger over me, but stayed glued to her father's side. I don't know if I was more surprised or disappointed. Well, not disappointed, but, well, you know. I wondered if I had lost my appeal, or something for a brief moment, then remembered my four devoted women in the next room. Judith had never been one to be shy, just the opposite. I raised my eyebrow at Thorny across the room and nodded my head at Judith. Beaming with pride he put his arm around her in a not-so-fatherly manner and mimed "Rosen's Clinic" back at me. His wife saw his action and just snuggled into his side, no evidence of jealousy whatsoever. My God! I'd created a monster! The next to arrive were Mac and CeCe. Mac was carrying a battered aluminum briefcase, which he handed to me as he came in. "Ah, Gee, Mac. You shouldn't have," I joked. He looked at me kind of funny, "I didn't. It's not mine and CeCe said it isn't hers. It showed up with you and Simone, so, here it is. And you're welcome, by the way." On the way by, he whispered to me, "Is she here? Simone?" God, he still had it bad for the young girl. It would have been cute if he had been a teenager. He was wearing her gold chain, too. I nodded that she was and he went into the house grinning like a puppy. CeCe wasn't happy, all of a sudden. I stuck the briefcase in the hall closet and forgot about it. With Mac's arrival, the party took off. Not that he was loud, but Mac was used to playing to audiences the size of Yankee Stadium, so the living room with six people in it was a little small. He took an instant liking to Thorny and the two of them were swapping stories like old friends. CeCe and Judith small talked and seemed friendly, but it wasn't a mix that would last long. Bala and Amud arrived on the heels of the Rosens and the Wangs. I hadn't met Dr. Wang's daughter before, so it was a pleasure to meet Luci Wang. I immediately sensed there was something about her that seemed familiar. It struck me even as I saw her walking up the path, something about the way she moved that raised a flag of recognition. I knew that I had seen her, of someone very much like her before, but given that I was the host, and that the guests were just arriving, I put any niggling suspicions I had in the back of my mind. Regardless, she was an exceptionally striking lady. Gertie and Marion, my sister, drove up together. Somehow, the fact that they had connected to come over together disturbed me. These two women held way too much power and influence over me, and even though I trusted each implicitly, I didn't trust them together. Separation of powers, and all that. I had asked Marion, specifically, to bring her judge's robe, but not her seal of office. I wanted her to be officious, but not official. She laughed and agreed. Beth, the young curious limo driver was the last to arrive. I nearly had to drag her into the living room when she recognized, if not the people, the power in the room. However, once she was introduced around, she fit in easily. She and CeCe hit it off, as they both did with Bala. It was good to see a plan come together. Just as things were going along nicely, I got everyone's attention, to catcalls - mainly from Mac and Thorny - of `Where's the booze?' and `Where's the food?' and other extraneous comments. "Friends," I addressed them once the noise and heckling had died down, "I've asked you here today to witness a ceremony. Now, I could go on and on about it, but I think it will be pretty self evident. You will notice there are no chairs. I want you all to move about to get the best view. I would ask that you keep any comments quiet and not to interfere with the ceremony." I should mention the room had been cleared of all furniture with the exception of two bolsters and a small table. The contents of the table were covered with a small cloth. After this mystifying opening monologue, I went to the wall unit and pushed "Play" on the CD player. It was queued up and ready and suddenly, with the first opening notes, the purpose of the `ceremony' became evident. It was The Wedding March that came booming from the speakers in the walls, down the halls and into the bedroom where the four women had been anxiously waiting for their cue. If the music had electrified the small gathering, then the appearance of my four beauties took that energy to a geometrically higher level. Janey and Simone came into the room first, leading their mothers by means of white satin leashes attached to white leather collars, although the collars were not yet visible to the guests. In fact, because of the hooded robes they were wearing, the only thing you could see of Sally and Nicole were their bare feet and their very sheer pantaloons, or harem pants. Janey and Simone were blushing so much you would have thought that they were the intended brides. I think, however, that their outfits may have been the cause of their embarrassment. These were the outfits that had caused me the most trouble, getting the material just right, then the fit. But it had been worth it. The girls were walking wet dreams, the perfect counterpoint to what I intended for this unusual bit of ceremony. The material their body suits were made of was translucent and when stretched, even lightly, became almost transparent. Janey's outfit was a skin-tight body suit in her shade of blue that looked as if it was painted on her trim body. Simone's attire, in a lightly silvered tone, was just as tight. The girls were as good as naked and had obviously looked at each other and themselves. Thus the reason for the blushing. But they carried themselves with pride and dignity, following my silent directions as I pointed at the bolsters to lead their mothers through the small gathering. As the music faded, they helped the two hooded figures kneel on the soft cushions. I indicated they should stay by the side of the two women. "Janey, will you speak for you mother?" Grinning, she answered without hesitation, "Yes, I will." Turning to Simone, I asked the same question. "Simone, will you speak for your mother?" Before answering, I saw her glance briefly at her mother. A barely perceptible nod was followed by, "Yes, I will." I took off my robe, leaving me in what would best be described as pajama bottoms, only without the gap in the front. My arousal would be obvious enough without it escaping through the nearest convenient opening. I walked over to Sally and helped her to stand up. "Do you agree to be dressed like your Master, Sally?" I could see the alarm in Janey's eyes until she linked with her mother. I had promised not to humiliate them in public. I didn't intend to start now. Sally seemed to sense that and sent her reassurances to Janey. "She does." With that, I reached over and loosened the silk belt that was holding her hooded robe closed. Gently I lifted her hood and slowly drew the robe away from her, exposing her nakedness to the guests. There was absolute silence as they saw my intended bride. Well, except for Amud, who muttered a phrase that, loosely translated, meant, `Praise Allah, I can die a happy man.' He always had been obsessed with Sally's tits. I repeated the question to Nicole. Simone did not wait for an answer, and immediately answered, "She does." I removed Nicole's robe with all the reverence I had Sally's. Her naked beauty was the rival and equal of Sally's. Mac muttered, `Holy Shit' in a voice that, for him, was a whisper. In this small room, we all heard it and joined in the laughter. He was right and it was a happy occasion. Sally and Nicole were silent because they were gagged. Special marinated leather balls filled their mouths, held daintily in place with white silk ribbons. White leather cuffs linked their wrists behind their backs. The white slave collars still had the leashes attached, now hanging down and bisecting their naked breasts. The low riding harem pants, transparent and white, made it very apparent they wore nothing underneath. The only other things they had on were the diamond hearts I had given each of them, dangling from the holes pierced through their left nipples. The sunlight from the windows caught those carbon-based baubles and sent the refracted rays dancing around the room as if in celebration of the event. They were the most beautiful pair of women I had ever seen. And I was going to marry them both. Moving to the small table I removed the covering. Janey recognized the tools lying their first and immediately understood what was going to happen. They had been practicing with the damn things for two weeks. I was surprised they hadn't put it together sooner. Simone was not far behind and I think she almost balked at what she thought she was going to have to do. Thus, she was very relieved when I went up to Sally, removed her heart from her nipple and placed it on a chain that I then fastened around her neck. It nestled in its new location in the valley between her tits. "Sally, you are my love. Will you accept my mark?" Janey answered, "She will. With all her love." I glanced at the girl, ready to tell her not to ad-lib. She just nodded at her mother and shrugged, an action, I must add that sent chills down the spine of every male and a few females present. By shrugging her shoulders, she tightened the fabric along every nook and cranny of her body and the material covering her charms just disappeared. For the briefest of moments she was delightfully exposed. Taking the tool that had caused so many squeals in the cellar, I fit it to Sally's left nipple and pulled the trigger. The sterile needle knifed through the tender flesh in the blink of an eye leaving another perforation in her nipple, at cross purposes to the original hole. The two tunnels now formed an `X.' While my hands were still steady I retrieved a set of rings from the table. One was a smaller diamond heart circumscribed by a platinum loop. The other was an emerald `L,' also circumscribed by a platinum loop. These rings would be my mark, my sign of ownership, a sign of her total surrender and commitment to me. I slipped the two interlocking wires through the two tunnels. Then I took the second tool from the table. This was the tool that had caused the smell of burning flesh, or at least its predecessors had. Until I happened upon this small laser welder, we had been singeing more than hair with the butane and electric soldering irons. The laser technique was still exceedingly hot and burned like the dickens, but at least the damage to the surrounding flesh was minimal. If you did it right. I quickly soldered the ends of the rings together, permanently affixing my mark onto Sally's nipple. The practice paid off, as the welds were indistinguishable from the rest of the wire loops. When I turned to Nicole, I didn't need to ask the question. She stepped forward and literally thrust her tit at me. Smiling, I asked the question anyway and Simone, relieved she wasn't going to have to use the piercing tool, cheerfully agreed. I removed the large diamond heart from her breast, put it around her neck, and repeated the process of placing my mark on her as well, using a sterile needle, of course. Neither woman had flinched during the process. I only hoped I could be so brave when my turn came, and, to the surprise of Janey and Simone, my turn would come sooner than they expected. Like, it was now. Thinking the ceremony over, Janey had stepped back a bit. She was not prepared for my next question. "Sally, will you place your mark on me?" Simone, closer to the small table, could see what was still lying on it. I could see her shaking her head at Janey, trying to tell her `No.' I guess she thought that if Janey didn't do it, she wouldn't have to. She was young. But Janey wasn't looking in her direction, didn't see the warning and, listening to her mother on her link, said, "Yes, she will." When I knelt on the bolster in front of Sally, Janey looked at me blankly. I sent her a picture of the piercing tool and the message, `Just like we practiced.' She realized way too late what I wanted her to do and started to bolt. I think it was her mother talking to her over their link that stopped her. I picked up on some it, something about ruining her special day and telling her grandchildren about it or something like that. It sounded kind of threatening, to me. Whatever, it did the trick and Janey reluctantly picked up the piercing tool and plunged the needle at the practiced angle through my left nipple. That sucker hurt like Hell! But that was nothing like the fire that burned in my chest when Janey soldered the loop circumscribing the emerald `S' for Sally. Janey had done it perfectly, but still, I don't think guys were meant to go through all that piercing stuff. Way too painful, and I don't care if that doesn't sound macho or manly. Even now, that fucker hurts when I think about it. My eyes were watering and, wonder of wonders, I got to do it all again for Nicole! Which Simone did for her flawlessly - thank God for all that practice with those pigs' ears - and I did and, No, I did not yelp, cry, winch, moan or flinch. I did just about wet my pants, but I escaped even that indignity by the narrowest of margins. With the ceremony over, I gathered the leashes of my two brides and led the assembled guests to the back terrace by the pool, where CeCe's catering company had, unbeknownst to her, set up a small feast, complete with open bar. The wait staff was long gone so there were no strange eyes to feast upon the naked charms of my lovelies. Marion, seeing her moment, had slipped out of the room and changed into her robe. When she came in, there were gales of laughter. She looked for all the world like a huge blob of cotton candy. The robe she had chosen to wear was bright flamingo pink. Definitely not official. Grinning over at me, she held her arms up for silence. "I think we all recognize what a momentous day this is. Girls, there is one less eligible man out there, God damn it, and, even though he is my baby brother, that just makes it tougher for the rest of us." Feminine voices called out "Hear! Hear!" and "You go, girl!" "On the other hand, as his big sister, I have to take some family pride in the fact that no single woman could reel him in. Nope, not MY little brother. Chauvinist pig that he is, girls, he feels he needs two, count `em, two of us to keep him satisfied. As usual, he's going to get his way, so I guess, if I have to, as his big sister, I will give my blessings to this heathen occasion." The assembled guest clapped and cheered raucously at her little speech. I thought it was a bit much. "Seriously, Larry, it's about damn time! We're all happy for you, Sally and Nicole. You never did do things the way everybody else did, which is what makes you special. All of you. Good luck..." she finished, then said wryly as kind of an afterthought, "... you're going to need it!" Her upstaging finished she came over to the three of us and hugged. Marion and my wives were all crying, something that seems obligatory for women at weddings. I guess men shouldn't make fun of women for crying at weddings as we all have an instinctual gut reaction of panic and horror on those same occasions. It just isn't considered socially acceptable to run from the church or courthouse screaming with shit in our pants.... I took the leashes and tied one to each end of the buffet table. I had asked to have a small space set off by ribbons at each end and the two naked women now stood in those special areas, erotic bookends on display. Seeing what I had done with the women, Marion took it upon herself to be the first to `kiss' the brides. Going up first to Sally, she did a cheek to cheek with her. I think she murmured something in her ear as Sally nodded to her as they separated. Marion then cupped Sally's left breast with her hand, ostensibly examining the rings. I thought she took a little longer than necessary to look at them, but that might have just been me. Marion then marched over to Nicole with a defiant step and did the cheek to cheek thing with her, too. Nicole also nodded and, if I thought she examined Sally's rings for a long time, Marion really did take a long time with Nicole's. When I asked her about that later, she told me she thought she should take advantage of the opportunity to cop a feel while she could. It might never come again. That stunned me, as I had never thought of my sister with other women, though a couple of other pieces of the puzzle named `Marion' fell into place if that were true. I put that thought aside for a later time. I walked around the terrace, mingling with the guests, introducing those that hadn't met. Thorny found me and pulled me aside. "So, my boy, finally tying the knot, eh? Good, good. Good to settle down, start a family..." "Thorny, this is me you're talking to. Start a family? Good God, man, I have two teenaged girls in the house! I don't need more!" "Oh, yes, that, that... Hmmm, well, I suppose." The man was pre-occupied with something. He was acting like a doddering old fool and that wasn't like him at all. He was one of the sharpest legal minds on the East Coast, even at his age. I took a stab. "So, you took my advice and talked to the Rosen's about the appointments. How did that work out?" The light returned to his eyes, a gleam I hadn't seen in years. He damn near looked young again. "Oh, son, I'm sorry. I've been so busy, I've forgotten to thank you. Best thing that ever happened. Should've done it years ago." I didn't remind him that it had only recently become available. He continued. "You know, Margaret and I have always been a little, um, frisky, and, well, about a week or two after their appointment, I happened to have her across my knee. In the bedroom. Well, you know how it is. I playfully swatted her bare behind and she froze. I thought I had hit her too hard, but then she said `Harder, Thorny. Do it again, harder.' I damn near shot off in my shorts. I did and we had a night I had been dreaming of for years. A real fantasy come true. "That night changed our entire lives, son. She's over my knee every night now, and two - three times a day. She can't get enough. She even bought one of those horse whip things, a crop or something for me to use on her, and all kind of other fancy stuff..." He grinned knowingly at me. "...but you know all about those things, I see," nodding at my bound brides. "So things have been pretty lively around the house lately?" "Just the opposite, son! The little wife is as quite and docile as a lamb. A whole new woman. Judith, too, ..." he stopped himself short, but he knew he had slipped up. "I've been meaning to ask you about her. She seems, well, softer somehow. How did she take to the implants?" Thorny pulled me farther away from the others and looked around before speaking in a lower voice. "Don't say anything about it to her, Lawrence, but she's the same as her mother." I raised my eyebrows at that, but kept quiet. I wanted to see where he would go. "She came in from another disastrous date one night. She had screwed up yet another relationship. You weren't the last, but you were the best. We know it wasn't your fault, son, and we know now how hard it must have been for you. "Anyway, she was carrying on, wailing and screeching about this and about that and, well, I had had it. I hauled her ass over my knee, flipped up her little skirt and whacked her a good one. Didn't even have to lower those flimsy little panties of hers. She was as good as naked. I just whacked her a good one. "She stiffened out straight as a board, gave a little squeal and shook for a minute or two. Then I'll be damned if she didn't raise her tight little ass higher and say `Do it again, Daddy. Please?' in a tiny little girl's voice that made me hotter than a two-dollar pistol. Holy Shit, Lawrence! She gave me a blowjob that night! She just kept saying `Thank you, Thank you, Daddy.' She never called me `Daddy' before, mind you, and it kept me hard as a rock. She noticed my, um, condition and went down on her knees, undid my pants and swallowed me. It was fantastic. "Anyway, since then, she hasn't gone out on another date, just stays home with Mother and me. If Mother isn't over my knee, she is. It may be her youth, but she is more demanding than Mother." "So, she's not a virgin anymore?" I ventured. "Only in the technical sense, son. She prefers it up the bottom, and I don't need an accident at my age, so we do it that way. Mother seems happy with that, helps out all the time, keeps her occupied with that whip thingy when I can't get it hard anymore. Damn it all, they help each other get me ready, and if I can't, well, I've caught them more than once doing each other. That sure as Hell gets me hard. Damn, just thinkin' about it does. Where are they? I could use a little comfort, I think." I noticed he'd lost a lot of weight. Must be all that exercise. "Thorny, I'm glad you're happy, but I'd like you to meet someone first. He works with the Rosens and he can help you with that little problem." With my arm around his shoulder, I guided him over and introduced him to Dr. Wang. A quick word about setting up an appointment for the Judge that had gotten him into the U.S., and Dr. Wang's face lit up in excitement. I moved on, leaving them chatting. Thorny could get comforted later. As I walked away, I felt a light touch on my bare arm. I turned to face Luci Wang. She looked up at my face intently, looking for something, like a sign of recognition or something. I was beginning to get a bad feeling around her, and I had survived a relatively long time in a bad business by paying attention to those feelings. She deliberately extended one long slender finger at the rings on my chest and flicked them with her fingernail. The pain shot straight to my groin, and I think I grunted. The hairs on my neck stood on end, as well. I was ready to fight, but I didn't know why. "Nice," she said. She continued to flick the rings slowly back and forth and, as much as I wanted to stop her and stop the pain, I seemed paralyzed by her beauty, unable to move. She looked up at me finally with her black liquid eyes. "You have made my father a happy man." "All I did was help him get his papers. They would have come through eventually." "Oh, that, too. Thanks. I was referring to his implants and your last check-up. He was very excited after your visit last month. You are the very first man that he has seen that he could turn up. And an American, too! Mostly you American men are all talk, too soft to really get all the women you brag about." "Wait a minute," I interrupted her diatribe, "you said he turned them `up.' What did you mean by that?" She looked surprised. "He didn't tell you?" "I understood something about `the more, the better,' but that was all I could make out." Luci gave a quick laugh. "That's all you understood? I thought your Chinese was better than that. You rusty?" More hairs on the back of my neck went up. Very few people, living that is, knew I spoke Chinese. The rest were dead, mostly because I made them that way. Luci Wang knew way too much about me and I didn't like it. "My Chinese is fine, thank you. He was speaking English." That set her to giggling, a rather incongruous action for the sophisticated facade she wore. "Oh, God. Now I understand. Even I can't understand his En-grish," she mimicked. "So what did you mean, he turned what `up?'" She looked up at me with a knowing grin. "Been feeling a bit horny, even driven to sex, lately? Obsessed with it, the darker side of things? Been a bit more aggressive, maybe? Although," she turned to look at my wives, "I don't see any recent marks. The little girls, maybe?" I nodded as she went along, then shook my head at the last question. "So, is this permanent, or what? "Oh, that's the more, the better part. Poppy's implants are quite sophisticated. He just adjusted it to help you produce more testosterone. A lot more. As you know, the way the body functions is that everything is in balance, even. Another hormone or two normally balances the effects of the testosterone. You will make more of the balancing hormones, eventually. But until then, you need to work off the excess build up. Until it is balanced you will be more aggressive, mean, even. Although you will still care about your partners, it will be secondary to your own pleasure. I must congratulate you as you must have been doing OK, or you - or they - would be dead or severely injured by now. Keeping the excess worked off will allow the other hormones to build up and balance your system again." "But why turn them up in the first place?" She shrugged and quipped, "Because he can? Seriously, I think it is for better performance, and not just sexually. Testosterone has many effects on the human body, not all of it sexual. You'll find that you're faster, smarter, more alert, more attuned to your surroundings, not to mention sexier to women. Your pheromone production is way up, too, in case you couldn't tell. There's not a limp nipple in the crowd! "Even a little increase in the testosterone blood levels makes a huge difference in your overall performance, and you got bumped up a lot. Most people don't know it, but it is also the male hormone that seems to have the most to do with being sensitive, although it is mostly attributed as a female trait. So you may find that you are more sensitive, too." (Author's note: The medical facts stated in the preceding paragraphs, like the rest of this story, are totally bullshit. But it sounds about right, doesn't it guys?) Well, that explained a lot. "What's the best way to work off the aggressions?" Again she shrugged. "Whatever works. Brutality, sex, exercise, whatever. Mainly, if you can get the little man hard from doing it, if it excites you, that's good. But looking ahead to your honeymoon, you should be OK. Just don't go on a long trip, unless you plan on banging them from takeoff to landing in one of those tiny little bathrooms on the planes. The other passengers might object." I ignored her sarcasm. "How long will this go on like this?" "You should be getting close. It's supposed to take about a month or so. Theoretically, it should just take one big final orgy - or trying to satisfy two horny brides on their honeymoon - to bring your system back into balance. Again, with what you're facing the next couple of days or so, that shouldn't be a problem." "And after that? Will there be any side effects?" "Oh, you should go back to pretty much normal, kind of." "Kind of?" Suddenly she got evasive. "Well, you may find you're a little more aggressive, but, well, maybe not." "That's not real helpful, Luci." "Can't help it. You're the first human he's ever turned up. But if it's any help, a couple of the dogs actually survived for almost a year." "What?!!" "Sorry, that was a bad joke. Really, you're the first, so all we can offer are theories. Sorry." At least she was honest. Some of the government doctors that had worked on me hadn't been. Gertie was an exception. I looked around for the good doctor and found her talking animatedly with the Rosens. I should have known they would find each other. I walked over to see how they were doing. Gertie saw me coming. "I swear, Mr. Sampson, I swear," she started, shaking her head in amazement. "Do you not know any normal people?" "Define `normal,' Gertie," I grinned back. It was an old argument. "Screw you, you pervert!" she shot back. "You didn't tell me you knew Helga and her daughters." I almost retorted that she hadn't asked me, and she hadn't, specifically, but I was still required to report all significant contacts. I relied heavily on the `significant' issue. Damn. How did this woman always get me on the defensive so fast? "I told you about Dr. Wang," I lamely responded. "Hrumph!" she fumed. "The single most important research team in female sexual mechanochemical physiology, and you have them stuck in some back alley orgasm factory. I should have known you would find a way to commercialize their work and profit from it." She was really furious. "When I found them, they were starving. The academic community, your community, Gertie, had shunned them, turned them out without a dime. Screw you, too. And for that matter, I don't make a fucking dime from them. Go ahead. Ask them." I could be pissed, too. That took her back, then grinning, she said, "Dr. Wang said you would be a little feisty. Feeling better now that you've beat up on a helpless old woman?" Laughing sheepishly along with the small group, I told her, "Gertie, you always make me feel better, but you have never been helpless, and you're damn sure not old. But I'm doing OK. Thanks for caring." I meant that last part. She pulled me aside. "I have been meaning to talk with you about Simone." "You're still going to be able to keep her for a couple of days?" I interrupted. I thought I knew where she was headed and I hoped to deter her. No such luck with this woman. "Of course. Nice try, though. No, I mean, don't you think this is a bit much for such an impressionable young lady. All this nudity and kinky stuff? Just look at her - no, don't! She's stretching for that baseball player again ..." "That's Mac Washington. You met him at the hospital, Gertie. I also believe you made a bet against him. And lost." "...I know who he is and I know he has a high school crush on that girl. The poor man can't tie his shoes when she's around, much less put a sentence together. And you have her dressed like that! My God, Lawrence, what will she think?" "I don't know, Gertie. You tell me. You've spent a lot of time with the young lady. What does she think? Will this affect her adversely? Has it? Have I harmed her?" Gertie stopped short and glowered at me. "God damn you, Mr. Sampson. You know very well that Simone is one of the most perfectly well adjusted young ladies I have ever met, and I have met quite a few. That is what is so infuriating about you. I have had to throw out more of my pet feminist theories as a result of your successful, if highly unorthodox therapy of her, if you can call it that. You have broken every rule in the books, and I wrote a couple of them. I am so frustrated with you and your goddamned sexual obsessions that I am about ready to give up my work at the Institute and focus full time on you." I had a moment of very real terror. "Oh, FUCK no! Not that, Gertie. Please." I had a sudden horrifying vision of me being strapped under a huge microscope by a heavily perfumed woman in a white lab coat. "I do believe you mean that, Mr. Sampson. Just keep that in mind, in your handling of her. She is very special to me, mister, and I won't stand to see anything untoward happen to her." "Yes, ma'am. And Gertie?" "Yes?" "Same here. When she's with you? You keep her safe, too, OK?" She paled slightly at the implied threat, but nodded her agreement. I saw CeCe standing next to Sally, and CeCe didn't look happy. Again. When I looked over at Mac and Simone, I could see why. Simone was still entertaining Mac, winding him and unwinding him around her little finger. God, she was good at that. I walked over and stood behind CeCe. I put my arms around her and held her lightly by her forearms. Pulling her into me, I turned until we were both facing Mac and Simone. We watched them for a while, and it was quite a show. Simone had total command of the man, something no opposing pitcher had been able to achieve all season. Mac was still on a tear and the ballparks were packed. He had been a real draw and I was happy for my friend. He and I were both concerned about the state of his marriage, however, and CeCe's bad case of insecurity and jealousy. I had spent long hours listening to him as he tried to work out his relationship with CeCe. He was at the end of his rope. "Do you love him, CeCe?" I asked the trembling woman. Sally was watching us closely, and I spoke loudly enough for her to hear, too. CeCe just nodded. As she did so, I felt, with a jolt, the intensity of her feelings. The woman was so jealous, so insecure, so out of balance that the fear of losing Mac had reached schizophrenic proportions. At first I was shocked, as CeCe was the first woman outside of my family I with whom I had this strong of a link. It helped me understand a lot about her, and I was more confident in what I had planned. But it wasn't going to be easy. I turned us slightly. "CeCe? Watch Bala and Amud." Bala and Amud were in conversation with Janey. Amud's eyes never reached Janey's face, being riveted on her chest. He, too, had finally noticed the striking resemblance between mother and daughter. "Do you see her hand?" At first CeCe shook her head, then gasped as she realized that Bala's hand was buried deep in Amud's pants pocket. "Do you think she's holding him back or encouraging him?" Bala was laughing and smiling with Janey, encouraging her to move in ways that stretched the fabric of her body suit to transparency. When she was successful, she would look lovingly up at Amud, enjoying his enjoyment. "She's egging Janey on, isn't she?" CeCe nodded. "But, but they're married, aren't they?" "Yes, and they love each other very much, but no more than you and Mac do, I would wager." We watched them a while longer. "Bala has discovered a secret. Would you like to know what it is?" "Y-y-yes," she stammered, not being able to tear her eyes from the sight of Bala's hand calmly jacking Amud off right there in front of us. "Amud loves her." "Huh?" "Amud loves her. That's the secret she discovered." "I don't get it." "Bala knows that it doesn't make any difference if Amud looks at - or screws, for that matter - another woman. He will still love her. Always. It's the same with Mac. He loves you. Funny thing is, only you can make him stop loving you." "You're saying I should let MacArthur fuck around?" "Would that change how he feels about you?" "I don't know. I guess not." "Right. But it would change how you feel about him, wouldn't it." "Well, yeah, I guess." "Bala understands that. Those two are a team. If she feels good, he feels good, and vice versa." "So I should let MacArthur fuck around." "No, CeCe, you're missing the point. I'm not saying you should let him. I'm saying you should help him, if that's what he wants." "But..." I could sense the tears welling up in her eyes as that strange new idea fought against years of tradition and jealousy. I wondered if it would prevail. "Look at Sally. She and I were perfect and then she brought in Nicole. Now it is better. Ask her, if she hasn't told you already. If she can do it, you can. You know it." "So you're telling me I should help him screw that girl?" "Simone? No. Absolutely not. If you do, and he does, you'll have to answer to me. No. Not her." I pulled CeCe in a bit tighter. "CeCe, that's just a schoolboy crush. They met under very traumatic conditions. He was really just being nice, just being Mac, and she charmed the socks of him. Believe me, I was there. He never knew what hit him. I could almost say it wasn't his fault, but he does fawn over her so, and it makes her feel, well, giddy. She is as infatuated as he is, but they both know it would be a terrible mistake to consummate the relationship. "I do have someone in mind for you two, though." I turned us a couple of degrees. "Her." "The waif?" I laughed. "Yes. The young girl, Beth. She'd be perfect for you. And I think she would appeal to Mac, too. She's a student at the university in your city, driving cars for a living. Hard working, cute, curious..." "Curious?" "Yeah, well, she saw some things one night and expressed an honest curiosity about them. You should invite her for the weekend. In fact, tell her to come with you. Who knows, you might even get to use some of your special toys." CeCe stiffened. "How..? Did MacArthur tell you about them?" I tightened my grip on her. "No, Mac didn't. I guessed just now. And I am also guessing about you using them on him, too. Believe me, CeCe, that's not how to get him to do you. That is what you want, isn't it?" I was still sort of guessing, but the impression I got over the link was really strong. "You bastard," she spit out quietly. "Sally said you could do that sometimes. You're in there, in my head, aren't you!" "Am I right?" "Yes, damn it! Yes!" "So invite her home for the weekend, let him `help' you train her. Let him get a taste for it. He'll come around. I'll talk to him, too, if you want, give him some encouragement." "You'd do that? You really think that will work?" "I don't know. A lot of it depends on you. You'd have to share him with her. Could you do that? If it meant saving your marriage?" I let my arms completely encircle her and hugged her tightly. "I love that man like my brother. I know you are very special to him, the most important thing in his life, even baseball. That makes you special to me. I can't guarantee it, but I think it might work. Will it be easy? No. Will it be interesting? You bet. And just think of the alternative, CeCe. Your jealousy will tear you two apart." I kissed her on the cheek as I released her and turned to Sally. I was totally unprepared for the huge hug CeCe laid on me and just about fell over. She squeezed me tightly, whispered `Thanks'. I watched as she made a beeline for Beth. I looked at Sally and she just shook her head. She had heard the whole conversation. It was hard to laugh with a gag in your mouth, and I don't think she quite believed I had pulled it off. Well, we'd see. "Did you have a link with CeCe, too, love? Is that why you're such good friends?" Sally's shocked look gave me my answer. She had not linked with CeCe before or now and she had not picked up on my link with her. Interesting. I wondered if that had anything to do with the increased sensitivity Luci Wang had mentioned. I walked over to stand next to Nicole. Amud and Bala came by to wish us happiness. I watched Bala eyeing Nicole's naked breasts and it was a very lustful look. She brazenly grinned at me when she saw I had caught her looking and laughed. "Lawrence, my friend," said Amud. "You have been studying our ways, correct? I thought I noticed several aspects of the royal wedding ceremony today, no?" I was pleased he had noticed. "Yes, and a few things from some other of your ceremonies. I hope you don't mind." "On the contrary, my friend, we are honored." He paused, and posed for effect. "The gags, though, they are a nice touch. Gets the marriage off on the right foot." I burst out with a guffaw. I couldn't believe it! Amud had made a joke, and in English! Amazing. Even better, Bala didn't think it was funny. Oh, it was too precious. Simone dragged Gertie over, excited that she would be spending the next few days with her. "Papa, how many days can I stay with her?" "Oh, I don't know. A couple. A week." "Papa! I need to know how many pairs of panties to pack." "Why, Simone, you don't wear panties around here. Don't tell me that mean woman makes you do things you don't want to." Simone drew herself up haughtily. "Gertrude treats me like a lady. A lady wears panties." Then she giggled. "But I am not sure I should leave you alone here. Are you sure you don't want Janey and I here to bring you food, water," she paused, "Oxygen?" What's this? Is everyone a comedian now? "Ooof! Just for that, I'll have Gertie take you shopping for clothes." Both women blanched at that idea and protested vehemently as they backed away. It was apparently a topic they studiously avoided. Curious. Janey came out with a small overnight case. She had changed her clothes and was headed out to stay with Amud and Bala. Bala had expressed an interest in continuing Janey's `education,' though that was not really explained in detail. I had made it clear there was to be no sex, at least not with Amud, at least not yet. Bala had looked at me as if I was daft, loony. `But of course not, Lawrence...' I saw out the last of the guests, all of them wishing us well. Marion was excited that we would be moving in with her into the other half of the house. I think she was more excited about it than we were, and we were very excited. The last couple drove off, and I noticed Beth's car was still there. I grinned to myself. Good. She had gone with CeCe and Mac. I sent up a quick prayer for them, that this would work out. I hoped CeCe would take my advice and go see the Rosens, too. With Mac and Beth. I stood looking up at the afternoon sky, imagining my thoughts wending through the clouds to heaven. Then I sent one up for me, Sally and Nicole. We were going to need it, too. Chapter 58 The clean-up crew was due back at dusk, so I had plenty of time to dally outside with my two brides. They were still in their ribbon boxes, but by the shifting of their feet, I could sense a bit of impatience building. It was time to get on with the main event. I think if they had known what I had planned, and what Luci Wang had just told me, they might not be so eager. I pulled up a lawn chair and sat in it, facing away from them. The sun felt good on my face and bare chest. It was that perfect kind of a day on the Eastern Coast of the US, not too hot, not too damp, just a slight breeze. Perfect. Too bad we only got one or two a year, if that. I thought hard about what had Luci had told me, and added a bit of my own information to the mix. Gertie was going to be pissed, or she should have been. That puzzled me. I was her favorite guinea pig, and had all kinds of special elixirs and potions poured into me over the years, some the permanent effects. I was a pharmaceutical nightmare. I couldn't ever take an aspirin. Dr. Wang had told her about his procedure and what he had done. She must have known or at least guessed what the effects of that would be. Maybe it would be OK. Or maybe Gertie really was a sadistic bitch deep down. Unable to come to a resolution, I got up. I noticed both my wives had knelt down on the hard concrete. A sensible thing to do and I grinned at them. Both lit up at my attention and rose to their feet. I figured their bladders were about ready to pop, so I assisted them to the bathroom off the pool house. Though we had done this many times, I still felt like an intruder when they relieved themselves while bound. I had to clean them, which I did carefully, but it was an intimate procedure I never quite got used to. I led them over to the chair I had been sitting in and had them kneel again. I looked at them for a long time and my love for each of them overwhelmed me. Their trust in me, their confidence, their faith... I only hoped I could measure up. "Sally, Nicole," I began. Always a safe bet to begin with their names, as long as you don't blank and call them someone else. That's not good... "You may have noticed during the ceremony that the word `love' was not mentioned." They both nodded, but didn't seem concerned. "That was intentional. The public ceremony is to demonstrate the commitment of each of us for the other. Your willingness to participate, bound and gagged, illustrated to the witnesses your position in this new family, and your acceptance of it. I control this family, I speak for this family. "It is now that I will speak of my love for you, before our bonding ceremony, which will be private. From this moment on, I will never, or try to never speak of my love of one or the other of you individually. To me, in my heart, you are one woman, my wife. I love you both equally and unconditionally. Not one more, not one less, neither different from the other, though you will not be treated the same. "I understand that you are individuals, but you are as one my wife, two parts of a whole. My loves, I thought it would never be possible for me to be this happy, to deserve such love or devotion from you. I promise you that I will do my utmost to honor you, as one and as two." Both women were weeping quietly. They weren't sad tears. I waited a minute just savoring the moment. Then I related to them, along with all my fears, what I had learned from Luci. How the unknown adjustment to Dr. Wang's devices explained my behavior of late, and that it might not change, even after my system balanced itself, if it could at all. They learned some pretty classified stuff about me that afternoon. Nicole was listening to my words very intently, as she understood this stuff. Sally was listening to my tone, catching the drift of my fears by how I said what I was saying. Both women were at times horrified and unmoved by what I said. There was another period of silence after my lengthy explanation. Sensing that both women were OK with what I had told them, I took hold of their leashes and led them indoors. Both were a little mystified when, instead of the bedroom, I led them to the dungeon. Once inside, I closed and locked the door. We didn't do that often, the door being heavy. But it did let them know that we were not down here for a quickie before bed. We were here for the duration. "We are going to consummate our relationship here with the rites of bonding. This ritual will last as long as it takes, one minute or one week. I will know, you will know when it is concluded. "This ceremony establishes this family from this point forward. You are bound, gagged and naked because it pleases me. That will be the basis for this relationship. I serve you, you please me." This was not a question, nor was this a new idea to them. Sally first, then Nicole had told me that this was the way they wanted it. Not the part about me serving them, that was my idea, but them here for my pleasure. "You will not speak, even when not gagged, until this ceremony is complete." Again, it was a command. No options. "Any infraction will result in a serious and immediate whipping. And, as you are now one to me, both will suffer for the error of one." I wanted them to be clear about this, so I flipped the switch that illuminated the apparatus they hated most, the stocks. This massive wooden block forced them to bend over and blinded them from the intentions of the whip wielder. The stocks were set up in tandem now, ready for the both of them. In fact, as they looked around, all the various arrangements of frames and equipment were set up for two at once. I methodically flipped up all the switches, lighting up all the torture devices that Sally, Nicole and I had accumulated over time, singly and together. Then, one by one, I flipped them off, seemingly at random until just one was lit up. I led the two over to this one. Two heavy vertical poles about six feet apart, two heavy rings in each, one at ground level, the other about eight feet up. Strong ropes hung from each ring, the top ropes attached to a powerful winch. The center of the floor between the poles was raised about eight inches, like a dais. Turning to the women, I slipped the flimsy pantaloons off them. They stepped out of them and I tossed them into the shadows. I unfastened their wrists. Before beginning, I began to slip the `safe' signals we had designed on their fingers. It was a simple gadget, made of two contact electrodes and a small transmitter. By slipping one over the thumb and the other over the ring finger, a gagged sub could signal that her limits had been reached by simply touching the two together. When in contact, they set off an alarm in the dungeon, letting the dom know immediately that the sub was in trouble. I immediately ran into trouble with Sally. She refused to let me put them on her fingers, and I was left playing twenty questions with a gagged woman. "You don't want them, Sally?" No. She was shaking her head. God, that made her tits bounce! "Why? Oh, shit. You can't answer that one, can you." No. Another bouncing feast for the eyes. This time she notice and shimmied, too. "OK, let's get the big question out of the way. Do you still want to continue with what I had planned? The bonding ceremony?" A big `Yes', from both women. They jiggled when they nodded, all four of them. I was getting distracted. "But you don't want a safe word?" Since it served the same purpose, we called it the same thing. Two big `No's. I almost lost my train of thought. "It's going to be rough. I explained, or tried to, that Dr. Wang's adjustment has made me more aggressive. Do you understand?" Yes. "And no safe word?" No. "OK. Suit yourself." I made them face each other, standing on the platform between the posts. First I bound a right wrist to a left wrist, then a left wrist to a right wrist using some broad leather straps. Then I bound them together at the elbows and just below the armpits, both around the arms with one strap, and another around their backs, crushing their tits together. Each strap was pulled tight, then retightened. Due to the differences in their height, I had Sally stand up on tiptoe before I finally tightened the strap that went under their armpits and circled their backs. A thick belt went around their waist, helping hold her in place level with Nicole. Their legs were similarly bound at the ankles, knees and again just below the crotch. I pulled down the two upper ropes and fastened them to heavy rings in the wrist straps. I activated the winch and their arms were lifted up and out, then their feet left the floor. I secured their ankles to the ropes at the bottom and pulled them tight. My wives were tied, spread-eagled and suspended, totally helpless. The sight of them hanging there fired something in me and I felt a black curtain slipping over my senses, like the fog creeps over the San Francisco hills. I stood still for a long while and relished the dark sense of power that came over me. I was, at that moment, capable of inflicting great pain and suffering on that hanging target and thoroughly enjoying it. That lump of flesh held no more meaning for me other that to be the recipient of my rage. And that's about as close as I can describe it. A rage, of sorts. Only without the evil intent. I guess I just went a little crazy. I beat them. I whipped them. I stepped up on the dais and I fucked them. Whichever hole I hit first, I used until I came. And they took it. Over and over. For hours. Mercilessly, remorselessly, I vented my aggressions on their supple flesh. Whips, crops, cats, straps and paddles. I used them all. I walked around and around them, flailing at them endlessly. When my arm was tired, I picked a hole and fucked. It didn't make any difference which hole or which wife, they were one to me. After I had come in them, regardless of their pleasure, I would begin again. The room began to smell of sex, sweat and urine. I would occasionally give them sips of water, and the result was that they pissed where they hung. It was part of the process. I remember vaguely, when I switched them from being tied front to front to being tied back to back, that Nicole had another objection. I had gotten them leather bras to protect their tits from my assault. Somehow, I guess I had known this was going to happen, just not the extent of my punishments. I remember screaming at them, explaining I didn't want to rip out their nipples, rings and all. Nicole very calmly went over to the first aid kit and got two band- aids. She taped one to her left tit, then one to Sally's. A fucking flimsy piece of tape. We went through a whole box of Band-aids and half a roll of electrician's tape I found down there. It incensed me that they would defy me and so I focused on their breasts. Again, back to back, the women were whipped and fucked as one. When I was done with the fronts of them, I put them face to face again and started over. Then switched again. I was relentless, driven, obsessed, insatiable. It was sometime during the second day that my hormones slipped back into balance and my system stabilized. I felt it. Sally sensed it. Even Nicole noticed a redirection of my blows. It was odd, though. I still felt the need to beat the shit out of them, well, not really, but damn, it's hard to explain. I knew if I hit them, it would make me feel good. I mean, really good. But suddenly, that wasn't the whole point. Now, I knew if I hurt them in the right way, that we would both get enjoyment out of it. We spent the rest of that day exploring our very peculiar new sadomasochistic relationship. I was still not entirely comfortable with the idea of hurting them for pleasure, but they let me know, in their nonverbal way, that this was what they wanted. If not all the time, at least now. It wasn't until they were soaking in the big Jacuzzi off the bedroom that I took off their gags. Then I sagged back, the `honeymoon' bonding ceremony completed. The girls' first reactions, their first free moves were to embrace each other, weeping and hugging each other for a long time. I sat, alone, but not really. When they were done they turned to me. "We've made a decision, Larry." "About us and our relationship." "She will be first wife." "And she will be second." It was like watching a ping-pong match. Back and forth in perfect sync. And when had they decided this? And practiced this routine? This didn't bode well for me. They continued. "It's for our own good." "We know we are equal in your heart." "But you only have one, well,.." "..cock." "So when you have to do one of us at a time," "Sally will go first," "Then Nicole." This was too much. "Don't I get a say in this?" They looked at each other then grinned. "Sure!" "As long as you say you agree!" They were grinning like idiots. They were right and they knew it. Well, fuck, that's what you get for marrying up, right? "Anything else?" I asked. Again they looked at each other. "Yes, Lawrence. Master, Lover," "The wedding and the bonding ceremony," "It was perfect." They said this last phrase together, in unison. It was spooky. Chapter 59 "It's not the same, Larry." I looked up from the pile of papers that had accumulated on my desk. I hadn't even noticed my twin wives slip into the room. It had been a while since I had had any time to devote to my work and I had been at it since early that morning. Sally's words were a welcome break, but then again, she was always welcome. The women still walked gingerly, as it had only been a couple of days since the bonding. However, even in that short time I had noticed several changes, both in myself and in them. The first big difference I had noticed, almost immediately, was that they had connected somehow and were now on the same wavelength. It was still unnerving when they alternated phrases when talking. The second was that, when they were together, they almost always had contact with each other. And that they rarely went anywhere alone although I didn't notice them talking more to each other than usual. If anything, they said less than before. Even when they were sitting in bed reading the paper I would notice that their toes or fingers touched silently, almost casually. They weren't caressing touches, just contact. They were holding hands now as they stood in my office. The third thing was that it seemed the stronger I got, the more confident I was in the dominating role they seemed to want of me, the more assertive they got. Their announcement of first wife / second wife was only the beginning. That's also the reason I found myself walking around the house in the nude. They had decided that they liked to watch me swinging free, as they said. It was also why I was in my office working this morning. They hadn't exactly told me to in so many words, but, well, you get the idea. It wasn't that they were usurping my authority. On the contrary, by clearly defining the rules for them, so to speak, I had given them the freedom to act independently within those boundaries. Of course, the fun began when they ran into a limit and/or deliberately wanted to cross a line. The ensuing negotiations were both painful and enjoyable to all of us. I understood them well enough by now that I knew they were going to seek out some rules to break, so I intentionally made some absurd ones they could fracture without cracking the infrastructure of our marriage. It was in their natures both to submit as well as to push the limits, and I did my best to accommodate them. I had also noticed some changes in myself, as well. Some were subtle and some I was still coming to grips with. Now that my system had balanced, I noticed I required less sleep. Three hours of down time and I was ready to go. However, the girls weren't and they had kicked me out of the bedroom after the second night of 3 A.M. sex. Oh, it wasn't that they weren't willing and didn't readily submit to my pre-dawn desires and demands, but the gentle snoring coming from your sex partner while banging away took a lot away from the experience. So I worked in my office from 3 A.M. until breakfast. It was an arrangement that worked. Another change was that I was more sure of what I wanted, but what I found interesting was that what I wanted had changed, too. I made better decisions, faster, and communicated them in an authoritative manner that left little to no doubt. Not just in business, but sexually, too. I was more commanding and demanding in the bedroom, leaving the women wide-eyed and breathless at times. I know that sounds like a clich‚, but it's true. They had always encouraged me to be more assertive and somewhat rougher with them, and they got their wishes fulfilled many times over. I wasn't brutal, nor was it rape. Our sexual foreplay was lasting longer and longer and leaving more and more marks on them that would take days to disappear. Even with that, they seemed eager to please, eager for more, but mainly, just eager. That did present, however, one of the changes in myself that I was still coming to grips with. I had trouble accepting a self-image of being that aggressive or that macho. I wanted, I had been raised to think of myself a gentle, sensitive person. I had always taken care to be aware of my partner's needs. This was a whole new wrinkle in the fabric of my character, and, for now at least, it chafed a bit. And yet I was more sensitive, too, in spite of being more macho. Linking with Sally now was like hooking into the PA system at Indianapolis Speedway, loud and clear. I was even beginning to pick up on clues within Nicole, though she seemed unaware of any link. I know she still desperately wanted to experience it, but there didn't seem to be any progress on her part. It was just so much noise between us, like snow on the TV. That was what Sally had been referring to, when she walked into my office and had said it wasn't the same. "We haven't linked, like, well, you and I have or Janey." I noticed she didn't mention Simone. I wondered if she hadn't linked with her, or if she was just being tactful. "Simone can do it, too," added Nicole, smiling shyly at Sally. Nicole, like Sally, faced things head on. They really were a lot alike. "What is between us is different, more elemental, kind of." "No words or pictures, Lawrence, we just sort of know." "Especially when it is about you." "Or us." "But not about Janey." "Or Simone." "You're on your own there." "Sorry." "We thought you'd like to know." "We know it's been bothering you." I sat, stunned. They were telepathic. Had to be. But only on a limited scope, where it concerned the three of us. I watched them pivot and walk out of the office, still touching hands. They stopped just outside the door. "Oh, and Master?" "Yes?" "Breakfast is ready." Mealtimes had changed, too. First, at least with the teenagers gone, we ate naked. The cushion by my chair was gone, too, along with the chair. Another of their unilateral decisions. My chair had been replaced by a bench, wide enough for the three of us. We sat along the long edge of the table, and two chairs were now positioned across from us, presumably for Janey and Simone when they returned. Nicole and Sally, at the first meal, had placed just one plate on the table in front of me along two forks, of which they promptly took possession. The pile of food on the plate had been prepared in bite-sized pieces. They then proceeded to feed themselves and me. I wasn't sure I liked it at first, but they were insistent. They were kneeling on the bench on each side of me and I wasn't sure what to do with my hands. My first clue came when I felt a silky touch on my own cock, which immediately rose to the occasion. The women were carrying on as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on, smiling and laughing, talking over the plans for the day in that ping-pong system of theirs. It slowly dawned on me that these two were capable of multi-tasking, of doing more than one thing at once. They could eat breakfast and stimulate me at the same time, apparently without thinking, and still plan the day's events. I also noticed that they didn't consult me when making out the schedule. They also seemed to understand that it was more difficult for me, and I think of guys in general, to focus on more than one thing at a time. I mean, I can walk and chew gum at the same time, but food is another matter. They had both experienced my loss of focus over a good steak for everything but the meat in my mouth, naked nubile teenager at the table or not. Hey! Trains of thought were meant to be derailed, no? I suddenly saw the reason for only two forks. Yes, even the slowest among us, if led gently enough can comprehend eventually. My hands were free and so were two very conveniently placed delectable asses! Among other things in the immediate area. There were also some extremely delicate nipples within arms' reach. And all I had to do was open my mouth and food, or a sip of coffee, or an intimate kiss would follow. God, I could get used to this! Mealtimes would become an act of foreplay for us, even with the girls present, and were normally followed by one or both of my wives initiating an unusually uninhibited bout of sex play. It wasn't always intercourse, in fact, as time went on, they seemed to prefer to present me with a stack of ropes, feathers, massage oils, pussy whips or any number of other implements of pain/pleasure and then let nature, perverted as mine might have been, take its course. Anyway, on those first mornings while the girls were still gone, we were sort of feeling our way along, in more than one sense of the word. When I first felt the light touches along my stiffening shaft, I nearly jumped off the bench. Sally and Nicole just kept eating and feeding me as if nothing had happened. The second feathery touches elicited a lesser response and by the time we were finishing our coffee, I had caught on. I had one finger buried in each of my wanton women. It had been a long slow insertion into each, not an abrupt jab, in keeping with their own slow escalation of contact with me. It was satisfying to see their ragged breathing and their flushed cheeks. They were not entirely immune to my ministrations, even if they pretended to ignore what was going on with my hands. I did, however, learn to be careful of which wife was holding the cup of hot coffee over my lap before wiggling an imbedded finger too much. The scornful look I got from Nicole after causing her to spill a splash on my navel almost made it seem as if it was my fault. Janey was the first of the two teens to arrive back at Sally's. With our focus on the impending move, we had all stopped referring to Sally's house as `home.' We were, for once, all still in bed, although I had already put in several hours of work. My wives were still in bed because the night before I had tied them there. Before retiring, I had them kneel by the bed. "Hands!" I had commanded and they promptly lifted their hands to me, palm to palm. I produced two short soft cords and tied their wrists together. It wasn't too tight, and a little struggling would release them. In fact, I made them practice getting loose a couple of times, so that they would know they could, should there be an emergency. I positioned Sally first, raising her hands over her head and fastening them via a short chain to the headboard. Nicole was positioned similarly, but they were about 18 inches apart. Two other cords attached to the footboard bound their ankle together and kept them stretched out full length. With that done, I crawled carefully between them. The feeling of sexual tension was indescribable, both cuddling bound vixen vying for my attentions. Both could have gotten free at any time, without penalty, but that wouldn't have been any fun. Being tied the way they were allowed them to turn toward or away from me and both immediately rolled in my direction, lying a tempting breast each on my own bare chest. However, neither could reach my cock, and the light covering I had pulled up tented with my arousal. That was the condition I was in as Janey bounced into our room, as usual without knocking. Whether by accident, which I doubt, or intent, she landed on my groin, hard-on and all. Given that it was standing almost as high as Mt. Everest, she really couldn't have missed it. The covering had worked down during the night to about waist level, leaving a lot of skin exposed to her examination. Which she did, after landing on my crotch. She spent a long silent moment looking at her mother's chest and arms, still blotchy with the marks from our bonding ceremony. She lightly touched one of the darker welts with a slender index finger. Seeing her mother and Nicole were bound, but seemingly OK, she got an impish smile on her face. I don't know if she thought she was finally going to get to me or what, but the little minx spread her legs on both sides of me and moved down so that she was straddling my groin. She then proceeded to make some very suggestive motions, rubbing her crotch against mine. The only thing between us was a thin sheet because, if I knew Janey, she wasn't wearing panties. Sally observed this behavior with a puzzling Mona Lisa smile on her face. I leaned over to her and kissed her lightly, bringing her gaze from Janey to me. I then put my hands behind my head and watched the teenager, neither encouraging her nor discouraging her. What the two bound women did not see was the link between Janey and I. I had learned not to project pictures or words, as they could be intercepted. But personal ideas, abstract thoughts, those seemed to be received only by the person intended. That's what I `sent' to Janey; all the love and adoration I had of her as a daughter, the pride I had in her, fatherly pride, and the love and devotion I had for her mother. It made it clear that her actions, while appreciated, were, from now on, inappropriate. Things had changed. She slowly stopped her erotic rocking, tilting her head at the flood of intense feelings I was sending her. Not one, even those of my admiration for her beauty, could be construed in any way as sexual. A tiny tear formed in the corner of her eye as she stopped moving. Slowly she collapsed between Sally and me, curling into me like a small child. She sobbed in quiet embarrassment for some time, using my chest to hold her tears. "Mom?" "Yes, Honey?" she answered from behind her. "He doesn't play fair, does he?" I could see Sally smile from behind the teary-eyed girl. "I think, Janey, that my Master is trying to tell you that some things have changed." Janey's eyes popped open at the word `Master.' She turned to her mother. "Mom...?" Her voice trailed off as she and her mother touched over their link. "Oh, God! Mom! I'm so happy for you." She wrapped her arms around Sally as best she could and hugged her tightly. Then she turned and hugged me. "I'm sorry, Dad. It won't happen again." She raised herself up and looked at me, suddenly very grown up. "You'll have to let Simmie and me know what's OK and what's not now." "I think," I said grinning at her, "and I am pretty sure I can speak for your Mom, too, that you have officially `graduated' from the Larry Sampson school for delectable young girls. You're almost a grown woman and we think you need to focus on moving on to the next part of your life. This is our life, and you are always welcome, don't misunderstand. This will be your home, if not here, then always with us wherever we are. "In terms of how you should act from now on, I think that you should just follow your mother's and Nicole's lead, same as before. Besides, I don't appear to have too much to say about how things run around here." "Oh," she quipped back, "at least that's the same!" We all laughed and then Janey crawled over me to hug Nicole, all without touching anything she shouldn't. After the hugging was over, Janey once again settled in between Sally and I, and immediately began fidgeting. Sally looked up at me and rolled her eyes. We both had seen this behavior before and it meant that there was something on her mind. More accurately, Janey had made a major decision and was wondering how to tell us. We both knew when the fidgeting started, we didn't have long to wait. It wasn't. "Mom? Dad? That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. My future and stuff. Oh, don't worry, I'm going to finish High School and then go to college, but..." She hesitated. "Bala has been telling me about her country, culture and customs. I want to go there." "I think it would be great for you to visit," Sally started. I shook my head, stopping her. Janey didn't want to visit. She wanted to go there. For good. "Janey, Honey, it would all be so strange to you. For being an ancient culture and very rich in traditions, they really are quite primitive. Third world status is a stretch for them." "I know all that. Amud and Bala spent the last three days telling me all the bad things that go on there. Do you know they cut off the private parts of the young girls, Mom? At least in some of the villages. Just because the men are afraid that they might be promiscuous or get a little enjoyment from sex? Do you know that 95% of the boys can read, but that Bala and Leah, Amud's sister are probably the only two women in the country that can?" Janey's voice was rising in a passionate single-sided debate. As she continued to rattle off the statistics that Amud and Bala had used to try to dissuade her from her commitment, I could feel the depths of her passion and I knew this was not a High School fling. The sudden aching of my heart surprised me and the tears flowed freely and silently from my eyes. Every father whose little girl grows up and goes away must feel a similar loss. Janey didn't see the tears, but Sally did and she realized what they meant. Sally pulled her hands free from her bonds and engulfed her daughter. Janey seemed surprised at the ferocity of the hug and the tears and heartrending sobs. From both of us. We had lost our little girl, not to a young man and a family, but to a cause and a whole country. It hurt like Hell. Chapter 60 Simone came back to Sally's laden with packages from stores I had never heard of, but which I was sure, given the quality of the tiny bags, were expensive. Small boutiques with names like `le Petit Waif' and such. Given the quantity, I was sure she had put a serious dent in her Mom's credit cards. Nicole didn't seem to mind, and surveyed the mound of merchandise with a matter of fact calm, as if this type of extravagant spree were a common occurrence. Like, right. I should talk about extravagant. Maybe I was just piqued that nothing she bought would fit me. Or maybe I was simply astounded that she and Gertie had actually managed to go shopping. Simone distributed a couple of her purchases to Janey, Nicole and Sally, gifts for them she had picked out for them. I watched for a while, but when the lacy teddies came out and other frilly things she had purchased for herself, I felt uncomfortable, like I was intruding. I went to my office to catch up on some more work and pack a few more boxes for the move. Simone's first indication that things were different came at dinner. She came flouncing into the dining room in a filmy negligee, more appropriate for a seduction scene in an XXX-rated video than the dinner table, although, in her defense, she was actually over dressed for what had been considered acceptable prior to this. She got a funny look on her face when she saw the change in the seating arrangements and Janey's jeans and heavy T-shirt. And bra. Nicole and Sally were, as usual, completely naked but for their collars and nipple rings, so I would grant you, it would be confusing. Sally and Nicole simply folded their hands and put them in their laps. Janey saw them and followed suit. My hands were already below the table, but not in my lap. Simone slipped into her chair, the only one empty. No one spoke for several minutes. "That is a very pretty nightgown, Simone," "It would be a shame to soil it at the table." "It might be better if you changed," "Into something like your sister is wearing." "But you do look lovely." It was almost funny to watch Simone's reaction to the ping-pong style of speaking that Sally and Nicole had developed. It took her a while, but she finally realized that they had asked her to change clothes, and even then, it took Janey to take her by the hand and lead her into their room. The two returned dressed in jeans and shirts. By the adjusting hitch Simone had made walking in, I guessed that not only bras were being worn, but panties as well. Sally and Nicole bestowed brilliant smiles on their decently clad daughters and dinner continued as if nothing unusual had happened. I continued to be fed and fondled and to fondle the two women as we had when we were alone. Janey and Simone tried to ignore our strange behavior, and for the most part, did a pretty good job. It was only after a particularly malicious fingering or nipple-tweak that I could get either mother to lose her train of conversation or elicit a giggle. Neither mother minded my attentions, either of themselves or the other, and often rewarded my efforts with seductive winks, a squeeze of my prick or a tongue dualing kiss. The teens eventually stopped staring when these things would occur. The biggest change in the routine was the assignment of cleanup duty. It was now the teens' responsibility to do the dishes, clean the kitchen and then to `disappear' for a while following dinner, as well as all other meals. It almost raised an objection, but faced with the unified front of all three of adults, they wisely kept their own counsel. That night, preparing my wives for bed, I sensed that there was something disturbing them. "Hands," I commanded and two pairs of wrists were produced. Still, something was wrong. I waited, not tying them. "Master? We would like to request something." "Not to complain. Please do not misunderstand" "We are exceedingly happy with all that you do." "You know that something occurred between Sally and I." "We, well, we find we need to touch." "It is not necessary, and if it pleases you" "To arrange us at night to prevent us touching" "Then we will be pleased to please you." "But, Master, it is better for us if we can touch." "If it pleases you." They stopped, and waited, their palms still together, waiting for me. I knelt down in front of them, and lifted each lowered head to look at me. There was no fear or defiance in them. It was simply a request, but only if I pleased. As enjoyable as having them bound as they were last night was, there were a hundred other possibilities. I decided to go with one. "I do not want this to be a punishment for you, but I want you bound at night, as befits your status as my slaves. I think, however, we can make a few modifications." I had them kneel on the bed facing each other. Then, with the soft cords I had used the night before I tied their wrists together, right to left, left to right. They were squealing in delight when they realized what I was doing. I wasn't done yet. I lay them down with their lower arms extended over their heads. That pair of wrists I fastened to the headboard. Then I bound their ankles together similar to the way their wrists were, right to left, left to right. It wasn't until I was finished that the two sobered. "But Master?" began Nicole in a forlorn voice. "Where will you sleep?" Grinning, I stepped between them and had them move as far apart as possible. They lifted their top set of arms automatically and I settled down gently between them, fitting my legs between the upper and lower sets of theirs. It was tight and it was a bit uncomfortable until we all learned to move the same way, but it was glorious. I made sweet love to both of them that night, the other wife an active participant riding my back, loving and encouraging the greatest enjoyment from the mating couple. It became our preferred sleeping arrangement. When I woke up, Sally and Nicole were in blissful slumber. I untied their arms that were holding me in and carefully extricated myself. I hoped they would take that partial release as a sign they could finish untying themselves when they awoke. I had been in my office about half an hour when Simone appeared at my side. I had never seen her wear such a thick or covering nightdress, and she wore a robe over that. Still, she was a lovely sight to see, except for the look of concern on her face. "Papa?" she asked hesitantly, "May I sit on your lap?" "Of course, Simone." I pushed my chair back for her and she climbed on. She seemed uncomfortable, as she was sitting way down my thighs. I hauled her slight frame up against me and her head finally nestled against my chest. "This is OK? Being this close?" "Sure. Why do you ask?" "Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe it was something I had done, that you didn't want to see me anymore, but Janey said it was her, too. Is it what Gertie said? She was just teasing you, you know." I held the little girl tightly to me, resting my chin lightly on the top of her head. She was so tender, so sensitive. Hell, they all were. As the tears fell from my eyes, I sent her the same messages I had sent to Janey; that I loved her so very much, like a Papa, that I was proud of her, that I would always support her in whatever way I could, that I only wanted what was best for her. That things had changed, though, and that this was now for the best. We had to move on, to grow. She had to take what she had learned here and start to face the world, to build her own life. I don't know how long we sat there, father and daughter, but it was a long time. She understood what I had been trying to tell her, then began to convey to me all the things that Gertie had told her and what she had guessed and pieced together beyond that. I always knew she was a smart girl, but this went way past 2 + 2 = 4. And she was frightened, not for herself, but for me. She didn't know what or why, but she guessed a lot of my life story, what I had done. She took me back to the beach we had gone to that first time so long ago. Our separate sandcastles had all been moved together, one bulwark made up of all of our individual sands, standing together, united against the tides. She looked at the mounded sands that represented our family with a sense of pride, of belonging. Taking my hand we wandered through the castle, suddenly in the dream very small in relation to it, like Alice in Wonderland going down the rabbit hole. As we passed by the multi-hued grains, the faces of our history, she would stop and point to one or another of them, asking me for that particular story, how this one had died, why had I killed that one. She seemed to know who those were, the various enemies I had brought down. I realized then that I had been telling her, all along, which ones they were by my own fears that colored the grains. We wept for the dead, Simone and I, friend and foe alike, our tears mingling together with the waves, washing and cleansing. The fear was still there, but Simone had a way of healing, drawing out the pain. It was her gift, her talent, and she was learning to use it well. Sally and Nicole found us asleep in my chair when they came to get me for breakfast, Simone's head lying comfortably on my chest with her hand holding mine, my chin resting easily on her head. Nicole broke down and cried and it wasn't until she haltingly explained that that was the exact way she remembered her own Papa that we knew she was happy for Simone, that she was finally healed from her ordeal. Moving day was an anticlimax. We got dressed, all of us today, the movers came, the movers left. We got in the cars and followed. We were home. Sally and Nicole had been busy at the house a lot, but they weren't they only ones who had done a little work and preparation. This was an old house and had originally had a stable attached, which my father had converted into a huge garage. I had several cars stored there that I had collected over the years, not necessarily vintage collector cars, but ones I liked. Leading the small caravan of cars around to the parking area, I parked my BMW in front of a door marked with an "L." There were other garage bays with letters on them as well. An "M" for Marion, an "N" for Nicole, a "J" for Janey and not one but two "S"s. Going first to Sally, I handed her a garage door opener and a car key. Her eyes glittering, she eagerly pushed the button. The door smoothly slid open to reveal a gleaming new Mercedes convertible coupe. Sally was speechless. She had dreamed of this car for her whole life, but had only made one reference to it early on in our relationship. Before all of this mess with Janey had started. But I had remembered and she knew I had when she saw the car. She turned, and the look she gave me told me I was going to get lucky tonight and for a long time, not that I wasn't already the luckiest man alive. I handed Nicole the same things, an opener and a key. This time the door opened to reveal the Buggatti. She screamed, ran towards the car, then back towards me, then back to the car. Finally she just stopped and jumped up and down. Too bad she was wearing a shirt, but still, the excitement in her eyes was worth the gift. "You'll have to do the maintenance yourself, Nicole. My mechanics told me you do better work than they do." Her eyes got wide with fear that I had found out that she had been tinkering with my car when she and Sally had come to ostensibly work on the house. Tinkering, hell. She was a damn good mechanic, at least with the Buggatti. It was about as finicky an engine as had ever been designed, fantastic when running right, but easily bungled. I had taken it out for a test drive and the power had scared the living shit out of me. It had never been running better. "It's all yours," I said, smiling at her. "Besides, you'll need a car to get to work." Nicole looked devastated. I was sending her out to look for a job. "Yes, Master." Her voice was quivering. "Nicole, Helga Rosen asked me if you might consider helping them with some of their research. They are having some particularly tough problems... well, why don't you go talk to her? It is up to you, though, if you accept. I just thought you might like to get back in the lab..." At the mention of Helga Rosen, Nicole's feelings flipped 180 degrees. I don't think she had even thought about working with them, but it was a good fit, and she knew it. "Oh, yes! Thank you, Master!" I don't know if she was more excited about the Buggatti or the Rosens. I guess it didn't make a difference. I was getting luckier and luckier. Janey jumped up and down even before I tossed her the opener and keys. She had been wanting a car for so long, dreaming of a `Beamer' or Jag or some such outrageous expensive toy. Her door slid open to expose... "Daaaddy! That Mom's old car." You could hear the disappointment in her voice. I mean, after a Mercedes and a Buggatti, Hell, I'd expect something more, too. I didn't say anything, just tossed the last package to Simone, who wasn't even old enough to drive. She wasn't expecting it and my missiles hit her stomach and bounced to the ground. The jar of the impact activated the opener, and her door opened on a pile of crates, toolboxes, hoists, welding equipment and a set of tires, among other assorted junk. She looked over at me, a puzzled expression on her face. Even Janey quit belly-aching about her car. Only Nicole was smiling. She recognized the shipping labels. "Was my automobile in an accident?" she asked. "No," I answered. "You can't drive yet." "I know that, but that doesn't answer my question." She'd been around Gertie too much. She wasn't easily distracted. "Well, you can't drive yet, and that's not a car. Yet. I figured by the time you're old enough to drive, we should just about have that roadster put together." "We...?" Simone asked wide-eyed. "As in, you and me?" "Well, you, me and your Mom, I hope. I have a feeling she can help us out a lot, if she's willing." Nicole was beaming her response. This was how she had learned mechanics and learned to love cars, from the ground up, working side by side with her Papa. I was giving her the opportunity to pass that along to her daughter, as well as giving both of them the time with me. "Hey! That's not fair. She gets a roadster?" Janey was finally catching on. I turned and leveled a sober look at her. "Yes. But you can trade if you want..." Mechanical things and Janey didn't get along. She looked at the pile of boxes, then at the solid, well running car in her bay. Then back at the boxes, then back at her car. Sheepishly she grinned, and declined the trade. Smart girl. The transportation issues taken care of, we went in to the disaster known euphemistically as `Moving day.' Believe me, there is nothing moving about that day unless you move it. One fucking box at a time. Oh, sure, the movers get things close, but they still manage to misplace 50 or so boxes, and it's never from one room to the next, it's from the basement to the attic. When all is said and done, though, it was a pretty easy move. No furniture, only clothes, personal items and some books. Sally was keeping her furniture for her own house, she said, but I really think it was just an excuse to buy more things and spend more of my money. Which she did exceptionally well, by the way. She had outdone herself with the renovation. I didn't recognize the place, with the exception of the ornate and huge marble reception hall. The twin staircases still wound up the sides to the balcony. The room off the balcony was designed to be the focal point of our family, our family room. It was the room that had been my favorite growing up, with its windowed ceiling and floor to ceiling windows. On clear nights I would lie there and imagined I could see forever and ever. Lightning storms were phenomenal. Sally had taken that room and improved it. It was a room that invited you to come in and sit down and be a part of the household. Huge, man-sized pillows were strewn about in conversational groupings, freestanding fireplaces had been installed at either side, providing a cheery dancing light and needed heat for those long winter nights. The old single-paned windows were gone, as was most of the wall, replaced by a modern highly efficient glass covering. As this room spanned the width between the two wings of the house, looking out from these windows you could see the terraced gardens below and a narrow slice of the universe framed by the rooms on either side. The ground floor in our wing was mostly kitchen, breakfast nook, dining rooms, yes plural, and an entertainment center. I raised my eyebrows at all of the fancy, and expensive, electronic equipment, especially as we used the crock-pot more than we did the TV. Sally just smiled mysteriously, as if she knew something I hadn't figured out yet. Well, it wouldn't be the first time, so I kept quiet. The bedrooms were on the second floor. I was surprised that Janey and Simone were going to share, and that there was only one bed, albeit huge. Again, I raised my eyebrows in question, but the girls seemed to be totally excited about rooming together. Must be a girl thing. Our room, now that was a bedroom. You could hold a monster-truck rally in that space and still have room for spectators. OK, so it wasn't quite that cavernous, but it was big. As was the bed, but not too big to lose the three of us. Three walk-in closets and a bathroom that defied belief. As we were on the second floor, it wasn't possible to put the Jacuzzi outside. So Sally had put it indoors, in a room with a separate sauna and a steam room. I shuddered to think of the energy bills to heat that space. There was a door that joined this room with the teen's room. I noticed that we could lock theirs, but they couldn't lock ours. It was the little details that fascinated me about Sally. The focal point of our bathroom, however, was not the Jacuzzi or sauna. It was the fully functional barber's chair in the center of the floor. There was plenty of room to move around it to any of the three sinks, the commodes or the huge multi-head shower. I grinned as I hefted the heavy strop hanging on the side of the chair, imaging the sound of it snapping against a firm naked ass. Sally and Nicole saw and moved closer together, clasping hands. Strange, I didn't sense any fear, only excitement. There were three straight razors hanging in a little rack on the back of the chair, sharp and ready for use the next morning. The chair was bolted to the floor, so even if all three of us were on it at the same time, it wouldn't tip over. I had a feeling that we would be late for breakfast tomorrow morning. The rest of the floor was guestrooms, another entrance to the family room I mentioned earlier and a room that would best be described as a harem room. Sally had copied CeCe's design for the inside of a tent and made some improvements here and there. I headed up the stairs to the third floor, but Sally stopped me. With a quick glance at Nicole, and a deep breath, Sally touched a hidden button in the wall of our bedroom. Soft, minimal lighting switched on automatically, illuminating an old spiral stone staircase that went down and down. I hadn't remembered this from when I was growing up and I tried to remember whose room this had been. It would come to me. The stairs led down to the lower cellar. That was two levels below the ground floor. A veritable dungeon and Sally had made the most of it. It was rough, solid and completely outfitted with every type of bondage and torture gadget you could think of. Well, at least that I could think of. Even then, there were some new ideas I hadn't thought of, too. The two women stood side by side in the dimly lit room, holding hands tightly. I didn't get what the problem was, but they were nervous. Then I looked closer at the equipment. A lot of it was used, and slightly old- fashioned, kind of. It was old. But not that old. My mind ran though the history of the house. And it hit me. This stuff had belonged to my parents! I sagged against the nearest pillar, stunned. Chapter 61 "Well, I see you finally found out the family secret," boomed Marion's voice from behind us. I wheeled around and ended up on my butt, my knees still shaky from trying to absorb too much information at once. "Hey, little brother, it's not that bad," she grinned teasingly. "Of course, I've known about this little room for years, so I can imagine it must be quite a shock to you to imagine Mom and Dad down here, doing, well ..." Marion ended by sweeping her hand around to include the various devices in the cavernous room. Especially Mom! "How... How did you find out?" Marion looked a little sheepish. "Just about the same way I came down now. They left the door open one night when they were, well, you know... I went looking for Mom for something and found them down here. I was about 13 or so. Life hasn't been the same since..." she ended, somewhat wistfully. I belatedly noticed the housewarming plant she was carrying. "Did you ever...?" I couldn't bring myself to ask. "... use this stuff?" She guffawed. "Once. Well, kind of. Mom and Daddy were away, you were out with Mac somewhere. I had been obsessed with what I saw down her. It was all I could think about, day and, uh, well, night." My stoic sister actually blushed! "Since I had the house to myself, I snuck down here and tried some of the stuff out. It was hot. I pretended I was imprisoned down here, typical teenage fantasy stuff. Everything was OK until I jiggled something on the stocks over there and couldn't get out. I was completely naked by that time and totally exposed, helpless." "What happened then?" Nicole asked breathlessly. She was totally wrapped up in this yarn Marion was spinning. At least, I was sincerely hoping it was a yarn. I mean, this was Mom we were talking about... Marion gave a wry grin, remembering. "Mom found me. I had left the door ajar, and she knew I was down here. I think she must have known I had found out about the cellar. She wasn't mad at all. She didn't laugh at me, either, when she found me trapped. She just said, `That's my favorite one, too,' and, then brought me upstairs. She never said another word about it." I sat there on the cold stone floor, astounded at the revelations I was hearing. All my childhood heroes, not to mention my mother, were falling from their pedestals and I was left speechless. I just sat on the cold floor, gumming the air, looking like a fish with my mouth opening and closing. Marion continued her survey of the room, "I do like the improvements you've made, though. It seems bigger, too." It was kind of a question, but not really. I looked around again, paying a bit more attention this time. Ah, yes! Some of the equipment strategically came in pairs, particularly the pieces I preferred to use on them or the things that they liked me to use on them. Most of those were newer than some of the solitary units. Two stations, no waiting, if I knew my impatient wenches. The various winches on the wall and the wires that criss-crossed the ceiling were new, too. The ropes were all fresh and the chains were shining. I idly wondered who the Hell they had hired to do this contracting job. And could he keep his mouth shut? But that was a worry for another time. Struggling up from my sitting position, I hugged Sally first and then Nicole, reassuring them that this was a good thing, even though I still didn't trust myself to talk. I was still a little stunned about Mom. And Marion. As we wound our way up the stairway to the bedroom, I began to have serious doubts about having moved back in with my sister. As unconventional as my life appeared to be, adding my sister to the equation was not something I wanted to even contemplate. I shut the heavy door to this new family twist firmly behind me. We continued with the tour of the house, now with Marion in tow. The third floor of our new home was mine, or at least one end of it. Sally had made my new office up there into a masterpiece, though I could also see Nicole's touch here and there. Sure, it was way up on the third floor and all. In fact, it was the only room we used up on that level, but it was perfect. It spanned the entire width of the back end of our wing of the house. I could see Marion thinking about a similar office on her wing. Sally had completely knocked out the outside walls on three sides and windowed them in floor to ceiling. Walking into my office was like walking into a rooftop paradise. I had a sweeping panoramic view overlooking the manicured grounds all the way down to the river in the back. I also had an unobstructed view of just over 60 to 70% of the rest of estate. The windows were made out of that photo-gray glass that turns darker in bright light, so I didn't even need blinds. A beautiful blonde wood desk and matching chairs completed the office furnishings Sally had provided, together with some matching butter soft leather couches and chairs gathered in a conversation grouping around a small table in one of the far corners. Everything else, all my files and the manly stuff that normally cluttered up the floor around my desk, I could keep in an adjoining workroom that had bookshelves and tables and even a small bathroom. The main office was for show. This was my `home court advantage.' This room was for me, a wedding gift from Sally and Nicole. I checked the invoices later. There was not a single charge for this room, which was why it was such a special surprise. They had been planning this for a long time. My girls, all four of them, had decided amongst themselves that this office was to be my sanctuary. They would come into it uninvited only in the direst emergencies and, even then, under the threat of certain punishment. It was a rule they wanted and that they had insisted upon. Their reasoning was that I had provided each of them a place of their own they could escape to for sanctuary, quiet time or whatever. Sally and Janey had their house and Nicole and Simone had their apartment for quiet time. This office was to be my space. I wasn't sure I liked that arrangement, yet. It was still too new and we were continually working out the kinks of the changes in our relationship. The other kind, too. I joked that that rule was just their way of getting away from me. It was a poor joke. Sally looked especially hurt and Nicole even teared up. Talk about feeling like shit. I was sitting in my chair later that afternoon, enjoying the new smell of the carpets, expensive leather and fresh paint. Sally knocked on the doorsill. "You like it, Master?" My grin was couldn't get any bigger. "Yes, I do. Very much. Thank you, again." "I'm glad you like it." She stood silently, enjoying watching me enjoy her gift to me. Then she continued, "I brought this up for you. Where do you want it?" "Where do I want what? I thought the movers had gotten everything put away." I knew my office stuff was complete. I had marked and sealed and numbered all the boxes personally, then counted them at the new house and checked the seals. Twice. Old habit. "This metal case," she said, holding it up higher for me to see. "It's not Janey's, Nicole's or mine. Simone said you'd know what to do with it. She got kind of a strange look on her face when she saw it, like she knew what it was but didn't want to remember." She was holding a large aluminum briefcase, heavy by the way she was standing. The one Mac had given me at the wedding. Given back, more accurately. It slowly came back to me where I had first seen it. Stinking, dark, clouded memories of flashing knives, death, fire, screams, empty men hurting Simone ... I shook my head to clear it of those searing memories. "Just put it there, by the door. I'll take care of it." It stayed where she put it for about an hour. I couldn't bring myself to open it, but I couldn't get that nagging feeling out of my head that it was somehow important. I had ignored the damn thing long enough and now that it was finally out in the open, I had to deal with it. I took it into the workroom and, using some of the tools I had left over from my time at the agency, I opened it. It was an expensive case and the locks were more than a cut above average. But no problem for me to open. I was a little worried that the case might have been booby-trapped or something, but you really only see that in the movies and spy novels. Right, and they only used the X-Ray machine in the bomb-squad unit to check the kids' candy at Halloween, too... The lid popped open with a slight creak and the old smell of musty air assaulted my nose. I lifted the top up slowly, revealing the hidden contents. I wish I hadn't. What I found inside sickened me all over again. I had more flashbacks of glinting knives, the stench of human waste and acrid smoke. My knees felt a bit rubbery as the contents brought back the memories of those sleepless days of searching for and then finding Simone, her hair stapled to a wooden post, her body bearing ugly marks as well as the feces, piss and ejaculates of dozens of men. At first I thought the case was just stuffed full with untidy bundles of money, thousands of dollars. Then I saw the corner of a white square. Using the eraser end of a pencil, I carefully lifted up the clumps of cash covering it up. The first thing I thought was that it was a stack of family or vacation Polaroid snapshots. I was so in denial. What I saw in the case, when I finally opened my eyes and my mind, was a thick stack of photos of girls and young women and surprisingly, one or two boys. Donning a pair of latex gloves, I quickly sorted through the pile of pictures and estimated that there must have been about 30 or more different females pictured in them, most of them in much the same shape I had found Simone. A couple were actually in worse shape, and I hadn't thought that that was possible. My stomach finally revolted. I had to rush to the bathroom, afterwards rinsing out my mouth to get rid of the sour taste of bile. Not an auspicious initiation of that room. I laid out the several wads of money stuffed in the case by denomination. It was mostly $20 bills, probably the price they charged for the use of the girls. I carefully bagged the cash in several large Zip-Lok bags. The fingerprint people in the lab would have a field day with all those clean prints on the bills. All the time I was working on the contents, carefully bagging the evidence, I didn't even realize I had made the decision to take this to the agency. I was running purely on instinct. There was a vial of clear fluid in the case, stuffed down along one side, semi-protected by being wrapped up in an old rag along with a couple of syringes. It was probably the drug they used on the girls to make them easier to handle at first. There was no label, so it went into another bag along with the two syringes. The lab would figure out what it was, and, with any luck, what company had made it. If it was rare enough or a narcotic, they might even get a lead on the source. Not surprisingly, there were no new needles. Only two used ones, and I could actually see dried blood on them. They obviously didn't care about blood-borne diseases like hepatitis. Or AIDS, or a hundred other minor medical maladies. I had a feeling that the girls would have been used up way before anything like that became a problem, and those bastards knew it. They counted on it. I was closing the case back up when I noticed a shadow on the bottom of the case. There was an unusual bump in the lining. I wasn't expecting anything to be hidden in the case, so I hadn't looked that close. My mistake. Running my fingers carefully around the edge of the case, I finally found a discrete cut hidden along the back seam of the lining material. I ripped it open. I didn't give a shit about the damage, as they wouldn't need it back. OK, so I was a little pissed I'd missed it in the first place. I stared at the exposed bottom of the case. I couldn't believe it. It was a fucking notebook. The kind they use in the labs, with numbered pages. We used to have to use them in school. A dull, chewed up pencil was jammed down the spine for safekeeping. I remember I had done the same with my pencils so I wouldn't lose them. I stared at the damn thing for a long time. I knew- I just knew I didn't want to know what was inside of it. I had this horrible premonition, a burning feeling in the pit of my stomach and it wasn't because I had just vomited. But I had to know. As repulsed as I was by the little book, at the same time, I was irresistibly drawn to it. Not just because it might have some useful information. It was more than that. It was as if this briefcase and particularly this little book were my future, my destiny, in some mysterious way. And somehow, I knew it. Not with my link, not any parapsychological stuff. I just knew. In my gut. I think I had known what it was, how bad it was going to be for a long time, too. That's why I had shut the existence of the battered briefcase out of my consciousness until now. Even though I hadn't known the little book was hidden in the bottom of the briefcase, I couldn't bring myself to open the case. And now I knew in the same way that this little book would change my life. I mean, just think of everything that could have happened that would have kept it from me, for me not to have found it. All this time, it could have been lost or forgotten, burned in the building or trashed by looters only interested in the cash. But here it was. Just sitting there in front of me. Like a death sentence. I eased open the cover, hoping I wasn't opening a Pandora's Box. The handwriting in the book was a childish print, the letters large and laborious, the words short and simple. I tried to think back to that night, to the characters I had met, and killed, in the cellar. I dismissed the buyer, the third man. This wasn't his case. Then there was `Yellow Hat.' But he would have either written with a girlish script or would not have been able to write at all, probably the latter. He would have beaten up the smarter kids and threatened them to get them to do his homework. Yeah, he would have done that, at least until he figured out that he could bully most of the inner city teachers easier and not have any homework at all. That left just the bodyguard. And that made sense, when I thought about it. Not too bright, but smart enough to know that he had to write things down to remember them, to get them right. And smart enough to keep it a secret that he was keeping a journal of sorts, a record of everything. As I skimmed through it, this record was more than just a little incriminating. Even this dummy knew it was a stupid thing to do. Simone must have seen him writing in the notebook when Yellow Hat wasn't there and realized what it was. That was why she had known the case was important. Not because of the pictures or the money, but because of the incriminating history in this dog- eared journal. Important was an understatement. As the extent of what I was reading sunk in I was filled with a tremendous sense of dread. It was too horrible, too ghastly, too God damned easy for the bastards to do this and get away clean. Yellow Hat and `Dumbo', as I had dubbed the author of the book, subsisted at the lowest end of a long food chain, an large organization of human flesh peddlers. These two were the bottom-feeders, the lowest of the low in a despicable network of white-slavers. But that wasn't entirely true, if the Polaroids were any indication. They didn't seem care what color the victim was. These people were the scum of the earth. Flotsam in the septic tank. You get the idea. This pair took delivery of various `goods' and delivered or bartered them to others higher up the chain. They were opportunistic and indiscriminate. Drugs, kids, video tapes, money, or sealed envelopes - it made no difference to them. They just picked up and delivered and, if they could turn a little profit on the side, so much the better. No one cared if the merchandise was a little damaged. It was only going to get used up anyway. Dumbo, being the deliveryman, had written down addresses, descriptions of cars, license plate numbers, descriptions of the contacts, telephone numbers, dates, amounts paid in and out, and what was picked up and delivered. The level of detail in the list was astounding and beyond incriminating. I reined my excitement in as I read the list of names of the victims. Simone's name was the last one on his list. I stifled the urge to vomit again. As dead as these two were, I didn't think that Simone's was the last snatch the larger group would have made. It was too well organized, too slick, too hidden. It either existed completely hidden from the authorities, or it was supported by them. I didn't even want to think about the latter. I kept reading, wondering all the while if there was another reason why he had written everything down. I didn't think he was keeping the log for blackmail. He wasn't smart enough to pull that kind of a scheme off. No, he wasn't trying to rat out his boss. Dumbo was just trying to do a good job, the loyal oaf. He simply didn't want to forget anything. The thin book was organized more like a cheap daytimer, a calendar with the important dates up front, a list of contacts along with addresses and telephone numbers in the back, and the directions to various places in the middle along with other notes. As I read more of the pages, I could better understand the thought patterns of Dumbo. I was able to organize what I learned and it was stunning. I had to sit down. It was appalling. From the entries in the ledger, there appeared to be at least two primary sources of `goods' for this duo, two specific revenue streams. Each source provided a different kind of merchandise, but both were equally lucrative. The first source, the one Yellow Hat obviously preferred, was the simplest kind of snatch. This was the type of crime they were most familiar with and it's what they were probably doing when they were recruited for the second, more complicated criminal activity. The `easy' crimes were actually initiated by the serendipitous procurers like the man that had picked up Simone. Those were the non-descript men who took the biggest risks. They appeared to be `cruisers,' never in one place very long, as there were only vague descriptions of their vans. The cash transactions always occurred at deserted intersections. The relatively small amounts paid for a snatch surprised me. With the economic law of Supply and Demand at work, what that meant was that there was a readily available supply of young victims, keeping the price low. I could see from his list of buyers that there was a sickeningly strong demand for the kids, once they had snatched one. Dumbo's notebook supported my theory that this happened more than anyone in authority either knew or admitted. These cruisers were generally single men, opportunistic vultures that prowled the vicinity of popular nighttime events like ball games, concerts, state and county fairs, and such. Anything that would attract young people. We've all seen them, too, their prey, those lone waifs wandering aimlessly among the crowds, as they seemed to be destined to do for life. There always seemed to be at least one foolish young kid who would need to get home, or who would strike out alone in anger or rebellion. Or sometimes just to get away. It didn't seem to matter to these cruisers if the straggler was male or female, though they seemed to prefer girls. Young and alone was enough to attract their attention. Yellow Hat had several of these loners that would turn up with a snatch on a fairly regular basis. It didn't seem to be often enough for him to keep a regular place to break the victims, like a safe house. On the other hand, Yellow Hat may just have been a cheap son-of-a- bitch and just didn't want the expenses of securing a regular place. Either way could explain why they were in the abandoned warehouse when I found them. Readily accessible, quiet, and cheap. The frequency of the abductions bothered me. According to these books, this happened regularly. If this was so organized and sinister, why wasn't there more of an outcry? Or maybe there was, and nobody was listening? Or perhaps no one had put together yet that this was an orchestrated crime wave.... Once in the clutches of these two, the victims would be rapidly debased and demoralized by the constant inhuman treatment they were subjected to. No water to drink, only piss. No food to eat, only shit. Constant sexual abuse and humiliation. The victims had no way to rest, no chance to regroup once they were handed off to Yellow Hat, if their treatment of Simone was any indication. The young kids probably went irreversibly insane in short order, probably within two or three days. Nothing they would have encountered before could possible prepare them to resist this inhumanity. They wouldn't be any problem to handle after that point, as they would most likely be in a near-catatonic state. The drug or whatever it was they injected into the victims no doubt helped speed the process along. Dumbo had kept a careful list of buyers of this kind of merchandise, along with a simple preference of `boy' or `girl' or `both.' Since these kids could turn up missing at some point in time when they didn't return home, I figured their life span was pretty short after the snatch. I mean, how many missing kids could the authorities simply discount as simple run-aways? Someone was bound to report one missing, and insist the kid hadn't run away, sooner or later. So this initial process would have to be short and fast. There were several buyers in Dumbo's book who were ready at the drop of hat, opportunistic vultures. It appeared I had located Simone just in time. Another hour or even less and she would have been gone. As horrible as this first scheme was, it was their other source of material, and what that material was and how it was so easily obtained, that filled me with the greater dread, however. I had to get a grip on my terror several times as it became clear to me that this was, in fact, happening right here. In fact, unless I missed my bet, I knew at least one person who was one of their victims. Possibly more. As I worked my way through the notebook, I recognized a chillingly logical and frightening pattern emerging. It gradually dawned on me that I had battled against this same kind of organized evil once before. The targets were different, but the tactics were the same. I suspected the people were the same, too. There were too many similarities, too many of the same quirks in the organization, the recruitment methods. I had witnessed the same insidious tendrils of slime winding the hallways of more than one government, and not just mine. As it became apparent to me to what extent these bastards had penetrated into the very fabric of our society, and the level of sophistication needed to pull off what these people were doing right under our noses, I realized I didn't have the access in my home office that I needed. I needed to be sure of my suspicions. Fuck, I was sure. I needed to be positive. Absolutely. Instinctively, I wrote my report, just like I had been trained so many years before. I never even gave a thought that I was no longer an active agent, I just wrote it up. On paper with a pen. I wasn't going to trust the electronic media with this one, not with all the hidden Internet connections and hackers out there. The only safe way was hardcopy, one copy, and hand delivered. I got in my car and took it to the anonymous building downtown. I hand-carried my report in through security and placed it personally into the hands of the Analyst, along with the briefcase, notebook, photos, money, and drugs. I also handed him a sealed envelope separately. It was a game we had played since we had started working together. I would do the field work on some project, then try to do his job, too, by writing out what I suspected the analysis would turn up. I was often wrong, and it had pleased him to no end to `educate' me, pointing out where I had gone wrong in my assessments. I didn't like his attitude, but I did listen to him. And I learned. I don't think he realized that I hadn't been wrong very often towards the end of my service. This time, I had written a name on a piece of paper and sealed it inside. I asked him to do his analysis first, then see if he came to the same conclusion I had, with respect to this one name. He grinned confidently, knowing the rules of the game. I didn't know if I wanted to be right or wrong. Chapter 62 During the renovation of the new house, Sally had suggested restoring the basketball court that I had practiced on growing up. I had played endless games of one-on-one with Mac on that old broken concrete slab and it held many fond memories. It felt good to have Janey and Simone using it now. They had chipped in their own money to get a fancy backboard and a new hoop and net. They got a book of rules that had the specifications for the lines for the key and the baseline and had painted the lines with professional accuracy. Together with the new concrete slab, it looked great when they were done. Janey's friends from her old school were just a little too far away to come over after school, but they made up for it on Saturday and Sunday. We could count on a serious depletion of the stores of soft drinks and snacks by Monday morning. I never knew how she did it, but Sally always had enough of what everyone wanted on hand, no matter how many hungry kids showed up to play or just hang out. She had a gift for that kind of thing, the perfect hostess. Or she had a huge cache of soda and snacks that I never found. I don't know which. Simone took a different tact. She knew most of the kids from Janey's school, but since she was spending a lot more of her time these days with Gertie and the other scientists at the Agency and the rest of her time at home reading, she decided she wanted her own set of friends. Without telling us, she started attending the local public school, the same one I had attended, on her off time. She never registered as a student, she just showed up for classes. She discovered that as long as she didn't turn in a paper with her name on it, no one cared that she wasn't on the class roster. When we found out where she was going on those days when she disappeared from the house, - we flat out asked her - Nicole and I discussed it and decided to let her do it on her own for as long as possible. I did a little checking just to be sure she would be safe, then kept an eye on her. A close eye. My high school had changed a lot since I had gone there, reflecting the changes in the neighborhood. It had been a pretty decent school before forced bussing policies had delivered some other out of district white kids to it. When they started the bussing, the school had gone to Hell in a hurry, which was the height of irony. The reason my school had been selected to be desegregated in the first place was because it was felt that sending white kids to a `good' black school wouldn't harm them as much academically as sending them to a `poor' black school. Fucking educators. No fucking brains. Give some asshole a Ph.D. and all you get is a smart-ass. They have never understood the community pride that goes into a making an empty building into a good school. You can't bus across community lines. You can't force it, it has to happen naturally. There is too much emotion involved. Parents send their children to schools, children they love, children they care about. They send them with their neighbor's kids, kids they know and have seen growing up. They want those schools to be in the neighborhoods where they have chosen to live. They like to know their children are not going to be influenced or challenged by outside forces. Not just yet, anyway. Let the kids mature, grow up first. When Simone started attending the school, it was more like I remembered it at the beginning. With the end of the bussing, there were only local kids attending. Of course, there was a little more of a racial mix in the student population than when I had attended, so Simone didn't stick out quite like Marion and I had. We had been the only two white kids in the whole school. Talk about sticking out! Part of the area surrounding our property had been renovated and rebuilt. Some of the worst abandoned apartment buildings and most of the uninhabitable places had been torn down and new condominiums and apartments built. The dilapidated warehouses along the riverfront in both directions from our property had been demolished and large luxury homes now lined the banks of the river. Thorny had been one of the first to follow my father to this dubious area and had built on a much smaller piece of riverfront adjacent to ours. The common wall between our properties had the only other opening through the wall surrounding us, other than the main gate. We had never locked that gate to Thorny's house. There were still a lot of rent-controlled apartments around, however. The city officials in this town had either been too lazy or too stupid to intervene with the natural selection taking place and the strange mix that evolved seemed to work. The people living here took obvious pride in their homes and stores. Lawns were mowed in the summer, rusting wrecks were not strewn about the streets. Block parties were common in the summer and the local community social hall maintained a regular schedule of well publicized events to bring people together. Sure, there was the occasional confrontation, but in general the people knew and liked their neighbors. The ones who made the effort necessary to meet them, anyway. This was the neighborhood where Simone found the players for her pickup games on our basketball court during the week. Janey was usually home too late to play, so this was Simone's time. Janey would enter in if she was there, but found herself in the unusual situation of being the outsider. Simone made it known that our court was open to anyone who wanted to play, male or female. Being out from under the shadow of Janey allowed her to develop into her own person. I found I liked that person very much. Many others were attracted to her, as well, and the games quickly came to be well attended. I noticed, after watching for a couple of days, that one boy in particular seemed to show up almost every time. Over time, I noticed that when he picked players, he would always pick Simone, and I thought I could see her eyes shine a just bit brighter. On the days when rain drove the kids off the court, the game room, as it was now called, became the center of the after school activity. I swore the kids would all be deaf in a matter of months, as the only volume settings they used seemed to be `Off" and `Max.' Fortunately, Sally had had the foresight to insulate that room extra well. I often wondered how she knew how to prepare for these things, but, like most men, I didn't have a snowball's chance of figuring it out. She just knew. Sally had soundproofed the room so well we only heard the occasional tsunami of sound crashing down the hallway as the door opened and closed. As rare as that was, it was still deafening. One afternoon I heard a strangely familiar laugh mixed into the roar of the video games. Not believing my ears, I walked down the hallway and looked in through the glass French doors. There, sitting surrounded by a scraggly group of neighborhood ruffians was my darling sister, Marion, the US Federal Judge. Her face flushed with excitement, she was engrossed in one of the less violent of the video games, intent on kicking the stuffing out of her opponent. She was getting in some good punches, too, which caused even more hoots and hollers from the crowd. Simone, one of the group crowded around watching, glanced up as I watched through the door. I saw a flicker of concern pass across her face, then she slipped away and came out to me in the hall. I noticed one young man's attention diverted from the action on the wide-screen TV to watch her ass as she walked by him. Ah, youth! "Papa? Is everything OK? We're not being too loud are we?" I gave her a quick hug. "No. Everything is fine. I just thought I heard Marion in there and thought I would check. I didn't know we could join in, too. It looks like fun." I was teasing her a little, but only a little. Simone got a look of horror on her face, then got herself under control. "Uh, Papa, it's different with Marion. She, uh, well, she's lived here longer and, like, she knows most of these kids and uh, well, um, you know...?" I would have sworn she was uncomfortable with the thought of my being in that room. I got the distinct impression I wasn't welcome. Imagine! "Well, as long as she isn't bothering you. Uh, I'm kind of busy today anyway. Tell you what. You let me know when you want me to play and we'll see if it will fit into my schedule, OK?" Simone's relief was palpable and so overwhelming that she didn't realize I was teasing her. Then she got a guilty look on her face. "It's OK, Simone. Really." I gave her a light kiss on the forehead. She hated when I did that, but she felt so guilty, I got away with it. Ha! I watched as she eased back into the room, part hostess and part participant. I was quickly forgotten as she approached that certain young man, her hips swinging with just a touch more sass than before. He and I both appreciated her efforts. She gave him a blinding smile as she spoke with him in passing. He gave her a punch in the arm. I could tell the kid needed help. JT, as he was called, showed up at the backdoor one day when Simone was in Washington with Gertie. Nicole, who was working at home that day, showed him into my office. He kind of stood there for a couple of minutes, shuffling his feet nervously. "What's up, JT?" "Oh, uh, nothing, Mr. Sampson." I waited. Nicole's smile as she walked away had been a little too smug for this discussion to be about `nothing.' "Uh, Mr. Sampson? Can I ask you a question?" Damn, I had only had to wait a couple of minutes. This must be urgent! "Sure. What's on your mind, JT?" "Well, it's kind of personal. `Bout basketball. And, uh, `bout girls." Oh, shit! He jumped right in. "Why is it, when I pick Simone for my team, she plays hard to win, but when she picks the teams, she never picks me? Then, when she guards me, she's always, well, bumping and rubbing against me. Not hard, with her elbows and stuff like she does with the other guys, but, well, you know...?" I knew. You could say one thing for the kid, he got right to the point. None of this `I know a friend...' stuff, or `there's this girl....'" Straight to the point, him and Simone. OK. I got up and took him out to the basketball court. On the way by the kitchen I called Sally and Nicole out to join us. Not surprisingly, they seemed to be dressed and ready to play. These two were getting scary. "Let's play some two-on-two. Why don't your pick one of the women for your team, JT?" He looked at me funny. "Go ahead. Pick one for your team, JT." I felt like drawing a map, sometimes. He looked at the two women. I could tell he favored Nicole. She looked a lot like Simone in her cut off T- shirt and short-shorts. She had fixed her hair different, too, so she looked more like her daughter. I got a little distracted by her new look and realized I could get used to that look in a hurry. She saw me staring and was pleased at my response. Such simple pleasures. Nicole was also taller than Sally, but I think JT sort of took a shine to her for other reasons. I thought I saw Nicole `help' him look her over, as I saw her nipples poking out through the thin material of her shirt, which seemed to get tighter across her chest as JT examined the two women. Sally was playing her part, too, I understood, for once quite and demure and standing to look shorted, if that were possible. That was not like her at all. "Her," he said, indicating Nicole. She smiled brightly at him and we played a quick basket. Sally held her own against him and I got a couple of sharp elbows from Nicole. Not enough to hurt, but enough that I knew she meant business. This kid was important to her because he was important to Simone. If I hadn't figured that out by then, which I had, I would have during that basket. When the basket was over, I held the ball. "Now let's switch." He looked puzzled, but kept quiet. I was going to like this kid, I could tell. This basket took much longer. Much. I nearly molested Sally right there on the court. Hell, I did molest her, and she loved it. JT's eyes bugged out as he watched how closely I guarded the smaller blonde's body, especially at where I put my hands. Nicole, playing her part to perfection, nearly poked his eyes out with her tits while she guarded him. She even accidentally let her hands run over his crotch, several times, in fact. I thought the kid would die from embarrassment, but he kept trying to play and get the ball to Sally. Finally, the ball went through the hoop, and I held the ball again. "Now, JT. I want you to think. Which way did you like better? Playing with Nicole, or against her?" He thought a minute. "We won when she was on my team." "Did you really? You may have scored the basket, but is that the real reason for this game?" "Yeah, but, ..." I could almost see him blush when the light went on. "You mean...? Simone wants...?" I grinned at the dumbfounded - and severely embarrassed boy. "Yeah, apparently she does." I shrugged. "Go figure! But I would suggest that you ease into it gently, and, speaking as her father, hardly at all. And JT? Never, ever do more than what she lets you, understand?" He understood my implied threat. "Would you want to try it again?" Nicole asked him sexily. She giggled delightfully at his obvious erection and discomfort. Sally and I glanced at each other. From the size of the bulge in his shorts, Simone had chosen very well, indeed. It was a bizarre thing to watch, a mother teaching a boy the proper technique to feel up her daughter. Several `not so hard' and `no, like this' comments were eventually replaced by a rippling laughter and some serious gasps. Nicole kept looking over at me for approval as she let the boy manhandle her. It was a different feeling I wasn't sure I liked, but Nicole seemed to be enjoying herself. I called a halt to the lesson when I felt the boy had the general idea. I figured Simone could teach him the rest of the game. Or not. That was up to her. When JT was gone, both of the women thanked me. Right there under the basket. He shoots, he scores! Simone came in a couple of days later, flushed from the exertions of the game. "Did you have a talk with JT, Papa?" It was almost an accusation, and her hands on her hips didn't make her look all cuddly, either. I nodded that I had. She seemed to think about that for a minute. "Thanks," she said, finally. I went back to my computer. "I kind of like him. He's nice." I looked back up at her. She was asking if I approved. "I like him, too, Simmie. He reminds me a lot of Mac when he was his age." At the mention of Mac and JT being favorably compared, she smiled proudly. I think Mac had just lost this maiden's heart to another. I'm not sure if he would be disappointed or relieved. I wasn't sure how I felt, either. Simone kissed me on my cheek and skipped off to her room. Her daughterly kiss left me with a strange feeling in my chest. I decided I liked it, kind of. This parenting thing had its rewards. Janey was commuting to school and seemed to have come to terms with having to use her Mom's old car to do it. I knew we had overcome a major hurdle when I heard the `thump-thump' of a new stereo system and saw her detailing the car with an old toothbrush. She had just waxed it for the third time in two weeks and was getting all that white waxy build-up out of the cracks between the chrome and the paint. Her cheerleading career was at its zenith. She had been elected as the head cheerleader and was taking those responsibilities very seriously. She had decided that the whole process of selecting the girls for the squad needed to be overhauled to allow for more participation from groups outside the `in' crowd. I figured that idea would be blown out of the water, but, as usual, I underestimated Janey's capabilities. She knew the opposition she would face with that suggestion. She lobbied and politicked the idea into reality. Next year's squad would be made up of kids from several of the more identifiable factions in the school, from the `geeks,' to the 4-H-ers, to the wall- flowers and other wanna-bes that normally just stood on the sidelines. Attendance at the games, by both kids and parents was way up already over previous years, and the team wasn't doing that great. People just felt like they were a part of the school again. Sally had mentioned that Janey would be home later than usual on Mondays and Wednesdays. She would be stopping by Amud and Bala's house on the way home to continue her `education' in their culture. That practice soon expanded to Monday through Thursday. Janey was really serious about all of this. While she was extremely popular with a wide range of kids at school, Janey didn't date anymore, and soon stopped going to parties that weren't at our house. A lot of that was because of homework - she still maintained her high grades - but she just seemed to have lost interest in the social whirl. Sally didn't seem to be concerned but I confronted Janey about it one afternoon. She got this puzzled look on her face, like, why should I be worried? When I explained that I was concerned that her lack of interest in boys and dating might have been a result of what had happened earlier, she solemnly nodded. She then proceeded to explain that she still liked boys - she called them `men' - but that the boys at her school were just too juvenile. She was looking for more maturity, among other things. I figured I'd better stop while I was ahead. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what `other' things she was looking for. I immediately cornered Sally. Had she talked with Janey about this? Did she think Janey's expectations were too high? Was she OK with all of this? Sally, too, patiently answered my questions, just a bit amused at my fatherly concerns, even if they were belated. Janey was growing up, she said, and it wasn't unusual for a young girl to shun social contacts with kids her own age, especially when forced to meet life head-on as Janey had been. Some girls matured much faster than boys and felt uncomfortable with them. She trusted Janey. In other words, butt out. But thanks! The Saturday basketball games were played with a different crowd of kids. These were the kids from the other school, mostly Janey's friends. Simone hung around the edges, but it was clear none of the other week-day kids showed up, not even JT. It was probably for the better, but it didn't sit right, watching her just stand there. It wasn't Janey's fault, either. She kept pulling her in and including her, but it was just not a good fit. After the second week of watching this awkwardness, I grabbed Nicole and - not THAT way, Geez! Anyway, I located Nicole and walked with her out to the garage. I caught Simone's eye on the way by the basketball court and motioned her to follow us out towards the garages. We opened up Simone's bay and stood staring at the jumble of boxes and crates. "Well, it isn't going to build itself! What do you say we get busy?" Two squeals of delight were my answer. I knew they had both devoured the instruction manual in the first three or four weeks. Simone had been amazed at the technical aspects of the task while Nicole had found two minor errors in the specifications. I just shook my head. I hadn't read it. Being a guy, I knew the manual was only there if I couldn't figure it out on my own. When all else fails, read the directions, right? Before we began doing anything, Nicole, who naturally took charge of this task, had us inventory and inspect each and every piece. Several of the larger pieces were hauled down to a specialist's shop she knew of and each piece was tested for stress fractures along the seams and welds. Surprisingly, only three parts failed the extra inspection, all of them non-critical but nonetheless, sent back for replacement. As Nicole said, this was her daughter's car we were building, not just some hunk of metal. I agreed. That was how Saturday became the day for Nicole, Simone and I to work on the car. It was a unique experience, working that closely with a beautiful woman willing to do anything to please you, even when covered in grease. It became expected that at least once, but usually more often I would ease myself into Nicole's willing and waiting cunt or asshole or mouth. When that would happen, Simone would slip out of the garage, discretely timing her return until after we had completed our screwing around. Usually she came back with soft drinks for the three of us. Only once, when I was unzipping for the fourth time, did she roll her eyes. But she was grinning as she left, her Mom's satisfied and lustful moans escorting her out the door. That car was taking forever to build. Thank goodness! Sunday's were family days. At home. Sally and Nicole would fix light snacks and have them available in the big family room above the entryway. Marion would join us almost every Sunday, and soon, other friends began dropping by. Amud informed me that Sally and Nicole had quietly urged he and Bala to make this a regular thing, something he and his wife seemed eager to do. Mac, CeCe and Beth would drop by when he was in town. I was pleased that he seemed relaxed in the old house and in general with his new relationship. The tone of those days, even when he was there, was quiet and relaxed with good food and good conversation. Good friends are a great treasure. Janey and Simone would often use the opportunity of Sunday to cuddle with me, not sexually, but as daughters. Janey in particular seemed to need to just be close. She would be quiet as she curled up next to me in one of the huge pillows, attentively following the conversations that swirled around us. Simone would occasionally snuggle up on the other side, unless Mac was there. In that event, she would usually be tormenting that poor man somehow. Even though JT was in the picture now, I don't think she could help herself. Instinct, I guess. I had given Nicole the Bugatti as a wedding gift. I had thought it was something she would like, but I was wrong. She loved it. Adored it. She showed her appreciation to me over and over and over. And over. I mean, it's not that we had that much more sex than normal, well, we did, but then we had more sex than normal before I gave her the car. It's not that she did any thing different when we made love, either. I guess it's that she just did it with more feeling or something. Attitude, maybe? It's hard to explain, so I'll leave it at that. She drove the car back and forth to her work at the Rosen's clinic. She didn't work there every day, and she began to look forward to those days she could drive. I drove with her once to The Guild after she had become familiar with the car and the road. She had found back roads almost the entire way that wound through the countryside. I had never been as terrified of dying in my life as I was on that ride. I was certain I would not see tomorrow. It's not that she was careless or a poor driver. Just the opposite. She drove that little racer to the limits of its capacity for the conditions of the road. And beyond. She and the machine became one living, breathing beast. She owned the fucking road. I thought perhaps she was driving this way to impress me, but she confessed that she had actually backed off for my benefit. This was the first time for her to drive with two people in the car and the weight distribution was unfamiliar. It was more familiar to her on the way home, and I swear I almost wet myself as we flew on the road by the quarry. I forced myself to ride with her as often as I could. I didn't have a death wish, I just liked to deal with my fears head-on, although that's probably not the best term to use in this case. `Head-on' was the last thing I wanted. A ride with Nicole driving the sports car made me glad to be alive, especially when it was over. It made me want to kiss the ground after we arrived at our destination. I did on several occasions. Sally, of course, was predictably envious, in her own quiet way. She understood the attachment Nicole had for that particular car, but still, the specialness of that gift to her co-wife certainly stuck in her craw. She sulked around the house for a couple of weeks until I innocently suggested she go shopping with Nicole over at The Guild for the afternoon. Just an easy afternoon, two women out for a casual drive to go shopping. She was ashen and pale when I saw her later that evening, and she never said another word about the car. She never rode with Nicole again voluntarily, either. I treated Sally and Nicole differently. They had asked me to. Still, I knew that I had to be careful and maintain a reasonable balance. I was spending a lot of time with Nicole for various reasons, and I knew, even though Sally wasn't keeping score, that I needed to do something for her. Hell, I needed to be with her, too. I was stumped for a solution. Then I had an idea. And, yes, this one actually worked out OK! For Sally's birthday I gave her a small gold box. The box held an engraved golden plaque, about the size of a business card. The words on the plaque read `1:00-2:00 M-F.' Her disappointment was palpable but was only slightly greater than her befuddlement. She didn't understand what I meant, why I would give this to her as a gift. I didn't elaborate, just asked her to show up tomorrow at 1:00. So, on that first day, at 1:00 sharp, she came to me in the office. She was stark naked, and more than a little upset, thinking I just wanted to have sex with her. Well, I did, but that wasn't the point. I explained to her that what I had wanted to give her was a special time everyday that was just hers, for whatever she wanted. I told her why, that I missed her and that I wanted to be with her, but that this time was for her mostly. Sure, we could have sex, too, but if she wanted to talk, to shop, to cuddle, to play basketball, or to take a nap then that's what we would do. I only made two requirements, it had to be something she wanted to do and it had to be with me. When she realized what her gift really was, she too, showed me her appreciation over and over and over. And over. All in all, it was a pretty satisfying time. Even the shopping. Ok, almost. Chapter 63 I was riding with Nicole in the Buggatti, scared out of my mind as usual, when I suddenly found my face pressed up against the windscreen. Nicole was transfixed, staring blankly out the windshield, gripping the steering wheel with both hands in a death's grip. Her foot was still jammed on the brake, the finely tuned engine idling smoothly under the hood. I heard the birds chirping, replacing the whistling wind and my not infrequent screams of terror. Then I felt it. Nicole turned to me, eyes wide. I wasn't sure if she was terrified or overjoyed. Or something else. "Master." Not a question. Not spoken. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. It was over the link. Nicole had found her connection. As quickly as it was there, it was gone. We sat there for a while, trying to reconnect, looking for the key. We drove back to the beginning of the skid marks on the pavement, thinking it might have been that particular spot in the road, like a nexus in the warp of time and space. Hey, after all the things we had tried before, there was nothing weird we wouldn't consider. I worried, as the link faded, that Nicole would be disappointed. Well, I have never figured women out yet, and I was so wrong this time, it amazed even me. She was ecstatic. She was thrilled. Overjoyed. And grateful. Very, very grateful. We would have to wash off the hood of the car. Again. Sally knew instantly what had happened as soon as we walked in the door. She took one look at Nicole, gave a little squeak and the two collided in a joyous, bouncing hug, dancing around the kitchen in happiness. Hell, I knew it was important to Nicole. I just didn't have a clue how much it meant to her. Or Sally. We continued to drive together after that, Sally insistent upon it now, hopeful that we would connect again. Sally and Nicole, unbeknownst to me, had spent hours trying to connect on their own. Failing, they had concluded that if it were going to happen, it would have to be with me. My link was stronger and different than Sally's and it was growing stronger almost daily. I think we tried had too hard, and, after that one blip, we tried even harder. Then, as I thought back, reconstructing the event, I noticed that neither one of us had been seeking the link at that particular point in time. I had been scared shitless, my usual condition in the passenger seat. Nicole had been totally focused on her driving, the roads being slightly slick. One afternoon I turned to Nicole, pale and sweating from fear. "Nicole, I want you to take me to the Rosen's. As fast as you can. Take the route by the quarry." "Yes, Master. Should I point out that you do not particularly like that road? It has many corners." "I know. I need to get to clinic. Fast." The concern in my voice convinced her I was serious. The slight quiver of terror at what I was about to experience helped convince her. I know they say that fear of the unknown is a powerful motivator. I would have taken that fear any day over the certain terror I knew I was going to experience on that road. Sharp corners, no fences, sheer drop-offs into the black waters 50 feet below. It was the stuff of nightmares and I had just volunteered to do it at top speed. Nicole drove like a woman possessed. She thought I was ill or needed to be at the clinic. I only hoped I wouldn't need to be in one by the time the ride was over. I hoped that the link wouldn't kick in on a sharp corner. I hoped that I was right. We were getting desperate, and desperate times call for desperate measures, so I've heard. The way I figured it was that Nicole's mind was such a flurry of thoughts going in a million ways at once that there was just too much interference for the link to work normally. I know it didn't make sense with her being so smart and all and she couldn't link, but Simone could and she was presumably even smarter than her mother. But I had my theory about that, too, having to do with Simone's trauma and stuff. If I was right, driving was the one thing that Nicole loved, maybe even more than me. It totally absorbed her, involving all of her faculties, skill and cognitive processes. By clearing her mind of other extraneous thoughts, it might also allow us to link, for that part of her mind to come through. It happened on a slow corner, thank God. It was the second turn of a four turn combination and she had down- shifted in preparation of accelerating us through the last two turns. I had been prepared for the link when it came, so I noticed before she did. When she did sense it, she again slammed on the brakes, almost sending us sailing out into the quarry. Against my better judgement, I yelled across the link, "Drive, Nicole, Drive!" I could tell when she figured it out, what I was doing. The burst of sunshine over the link was blinding, growing stronger the more she focused on her driving. I felt her bemusement, Shit, she was laughing at me, as she sensed the pureness of my terror. She could not comprehend the feelings I had at not being in control of the vehicle, at having to trust her skill. Not that I didn't trust her driving. It's just that I had to, and it scared the living fuck out of me. We made it to the Rosen's clinic in record time, then turned around and came back faster yet. We stayed linked most of the time, only occasionally losing touch. The more we connected, the easier it seemed to be for her, the more she was able to do it at will. Granted, she was still new at this, but if I knew Nicole, she would be totally focused on this until she had mastered it completely. She had wanted this for so long she was not going to let this go ever again. Sally felt Nicole for the first time that night. They shared an orgasm so intense, that both of them were flopping around on the mattress. Janey and Simone had felt it as well and they all had a good cry over it. Happy tears, but they still left wet spots on the sheets. It was a few weeks after the race to the Rosen's that I got a call from a nearby law enforcement officer. Apparently several officers had clocked an antique foreign-made sports car-type vehicle they thought was registered to me travelling at excessive speed. It was an area Nicole had to drive through to get from our house to the Rosen's Clinic. He asked me if I knew anything about it. "Who was driving it officer?" "Uh, we don't really know, Mr. Sampson. Our, uh, officers couldn't apprehend the driver. In fact, we could only get close enough to catch a couple of the numbers on the plate. We think it's your vehicle. But we're not positive." "The driver wouldn't stop?" "Well, uh, it's kind of embarrassing, sir. We aren't sure the driver even knew we were there. Those roads are awfully tight and twisting. The cruisers we drive couldn't keep up with that little car." He really did sound apologetic. And embarrassed. "Oh, I see." I thanked him and rang off. I confronted Nicole with this conversation. Her blas‚ attitude about it bothered me. "But Nicole, they can take away your license if you get caught!" "License? What license? I don't have a license! I don't need to take a stinking driver's test. I KNOW how to drive!" She was emphatic. I was shocked, even though, by now, I shouldn't have been. So I made her a deal. Actually, I intended that it be more of a threat. I told her that any cop that caught her got to spend the evening with her in the dungeon. Doing whatever. And she paid all the fines and court costs with her own money. Nicole thought I was bluffing. She said I was too jealous to go through with that. That was a big mistake, challenging me like that. Later I realized that she thought of it as a win-win type of situation and that she had suckered me into it. She got to drive like a bat out of Hell with my permission and, if she got caught, she got to have a session in the dungeon, again with my permission. I realized too late I had been the one who had made a mistake, but being the kind of guy I am, I felt I had to keep my word. So I decided to make matters worse. Of course! I hauled her up to the bedroom and told her to dress in her canary yellow bikini, the one she had been tormenting all the high school boys with around the pool all summer. The one that was hardly there. It's small even by French standards, and you have to remember that they go topless on most of their beaches. While she was changing, I went down to the dungeon and got a few items. She sashayed down the stairs when she had changed. She was excited and it was clearly visible. The minx has removed the lining of the suit at some point this summer and it was as good as transparent. I hated to think what it would be like when it was wet. I called her over to me and fastened a thick collar around her neck. This was not her normal slave collar. This one was the kind you see in the BDSM catalogues, with studs and chrome rings and a thick buckle. It was designed for show, and definitely gave a clear impression of the submissive inclination of wearer and what kind of sex he/she enjoyed. To this I attached a heavy chrome leash. This was for show as well. I let the leash hang down between her barely covered tits. I turned her around and fastened a pair of heavy-duty handcuffs on her wrists, fastening them behind her back. Then I slipped a light cloak over her shoulders, snapping it closed at the neck. I put her in my car and drove her down to the police station. After a quiet word with the Sargent, I made the same proposition to the officers. Unofficially, of course. If they caught her, they got her. At this point I removed her cloak. As she was standing right there beside me, as beautiful as ever, taunting them with her confidence, you can imagine the excitement the wager caused. While we were there, the Sargent warned his officers that before any prizes, as he referred to Nicole, were awarded, a thorough investigation would be held to ensure that everything had been done by the book. No traps, no excessive chases, no reckless driving, no danger to the public. Only then would the winner get the prize. He turned to Nicole and asked if she agreed with this. "But, of course! It is the same way in France!" she said with more than a touch of national pride, then gently kissed his stunned face. As we left the spellbound audience, she turned to the officers and in a heavy French, and very sexy accent said, "Let ze bes' man..." then noticing she also had the attention of all of the female officers, "...or woman ween!" Her head held high, emphasizing her tits, she made one complete circuit of the squad room to give them all a good look. Then, with a strange look at me, we left. There was a lot of cheering in the squad room as we left that morning. All in all, a weird briefing, but one that managed to hold everyone's interest. I think it turned her on, being bound and exhibited like that in front of a crowd. She knew it wasn't meant to be humiliating or degrading to her, like it had been before. More of a challenge. I know she was excited on the ride back. It was the first time she had ever had sex in a car. The Buggatti was too small and cramped inside. We normally just leaned her over the hood and had sex on the car, not in it. I had left the handcuff keys in the dungeon. We couldn't wait until we got home. As far as I know, Nicole never got caught. I wasn't sure how I felt about the prospect of another man having at her for a night, but the way she drove, I didn't think I had too much to worry about. I did notice she added a sophisticated radar detector and a police band radio to the minimal equipment in the car. (Author's note: I have been informed by a reliable source that a challenge of this nature would never be allowed in any police force, regardless if the force was urban or rural. I debated taking the scene out, but I kept it in, reasoning that this is, after all, a fantasy. I did feel, however, that the learned objection should be noted, even if I ignored it.) Nicole strode into my office one fine afternoon. It was a glorious day outside, the birds were singing and I could smell the flowers from the garden. Nicole tended to be outwardly more aggressive than Sally, but her stride that day was even more forceful than normal. Her hair was mussed, unusual for her. Her eyes were smiling, glittering, smoldering points of happiness. Very calmly she closed all the folders on my desk, then moved them to the credenza. She carefully took my phone, blotter and pencil set and set them next to the folders. I sat there in my chair with a bemused smile on my face, watching her carefully urgent movements, my interrupted work now neatly put away. She knew from prior discussions that I did not like the things on my desk moved. Not at all. So, whatever the occasion, this must be serious for her to do this. The clock and desk lamp were placed on the floor. The desktop was completely bare. She turned to face me, a strange smile on her face. "Lawrence. I need you. Now." With that she lifted me out of my chair by grabbing the front of my shirt. She pulled it open - we'd find most of the buttons later - and proceeded to strip me. Of course, I responded in kind. I took her right there on top of my desk. I mean, she'd gone to all that trouble, after all. Later, much later, I asked what brought this on. I wanted know so I could make it happen again, if I could. She smiled tiredly. It had taken a lot of effort on both our parts to work out her tensions. "It is the car, Master. And this link thing. I love driving so. It excites me, it becomes a part of me as I fly down the macadam. Now when I drive, I can feel that touch of you deep inside me, especially down there where you have planted yourself so well just now. It drives me wild, Master. This energy has been building, this lusty need in me for some time. Today, with the top down, the wind in my face and the gendarmes in pursuit... Oh Lawrence, it was perfect! I think I wet myself from the excitement." God Damn! The fucking car made her horny! Extremely. She lay quietly under me, her face relaxed, just a little of the flaming ember left glowing in her eyes. She sighed. "I apologize to you, Master, oh my lover, my glorious lover, and will accept whatever punishment you give me for making these demands on you and for interrupting your work. But please, do not take the car...." She tapered off, slightly worried now that her need was sated. I eased out of her and sat back down in my office chair, pulling her to her knees between mine. I grasped her head tenderly with my hands and eased her face towards my groin. There was no resistance as she swallowed my re-hardened cock. I moved her head up and down to let her know she could move, then let her take over. I talked to her as she worked on my stiffness. "Well, Nicole, for interrupting my work, I pronounce a sentence of 15 kisses, like the one you are giving me now, to be delivered on my demand," I intoned in my most serious voice. She giggled around my prick, a truly astounding sensation. "As for your making these horrid demands of your Master, for that offense, I sentence you to driving the car for at least one hour everyday or until you are so horny we must repeat the cure." It took her a moment to be sure I was not angry with her. "Now, as for moving the things on my desk, I am going to spank you when you have finished with the first kiss." We both knew that that wouldn't be a punishment either and she threw herself into the blowjob. When I finally ejaculated my cum down her throat, she hugged me fiercely to her. I disengaged from the embrace and positioned her over my knee. As I gazed down at her fabulous ass, I realized it had been a while since our last session. We had all been so busy with the new routines and other things that some of the important things had been ignored. No more. I started slowly, using my bare hand. I didn't often get the chance to deal with her luscious ass and I relished each and every stinging blow. I don't know how long I swatted her, but each cheek was a deeply flushed shade of red by the time I was finished. I had felt, both with our link and my other senses, that Nicole had climaxed two or three times during the spanking. I myself had risen to the challenge again, so I bent her over my still bare desk, her lovely breasts smashed against the smooth blonde wood. Standing up behind her, I slowly penetrated her nether hole, savoring the hot moist suction of her talented rear end. We finished one more time, slowly. Like an obedient slave, she dutifully drove the car as often as she could until she was so horny she would have to jump me. I began waiting for her in the garage. I didn't want her to walk off any of that wonderful excitement. I couldn't wait to collect those 14 remaining kisses. They would be special ones, I knew. Chapter 64 It was 1:15 and Sally wasn't here yet. She hadn't missed a minute of our special time together since the day we had started having it, so naturally, I was concerned. I wandered down through the house, looking for her in the various rooms as I passed them. I heard voices when I finally reached the main floor and I followed the sounds to the kitchen. I immediately sensed that something important was going on, as Sally and Nicole were doing their alternate sentence thing. The third person at the table, a woman I didn't know, but who looked vaguely familiar, watched their performance with a bemused smile on her face. Their coordinated sentences were still disconcerting to me, even now. I don't know that they sensed how disorienting it was to other people. Or if they did, if they even cared. Sally looked up at me when I entered the kitchen, then over at the clock. She realized what time it was, but she didn't seem too upset. I wasn't sure I liked that. I grabbed a cup of coffee, topped up their cups with the pot and joined the ladies at the table. Nicole had sent me a sense over the link, blasted it actually, as she was still getting used to the `volume control', that I was welcome to join. Sally's link asked me to stay as well. As soon as I sat down, both my wives moved over to flank me. It wasn't defensive on their part, it was just the position they normally took, one on each side. What was curious was that, in their psychic mode, their actions were mirror images of each other, down to the position of their hands in their laps. "Larry, this is Jerome's mother, Diane Turner." They used the synchronized talking to introduce the other woman at the table. But I didn't make the connection immediately. Jerome? "That's Simone's friend. You know him as `JT'." Ah-ha! Mama bear here to protect her cub. I sent a probing finger of my link out to this new person and was not surprised by the suspicious thoughts I found. What did surprise me was that her honest curiosity about us, the three of us, was even stronger than her suspicions. She had great faith in her boy, that he could handle himself. She was here to find out what kind of people would be influencing him. Particularly me. "I'm pleased to meet you, Mrs. Turner. JT is a fine boy." God, did that sound as lame as it seemed? Diane sat across from us, considering her first words to me. She had apparently been here a while, or at least long enough to have gotten the idea that our lifestyle and marital relationship were not normal. "Are you Simone's father?" Her tone was accusatory, almost bitter. I let it pass. "She calls me `Papa,' but I am not her father." "Oh. What about the cheerleader?" "Cheerle-... Oh, you mean Janey? No, she is Sally's daughter, not mine. But she calls me `Dad.'" Diane had a look of disbelief on her face. "So. Are you at least married to one of these women? I don't see any rings." She glanced pointedly at our hands. I saw a glance pass between Sally and Nicole, then watched as their hands stole silently under the hem of the shirts they were wearing. Together they lifted up the fabric to expose their piercings in their left nipples. Following their example, I unbuttoned my shirt and moved the left panel aside to show Diane my rings as well. The tall black woman didn't get it right away, then she saw the letters they were wearing and the letters I was wearing. "Shit!" slipped out before she stopped herself. She paused before she continued. "I was worried about the kind of weird rich people that might be influencing Jerome up here. Now don't take it wrong, I don't mind you being rich, especially if you worked for it. Sally here assures me that you do, though I'll be damned if I can figure out when you've got the time..." She looked pointedly at Sally and Nicole, "...or the energy." She seemed to stop herself from continuing down that path. Smiling ruefully at us, she apologized, "I'm sorry I said that. It's just that, well, you," and she pointed her chin right at me, "represent everything that is wrong with the stereotypical black man." She raised her hands to prevent us from jumping all over that statement. "You work hard, you stay home, you are raising not one, but two children and neither one of them is yours. You are not promiscuous, ignoring the fact that you have two wives. At least you're honest enough to marry them both, not leave them in the lurch." She gave an exasperated sigh. "Do you know how many of the single black mothers in this community alone would kill for a man like you?" I assumed the question was rhetorical, so I didn't answer, but just in case I hadn't caught on, two very sharp sets of fingernails suddenly and simultaneously dug into both my legs, both sets dangerously close to the holy land. I nearly farted with the effort to not squeal like a stuck pig, and that started the two women to giggling as they sensed it over the link and then having to suppress the laughter. Served them right. She continued as if she didn't notice, "I guess I really can't complain. My Jerome, JT's dad, was killed in action. And since Simone has been spending time with him, JT has come out of the shell he had built around him after his Dad died. I was worried about him, he was so withdrawn, not doing well in school. I was worried about the gangs getting to him, now that he was missing a father figure. "Simone changed all that. He has even started cleaning his room without me asking him. He is taking special care with his clothing and hygiene. Especially his hygiene. And his grades! He has never done so well in school. I mean, he was always the smartest kid in the class, but now? It's like she is challenging him to do his best." She paused. I knew what was coming. I felt Sally and Nicole's grips tighten on my leg again, encouraging me to be quiet. Geez, give me some credit, will you? "That's why I'm really here, I guess. I'm so happy for him, but at the same time, now I'm even more scared than before. I guess I just needed to know where the girl was coming from, what kind of a family, if she could be counted on not to screw with his head and dump him." She looked at us, her relief evident. "You might be crazy and weird, but you're not cruel. Somehow, I know I can trust you to do right by my boy." Sally and Nicole's grips on my groin relaxed and I could feel the tension flowing out of them. They hadn't been sure of the outcome of this meeting and, somehow, that made me feel a little better. They were mortal, after all. Diane stayed a while longer, actually daring to examine Nicole's rings at close range after a bit. She told how her husband had been killed while stationed overseas. He had been a Major in a Special Forces unit. She had never been told how or where, only that it had been in action, and that he had died serving his country. JT had taken his Dad's death hard, but had never cried that she knew of. He just kept it bottled up inside. She left with an invitation to dinner the following week. It was going to be a special night, with JT and Simone hosting. She asked if that meant they would be cooking, as well. When Sally said it did, Diane just rolled her eyes and said, "I'll bet you $10 we have hotdogs and beans. That's all he knows how to fix." I walked out to the basketball court to check the action a couple of days later. What I found was not exactly the action I expected. The ball was sitting in mid-court, and three couples were there as well, two on the baseline and one at the top of the key. While there was a lot of activity, none of them were actively looking for the basketball. I cleared my throat, and six teens separated guiltily, caught, thank God only figuratively, with their pants down. I decided to establish some ground rules of my own. "JT, what's going on?" I asked him specifically, thus making him responsible. "We, uh , she, uh ..." I stopped him right there and pulled him off to the side. "First, JT, and as you get older you'll understand this better, but first, JT, never, ever blame the woman. It won't work." He looked back at me with a solemn face, taking my statement as wisdom from the ages. God! This kid has got to lighten up! I continued in a more serious vein, but more in keeping with his attitude. "JT, as a man, be a man. Take the responsibility, take charge. And right or wrong, take the blame. Understand?" I raised my eyebrows at him, trying to get him to lighten up. He nodded, still unsure. "Now then, I'll ask you again, what's going on out here?" He looked around, then over at Simone, who had wandered up to us. He grinned, "We, uh, I was resting, sir!" I laughed. "Well, just don't rest too long, OK?" The six of them grinned back, the message understood. From then on I kept the window to my office open whenever Simone had the kids over. I couldn't see the court from there, so I wasn't spying on them. I kept it open so I could hear the `boing-boing' of the basketball as it was occasionally dribbled between the rest periods. What can I say, hormones were raging. Sally popped up to my office and informed me it was time to dress for dinner. I grumbled at her, as I was puzzling my way through a complex international financial transaction that nagged at me. Something was just too sweet with the deal and I wanted to make sure my clients wouldn't be left holding an empty bag if I recommended it to them. I could feel I was almost at the point of seeing the catch, and I wasn't ready to eat dinner. "Now, Master!" came her voice again from the doorway. Something in her exasperated tone cut through the fog in my brain and I gave her my full attention. God, was I glad I did. Sally was wearing an outfit I hadn't seen before. I guess it could best be described as a formal loincloth. And a necklace, her jeweled collar. I idly wondered how she had gotten it out of the safe, but in a rare flash of brilliance for me, I determined it was best if I didn't know how she had figured out the combination to my safe. It would only frustrate me, and right now I was once again totally besotted with her beauty. She noticed me staring at her nakedness and she blushed, both from the joy my attentions still brought her and her frustration at having yet another delay in getting me dressed for dinner. She finally got me to our bedroom and into a similarly brief covering, now completely inadequate given the aroused state my cock was in. It looked more like a window awning with a single support than a loincloth, and Sally and Nicole got a severe case of the giggles as they escorted me down to the dining room. As we entered the rarely used formal dining room, I noticed that all the stops had been pulled out for the evening. Candles, the good china, my family's silver service, and the good linen napkins with the monogrammed silver rings. The large square table was set for 11 people. Sally and Nicole guided me to our places facing the door, bursting out in fits of laughter as it became obvious that the head of my prick was going to poke out above the level of the table. Unless something could be done, there would be 12 for dinner. Nicole, I might add, was similarly attired, her loincloth as brief as Sally's. Her collar was also in place. She had added a pair of high heels to her outfit that lifted her butt nicely. With all the visual stimulation around me, there was no chance in Hell I was going to relax anytime soon. I thought Sally or Nicole would take the initiative and relieve the stress, so to speak, but neither left her place at my side. The four of us waited for the other guests to join us. I heard Janey's voice first. She was in `polite' mode, I could tell. Not nervous, not scared, just on her best behavior. Whoever was with her, the guest was bound to be important. Then Marion's voice chimed in, again trying to reassure whoever was with them by her tone. She had practiced that tone on me all through our growing up and beyond and she did it well. I was curious about who was coming in with them when it suddenly hit me. JT's Mom! Debby, or Dana, no. Diane. Suddenly panicked, I stared at my stubbornly erect member, trying to will it into submission. I guess you know that didn't work. As I heard them coming closer I got more desperate. I grabbed the linen napkin from in front of me and tried to yank the silver napkin ring off the damn napkin. Like a Chinese finger puzzle, the harder I pulled on it, the more it stuck, until it gave with a sadistic suddenness. The cloth I was hoping to cover myself with sailed out into the middle of the table, clearly out of my reach and too far away to get to without totally exposing myself to the group just now entering the dining room. The silver ring, on the other hand, took another route to complete my humiliation. It flipped up into the air, glinting and gleaming in the soft candlelight. The flashes of light from the spinning ring managed to catch everyone's attention, and six pairs of eyes watched the ring, in agonizingly slow motion, from my perspective, anyway, descend into my lap, landing squarely on the head of my cock, crowning my prick with a crown of softly gleaming silver. We were all stunned by what had happened and were silent, staring at that damned napkin ring/crown. Sally and Nicole, again in unison, started shaking silently, their lovely tits jiggling enticingly. Watching those lovely orbs quaking was not helping my situation at all. "You know, I've always wondered what to do with those damn rings after you take the napkin out. I never thought of doing that, but I'll bet my Jerome would have loved it." Five pairs of eyes swiveled from staring at my cock to staring at this unruffled woman who had just defused a humiliating situation. Then we all laughed, wiping tears from our eyes. Nicole or Sally, I couldn't tell which one, surreptitiously lifted the ring from its awkward perch during the laughter and placed it on the table next to my place setting. Marion, Janey and JT's Mom finished entering the room and sat at our left. Conversation was admittedly a bit less stilted and formal after that, and I could tell I was going to take a lot of ribbing for a long time. Simone slipped in and out of the room, serving wine and bringing in the salad and the soup. There was still no sign of the other guests or of JT, but Simone did not show any concern about the late arrivals. She also showed no sign of having heard the ruckus earlier. I admired her calm demeanor. She was growing up to be a confident and accomplished young lady. I watched Diane watching her. She didn't do it openly, but her attention was never very far away from Simone. Several times I caught a pleased smile teasing the corners of her mouth, as if Simone had just satisfied yet another of the myriad unnamed requirements on some sort of checklist. The common thought is that men are the competitive sex, but it's nothing compared to what women put each other through. Men will accept best effort. Women have to be perfect. Mac's unmistakable voice came booming into the room and I knew the last guests had arrived. I could tell he was nervous about something even before he entered the dining area. He was always about 10 decibels too loud when he was like that and he was really loud now. Mac entered first, ahead of CeCe and Beth. The two women stayed out of sight around the corner of the door, hesitant to come in. Mac was dressed just like I was. Barefoot and an inadequate loincloth was all he was wearing, other than the championship ring he had just won. Somehow his team had pulled it off, winning everything they had to. Even with that effort it had taken a lot of luck, too. The other teams in the league had just folded at the end of the season, allowing Mac's team to slip into the wild card slot. Against all the odds, they won. Mac saw how Sally, Nicole and I were dressed and grinned widely, obviously relieved. He waved merrily at us and then did something very uncharacteristic for him. He turned towards the door and snapped his fingers in a commanding way. It was odd, as he was so gentle and deferential with CeCe, but here he was, ordering her into the room with a snap of his fingers. Beth entered first, her head bowed, her perky breasts bobbing as she tread lightly into the room. As she approached Mac, she stole a glance up at him, and I felt a deep devotion to him over the link. She didn't mind that she was nearly naked, nor did she even know that Sally and Nicole were wearing the same attire as she. She just knew that this was what Mac wanted and that he was pleased with her. Oddly, Beth had a leash in her hands. With a gentle tug, she urged CeCe into the room. CeCe was not dressed like the other three. She had quite a bit more on, but was even more exposed. The tight leather corset and the single glove binding her arms behind her back didn't cover any of her beauty. Or the marks of a recent whipping. CeCe entered and sat opposite Sally. Their eyes met and I felt Sally questioning her silently. I didn't think Sally's link with CeCe was that strong that she could sense her. Sally probably could have with Nicole because of our relationship, but to be honest I wasn't sure about that either. I touched lightly on CeCe and found her very calm, happy and very aroused. I looked over at Sally and relayed what I had found. She relaxed perceptibly with the news. I honestly think she hadn't known that CeCe was going to show up in severe bondage like this. Leave it to Mac to surprise her. As was usually the case with Mac present, he presumed we were all there to hear of his latest exploits on the sports field. Usually he was correct. He had a way of telling the stories that made every other player on the team the hero. To hear him tell it, he was no more important to their stunning turnaround than the batboy. It was an endearing quality, but on this particular evening, there was a hitch. JT's Mom was present. It was obvious from her polite, but brutal dissection of his first sentence that she was not going to sit quietly and listen to him monopolize the conversation with silly sports stories. Diane deftly turned the conversation to other topics, leaving Mac a bit stunned at first, and then challenged to participate in the current conversation. It was the first time I had ever heard his political views aired in public, although he and I had had many conversations about them. Mostly I teased him as he realized that his early liberal beliefs were slowly, but surely blown to smithereens. As he came to realize that all the fucking programs those idiot liberal politicians implemented did nothing to help him or the vast majority of other minorities in the `hood, he began to see that those programs were the very thing that kept most minorities from getting out of their poverty and ignorance. His own success had come about because he had helped himself, no one else. He had not benefited from one single program instituted by the government. Granted, he was talented in sports, but he had also worked harder than anyone else I had ever known to hone those God-given skills. Now that he was actually making some money, Mac was even more apoplectic about the cost of those worthless social programs. He hadn't realized how heavily he was going to be taxed and he resented that the only ones that would benefit from his taxes were the politicians. Them, and those very few people who actually needed the kind of handouts the programs gave them. JT and Simone wheeled in a large serving cart in the middle of the conversation and began serving us dinner. Diane had a smug look on her face when the entr‚e was revealed. Franks and Beans, although her first bite wiped the smugness from her face. I guess we should have warned her that Simone had kind of a heavy hand with the chili peppers and other hot spices. We usually had to use the asbestos toilet paper after she cooked for us. After tonight, with all these beans, we'd probably have to avoid open flames, as well. JT didn't get a good look at Mac until he put Mac's plate in front of him. What with trying not to spill anything and with four naked ladies literally shoving their tits in his face, he had not really bothered to take a look at anybody's faces. The look on his face when he realized who was sitting there was priceless. As was Diane's. She had apparently known of the hero status her son placed on this man. It may have been the 25 posters of Mac that wallpapered his room or the incessant recitation of his lifetime statistics, but a Mom just knows these things, I guess. Suddenly, the reason behind Diane's controlling behavior became clear to me. While her son was a talented athlete, she wanted him to see his hero as more than one dimensional. She wanted him to see that while Mac might be destined for the Hall of Fame, there were other sides to him, too. I smiled as I wondered if she had realized that one of those sides was kinky. I had a feeling that that might have been a bit of a surprise, but to give her credit, she didn't blink an eye when she saw his pecker dangling well below his loincloth. OK, she did stare at it with a look of longing disbelief, but she didn't blink. Not once.... And to give JT credit, when he realized his hero was going to be sitting at the same table, he never gave the eight bare boobs around the table another glance. I guess hero worship beats hormones. He barely paid attention to Simone, a fact that did not sit well at first with the young lady. After several attempts to get his face to rotate even a few degrees in her direction, all unsuccessful, she finally rolled her eyes at her mother. Nicole consolingly laid a gentle hand on her daughter's hand and gave it a few maternal pats. It didn't help, but by that time Simone had resigned herself to losing this one to Mac. I just wondered which of the two, JT or Mac, would be paying for it later. After a surprisingly sports-free dinner, a rarity with Mac in attendance, the ladies adjourned to do whatever ladies do after dinner. I have always suspected that women want guys to think that it is a drudgery to do the dishes and clean up, but having it done myself more than once, there isn't that much to it. And, no, I did more than paper plates and plastic forks... I really think that they just want to get us out of earshot so they can talk. For my part, I was hoping to hear all about what they talked about from Sally and Nicole. JT, Mac and I retired to the family room at the top of the grand entryway. Mac had put an arm around JT's shoulder when he started to wander away to leave Mac and I alone. I thought the buttons would burst off his shirt as his chest swelled with pride at being included by Mac. When the ladies were done talking, they would join us before everyone went home. Simone slipped in once to offer us an after dinner drink, but Mac declined for all of us, saying he didn't want anything that might detract from the enjoyment of the wonderful meal. Leave it to Mac to say just the right thing and get off the hook. I was dying to know about him, Beth and CeCe and what was going on with their relationship, but I didn't think it would be right to ask about them in front of JT. If Mac and I had been alone, I would have bugged the shit out of him, but now I didn't feel I could. With Diane not there to steer the conversation, I figured Mac would revert to his normal self. Again, he surprised me. Mac started asking JT about himself, how he had met Simone, what he wanted to do, how much time he spent with Simone, how his grades were, what he thought of Simone, did he like sports, did he like Simone.... You get the picture. I kept waiting for him to ask the poor kid if he had scored yet, but he held back from going that far. JT held his own, though, answering each question with quiet assurance and seriousness. I could see Mac trying hard not to like the kid, but it didn't work. By the time the women joined us, Mac had resigned himself to being replaced by JT in Simone's life, as if there was anything he could have done about it, or would have done if he could have. Simone had picked JT out of the herd and had picked well. There was considerably less tension in the family room with all of us there. Apparently the women's talk had gone well, too, as Diane left the conversation alone. She seemed relaxed, laughing with the rest of us as Marion and Mac enthralled us with stories of the old neighborhood from when we were growing up. Simone curled up in JT's lap, somehow making their total body contact seem chaste. I could only tell he was bothered by their closeness because of the sweat on his forehead, but then, teenaged girls always have that effect on teenaged boys. Especially when they are in such close proximity. It was a most enjoyable, if uneventful evening. I was sorry to see it end. It was a few days later when Simone came up to me as I was doing one of my favorite things. I was sitting at the dinner table, the every day table, resting after one of Sally's delicious dinners. I was enjoying watching the show Sally and Nicole put on as they finished cleaning up after dinner. Tonight's entertainment was particularly nice as Nicole didn't normally get to help out too much as she was working more and more at the Clinic. She seemed to enjoy being included in the domestic chores from time to time. It let her feel a part of the everyday household. I liked to watch Sally work in the kitchen as it always entailed much bending over and stretching. I realized early on that she enjoyed me watching and usually seemed to take much longer cleaning up, with a lot of bending over and reaching up on her tiptoes on those times I watched. Getting to watch Nicole was a special treat, as she was still not used to my lustful observations of her. It was in pure contrast to her blatant invitations to look at her when she was dressed in her finery. Now that she was wearing her slave clothing, which hid absolutely nothing, she seemed to blush with each bend or stretch. It was very becoming on her, this appearance of innocence. Whenever Nicole helped out in the kitchen, Sally took advantage of her height and had her stretching, for my pleasure, to reach many unnecessary items. Although it was obvious Nicole had caught on to her antics, she went along with them willingly, but blushing profusely. And very prettily. "Papa, do you have any prophylactics?" Simone had come up behind me and stood beside me as I was absorbed in the kitchen ballet. At first, I didn't realize I had heard what she had asked me. Whether it was the uncommon use of the proper term for a rubber, or whether it was because she asked me in plain hearing of her mother and Sally, I don't know. What I do know is it took me a couple of heartbeats to comprehend what she had asked, and the implications of it. Try as I might, I just couldn't convince myself that she and JT were going to have a water balloon fight. I could hear the sudden silence in the kitchen area as two sets of curious ears tuned into what was bound to be an interesting conversation. "Are you doing a science project, Simone?" Hey, I could always hope. She looked blank for a minute, about like what I must have looked like a second before. The she blushed. Stuttering, and obviously now uncomfortable, she took the easy way out. "Uh, yeah, I guess." I guess, my ass. "I think I could rustle up one..." I paused, "...or two. Would that be enough?" I asked innocently. "Uh, I was thinking more like a case. Or two," replying in kind. I heard a muffled gasp, followed shortly thereafter by the sound of breaking crockery as it hit the tiled floor. I didn't see what happened as I was looking at Simone. I assumed that Nicole had dropped them, but I was wrong. Sally had been handing the plates to Nicole and had pulled her hands away to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter, in the process dropping the plates before Nicole even had a chance to reach for them. I could see both women were now fighting the laughter that threatened to burst out. Her hand over her mouth hadn't worked to keep quiet and now, in addition, they had to be careful not to step on the shards of glass with their bare feet. The kitchen floor was now covered in a minefield of ceramic shrapnel. Nicole was in no better shape than Sally, as she was holding her sides and crying, too. Simone didn't understand what it was that she had said that was so funny and looked at me curiously. "Well, Simmie, I think I could find a few more for you when you need them." I paused and took her hand. "Just be careful, OK? I don't want you to get hurt." I pulled her into me and kissed her forehead. "Or JT, either." Imagine the color of beets and you would have a good idea of the color of the young girl. I can't imagine how kids ever think their parents are that dumb, that we wouldn't figure it out. But then, I think back on just how dumb my parents were while I was in High School and I guess it was just my turn. Simone did manage to turn and walk away with dignity, which is more than I can say for the two women who were now howling in the kitchen area. Grabbing a broom and dustpan, I went in to rescue my two damsels in distress. Chapter 65 The phone rang. Picking it up, I hoped it wasn't anyone important. "Sampson? Get your fucking ass down here. Now!" It wasn't. I looked over at the clock. It was just 12:55. It was too close to Sally's time. She was more important. In fact, she was just coming to the door. I looked up at her and smiled. Fuck this telephone shit. Our times together were becoming too precious. I never knew what she was going to come up with, but I think I liked the `nothing' days the best. We often just sat quietly holding each other, not talking, not petting, just being. Doin' nothin'. "I'll be there at 2:30." Sally heard me and smiled at the timing. "Now, Sampson." I suppose I should have told him I didn't like to be ordered around, especially by someone in his position. It tended to make me angry. I was already well on my way to pissed off. "2:30, asshole!" I told him, again. He changed his tone, and I finally recognized that what I was hearing wasn't arrogance, but fear. Out of control fear. "Look. It's not me, sir. But the directors are going to be really pissed if they have to wait that long." Now my curiosity was piqued. "Directors? As in plural?" "Yeah, butt face. Ours, the FBI's, the CIA's, and another guy that has those three spooked out of their shorts. Believe me, they don't want to sit in there and drink coffee with that guy for an hour and a half." "No shit?" "No shit! Now get a move on!" "OK. I'll leave as soon as I can get away." We both knew I had no intention of leaving any sooner than I had said before. Let the bastards be a bit uncomfortable. It still beat a long night living with the rats... "Now, you motherfucker...." I heard as I hung up the phone. I smiled up at Sally and went to her with my arms open. I had a bad feeling I was going to need all the love and support I could get my hands on. Sally must have sensed my need for her comfort and love. It was a `nothing' day. I think she wondered why I cried when 2:00 came. I got to the anonymous building downtown at 2:20. I waited outside the door, in clear view of the security cameras for 15 minutes. It was too much hassle for them to come out and get me, then have to get cycled back in. Sometimes things work in your favor. By the time I got through security it was 2:45. I walked into the conference room and sat down. Four government suits stared back at me. Well, three, anyway. The fourth one was too expensive to be government issue, which meant only the government could have afforded it. One of the men I knew better than the others because I had worked for him, prior. I knew two of the others as they were in the news occasionally, political appointments and congressional hearings. The fourth man looked familiar, as if I had seen him somewhere. It was more like I had sensed his presence somewhere, like a dullness or deadness on the fringes of my consciousness. Or like a disease. I decided didn't like him. When I looked at him, I had a foreboding sense I was looking at myself in 10 years time. It scared the shit out of me. Not that I would be alive in 10 years, but what I would become. FBI started in. "Where the Hell did you get this evidence?" The briefcase and its contents were on the table. I told them the story, starting with Sally's involvement with Gary. I told them about finding Nicole and taking her and Simone into my home and into my protection. Since they had my report on Gary's demise and my part in it, I left that out. I related that Simone had had difficulties adjusting to the new situation and run away. I said I had traced her - I didn't say how - to the warehouse and rescued her. "But that was months ago, Sampson! Do you realize how much time you've wasted?" I didn't want them to know how frightened I had been of dealing with that briefcase. I had successfully forgotten about that particular ugliness until we moved and it showed up. Like a bad penny. But this FBI guy was a real asshole. And he was scared, too. "Well, I figured you were still sifting the evidence you got from that child molester's house you had under observation for all those years," I shot back. The FBI had taken public credit for putting away Gary, when it had been handed to them on a silver platter. That kind of positive PR meant billions of dollars in increased funding. "Fuck you!" I didn't answer. "Why did you wait so long, son?" CIA was more intelligent, smoother. Still an asshole. "It wasn't part of my mission." "I don't understand. Was this an official mission?" he asked, turning to my old director. He shook his head, then looked at me. "If I may?" he asked. I nodded. "Mr. Sampson's mission, as he had been trained to defined it, was to recover the young girl. Our agents are trained to be focused, mission specific. I'm surprised he brought out the case at all, to be truthful. It shows a break in his training." He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. That look had ended more than one career, and they had been damned good agents. "It wasn't entirely voluntary, Sir, as I recall. I remember I couldn't find the door, I remember my head kept turning to face the corner this case was hidden in. The girl later told me she was tugging my ear, turning me so I would find it. This was her find, not mine." "That would be Miss Le Brech, the young girl, right? Dr. Schwartz has said some very nice things about her." "Yes. Simone. She is my stepdaughter now. She wasn't at that time." "Very nice for you, I'm sure. Can we get back to the fucking point?" Mr. FBI again. "You're telling me that you didn't have any idea what was in the case? I find that hard to believe!" I shrugged. Fuck him. But something wasn't right. Suddenly, the stench of panic in the room made sense. "God damn it! You bastards didn't have a clue. Even after I handed you that guy's house and all those tapes, all the pictures and the dead fucking bodies. I'm right, aren't I? You're all sitting here chewing on my ass because I'm the only one who has any god damn fucking clue what's going on. Oh, God help us!" I looked at them accusingly, demanding a response. Finally the scary one nodded. "What the press, what no one outside of a very, very small circle knows is that the funerals that were televised were almost all staged. No one had missed those 34 girls. No one had ever reported them gone. No one." "What about..." I stopped myself. I had taken the tapes and photos of Miki. But she was only one. "What you uncovered has shaken the foundations of the law enforcement community to its very core. That such a massive and hideous crime could have been committed in the very heart of one of the safest major communities in the country and never been noticed, is... is..." Spooky couldn't finish. "Sampson, you're being reactivated." My old director, quietly. "Fuck you." I wasn't about to let this get dumped on my lap. "This isn't a request." "You can't... You wouldn't..." I saw the set of his face. "Oh, shit! As what?" "As a Free Agent." "This isn't fucking baseball. What the Hell is a `free' agent." Spooky took over. "Well, we're not really sure, exactly. Currently, you're the only one there is. You'll have just this case. That's it. Take what you need, from anybody here. You will have our full, unquestioning support. Do what you need to do. Just wrap it up. Quietly. Quickly. And let us know when you're done." Spooky shrugged. He couldn't say anymore. I didn't think they would want any written reports. I also knew without them saying, that there would be complete deniability if anything went wrong. Hell, what was I thinking, `if'.... I stared at Spooky for a long minute. Then I looked at them all, one by one. To their credit, each one looked me in the eye. They knew they had just made me the judge, jury and executioner of tens, maybe hundreds of men and women. 007 in spades. A license to kill. "I've been known to make a bit of a mess," I stated. Understated, actually. I think I almost got a smile out of my old director, but I wasn't trying to make a joke. "There won't be any problems. Just not too many civilians, if it can be helped." That was Mr. Tact from the FBI again. I think he was actually trying to make me feel better. I stood, towering over him. "I have NEVER involved civilians, you mother fucker. I don't burn children in farmhouses or communes and I don't break down fucking doors of unarmed civilian's homes and steal little children at gunpoint. And if you say one more fucking word, YOU will be the first casualty in this war you are asking me to wage. Quietly and quickly. Do you fucking understand me, you incompetent asshole?" I was a little miffed. After several minutes of silence I packed up the evidence in the briefcase and started out the door. The meeting was over. All except the... "Mr. Sampson, a moment, please?" I was surprised. It wasn't my old director. We waited while the other three men left. I turned to face the spook. He apparently was my new boss. He looked at me for a minute, measuring me. "This is hard for you, isn't it." It wasn't a question. He said it softly. He knew from experience. "I look at it the other way. It's too easy." He was silent, agreeing with me. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. No publicity, no bodies, no noise. That's the main reason we chose you. You don't burn kids or break down doors. You don't like it. But you'll do the job, and do it right. "You have to understand. There are too many cities in this country where the police departments are hanging on to their credibility and their respectability by their fingernails. A crime of this magnitude, at this point in time, making them look totally incompetent, unable to protect the populace, would be the last straw for too many of the marginal departments. And honestly, we're not sure that some of them haven't been compromised, and are involved in this in some way. But we don't know. We just fucking don't know. "I don't have to tell you that if word of this got out, neither the states nor the Feds would be able to contain the rapid spread of violence and anarchy. Needless to say, don't expect any help from the locals." "What help can I expect?" "You will have complete and total access to every piece of information I get. I get it all." This guy was beginning to scare even me. No one had that kind of access. "How do I contact you?" "Your contact will be the Analyst you have used up until now. We thought it would be easier that way. Besides, as a result of reading your report and doing his own analysis, his security clearance is now as high as it gets. He, or someone like him, will be on the other end of your phone 24/7." He paused. "That was a good piece of analysis, by the way." I somehow knew that was high praise coming from him. "Other support?" "Clean up will be on demand. Just tell him where. Then get out. You are never to come back here again. He has your equipment, computer, phone, all the usual toys. Anything else you need, just ask him." I nodded my head. "No other questions, Mr. Sampson?" "Not that I can think of." "You don't want to know who I am?" I looked at him for a moment. "Not really. I don't think so, no." He smiled sadly. "I know what you mean." He thought a moment. "What tipped you off? What made you make the link with that particular group?" The memory of the dark basement under Gary's house flooded over me again. I had known then, I just hadn't pieced it together yet. "The graves. I'd seen them before. Over there." He nodded. There was no substitute for fieldwork. We left the room together. The Analyst waylaid me before I could say anything else to him and he slipped out, a shadow. "Holy Shit, man! You hit the fucking jackpot! Do you know how high my clearance is now? Would you like to read the President's e-mail? Launch a missile? Damn, this is so scary, it's cool!" He was having so much fun with his new toys I decided not to slug him. That `fucking jackpot' had cost countless lives. I was going to have the unpleasant task of trying to account for them, somehow. I listened carefully while he rhapsodized over the features of the new hardware that was already installed in his now ultra secure office. Looking around, even I was impressed. I'll say one thing, this spook guy didn't mess around. Chapter 66 I was busy in the cellar of the new house going through those old photos Gary had taken of Sally. I had stored them down there in one of the many empty spaces onf the cavernous cellar. This time, though, as I went through them I wasn't looking at Sally. I was looking at the faces of the men and women who had been with her. They hadn't been important to me before, but now, if I was right, they were part of a group of professionals who had stuck together, all there at the beginning. I believed that at least the core group of them had known or known of each other in their former lives in espionage and they would tend to stick together now. These people would have been the `true believers,' the fanatics who wouldn't care how they hurt America, as long as they hurt her. Their politicians had long ago realized the error of their system and moved on. The tool they created with those fucking policies, these trained agents, remained to fight blindly on. It was all they knew, and all they believed in, now that their own system had collapsed. I was down in the files because there was this niggling suspicion that I had seen one of the men before. It wasn't a strong feeling, but it drove me into the basement to these archives. It still sickened me to look at the way Sally had been used. I figured, with the time lag and all, that Sally had been one of the early experiments for this group of kidnappers and murderers. That was why Gary took his time with her, seducing her into bondage slowly over a period of months. They were feeling their way, how much they could get away with, how far they could push her. They may not have even had the conscious thought of doing anything organized as yet. That would explain them allowing the photographs of themselves. My theory was that the photos of themselves had been a careless mistake, which meant they probably hadn't started routinely killing the women and girls yet. This was just a lark, humiliating the rich American women, abusing them and making them beg for it. The killing would come later. You don't take incriminating pictures of yourself having bondage sex with someone who you intended to murder or snuff. The photos they took were also thorough. I could attach a face to every body or part of a body in the photos. Even the photographer took a self-portrait in the mirror. I was surprised. It was a woman. I spent a long time looking at that hard-edged face. I suppose you could have called her pretty once, but I was repulsed by the hollowness of her eyes. Unless I missed my guess, she was the brains behind this. A heartless bitch. I studied her carefully. I wanted to make sure I would know her if I ever saw her. It was probably the photos that started it. They discovered how easily they could sell them and make money. From there they just took the path of least resistance, filling the sordid demands for more and more graphic and violent pictures. I hoped it was an accident, the one death that started it all. With this group, though, I didn't think so. It had gotten to that point too quickly. I was working intently on the files, so I didn't hear Janey and Simone come into the room next door. Sally and Nicole had discovered the access to the dungeon from our bedroom. They had taken the next step and had converted an even larger part of the basement into a `dungeon' that could hold all of our equipment. They didn't want everyone traipsing through our bedroom to get here, so they provided access to the dungeon from the other parts of the basement as well. With two to four `slaves' to deal with at any one time, we needed multiples of most of the specialty devices and, even with the huge space they had created, it felt crowded at times. Most of the bigger pieces were on rollers and were stored in another part of the room. The girls had rolled a couple of pieces into the dungeon and were setting up for a session before I heard them talking. "Gosh, Simmie, it's great that you agreed to help me. I really need the practice," Janey said. That was the first I heard them speaking. "Uh, yeah, OK. Just remember you agreed to, uh, you know..." Janey giggled. "Yeah, I remember. Where did you get that huge thing anyway?" I moved to stand in the doorway between the two rooms. Janey was facing me and grinned as she saw me. Simone had her back turned to me and wouldn't have seen me anyway. Janey had just finished putting a blindfold over her eyes. Simone was fidgeting, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Not wanting to spy on their session, I reached out to Simone with my link, and asked her if it was alright for me to stay and watch. I saw her relax and could feel her approval, even without her sending back a positive `Yes' over the link. She also asked me not to let Janey know that she knew I was there. This could be interesting. Simone answered Janey's question. "It's one of Aunt Marion's toys. She has me use it on her sometimes." "You sure it will fit? It's awfully big" "It will fit." "Are you sure? How can you know? I'd think it would tear you in two!" "It's the same size as JT's, if you must know." "God! Really? Oh! So, that means you two are, are, doing it?" Simone actually blushed. "Yeah. For a while now. But he's been at that advanced placement summer school at the university for a couple of weeks and, well, I miss him and his, umm, thing. I almost suspect that Papa arranged for him to `win' that scholarship." Damn, that kid was smart. I had used two dummy corporations to set up that scholarship for JT. And she still figured it out. "You think Dad's trying to keep you two apart?" "Oh, no! I know Papa likes him. Very much so. Remember, I was supposed to go to that course, too, before JT even knew about the award. Then I couldn't go because of the stuff with Gertie. It`s a great opportunity for JT even if I have to go without being fucked by him for a while." "My, my, JT seems to have progressed a lot in that department." As Janey and Simone talked, Janey had been preparing Simone. After slipping off her robe, leaving her nude and blindfolded, she had tied her wrists and ankles to a large upright stand. Simone was secured in an `X' shape with all of her considerable charms exposed. Janey had made sure I had a total view of all of Simone's lovely features. Like I said, they were considerable. "Yes, he has done quite well for a virgin. I will have to ask Papa for another case of condoms soon." "Another case? Geez, you're only supposed to use one at a time, Simmie. Besides, you're on the pill aren't you?" "I know to use just one. Don't be silly. JT is so concerned about me not getting pregnant that he insists on using one. He is so cute that way, taking the responsibility for protection that I haven't had the heart to tell him I am on the pill. Besides, he is so anxious to please me, he does it five or six times." "A day?" "In a row! It is wonderful, Janey. I had no idea. But surely, you and Papa have done it that often, no? He is so virile and strong." Simone knew Janey and I had never had sex, so I wondered what was going on. Uncharacteristically, Janey didn't pick up on her teasing. Janey got very still for a minute, then, looking directly up at me, answered Simone in a very serious tone. "Dad and I have never done it, Simmie." She hurried to explain. "I know, I know. We tease each other a lot, and he could if he wanted to. At least, I think he could. I'm not so sure now. "I know Mom told you and Nicki about our agreement that he could, well, have sex with me. But he never has. For a while I thought he didn't like me, or that he was afraid that Mom would get mad or something. But I realized later that the purpose of the whole agreement was for me to get over what that boy did to me, and for me to want to have sex and to like it. "Dad is really smart. He teased me into liking myself again. God, he was awful. He made me play with myself in front of him and Mom once. It was so embarrassing, but I could tell he was turned on watching me and that made me feel, well, special, kind of. In a weird sort of way. He treated me just the same as Mom, most of the times when we did family things or bondage stuff, only he didn't make love to me. He has licked me and touched me all over and he drove me up the wall with those crazy toys from the Rosen Clinic. "If his objective was to make me want to have sex, he succeeded." Janey smiled over at me when she said this. "In fact, more than he knows. But, well, to answer your question, so far I can only imagine what it will be like to be with a man. Some day and with the right man. But I'm happy for you and JT." She stopped her seriousness, in part because Simone was grinning. "So, how did you get JT to finally do it? He was so shy and all." I guess she was going to try and turn the tables on her. Now it was Simone's turn to be silent for a moment. "I think Papa had a lot to do with that, too. As much as I tried, I couldn't get JT to look at me hardly. I knew he liked me, he kept coming over and was always hanging around me. But he would get all embarrassed and flustered then run away somewhere. Then he came up to the house and talked to Papa one afternoon while I was gone. You remember they told us about the basketball game with Mama and Sally?" "Yeah, that was funny. I think your Mom kind of liked teaching him." "I was kind of upset with Mama for that. JT said he thought she was going to rape him or something, then realized she was just playing. But she did get him started, so I guess I forgive her. The first time he grabbed my boobies in a basketball game I think I had an orgasm. I couldn't do anything but stand there and quiver. He was so worried he had hurt me or done something wrong. He had tried to be so smooth. "I let him help me over to the side of the court. Oh, Janey, I was shameless. I leaned into him, then held on to him, rubbing my chest all over his. He could have had me then and there, I was so horny. I could feel his hardness against my tummy and it made me all tingly. I moved my leg between his and pressed it up against his cock. Then I moved it back and forth. "He groaned and then pulled away, ashamed because he had spurt his stuff in his pants. I wouldn't let him go. I was so amazed when he didn't get soft." "So what happened? How did you get him to screw you?" "It took much planning on my part. It was fun, too. I didn't let Mama near him again, because I wanted to teach him. I wanted to learn, too. Don't misunderstand, Mama didn't mean to interfere, I just wanted to do it myself." "And....?" Janey said, impatiently. "Well, we played a lot of basketball. He got better at touching me. He got very good, in fact. He seemed to like my butt. I don't know why. Anyway, I spent a lot of time backing into him with it, feeling his hard cock pressing up between us. Then there was the kissing, and he could hold both my ass cheeks in his big hands. I thought he would rub them raw some days. "Then one day I let my hand touch his cock. It was so cute. He froze stiff, with his tongue in my mouth and his hands on my butt. He gave a little groan and then tried to suck my tonsils out. God, it was exciting. I wanted to taste it, him, so I slipped my finger into his shorts and found the gooey wet stuff. When I put my finger in my mouth, he ran away. I was afraid I had done something to offend him. He said later that he had been so upset because he wanted to put his cock where my finger was. I asked him if he still wanted to. He cried when I licked him. I like how he tasted. He even kissed me after. I was surprised, but very pleased. "Next, I let him take off my shirt. He liked it when I wore a bra, so he could take that off, too. Tittie fucking was the next step. He got so excited when he would come in my mouth that way that he would squeeze my boobies really hard. They would be sore for days. It was wonderful. I could just roll over in bed and remember his big hands on them. "Once, when he saw the marks he had made with his fingers, he was so sorry. He kissed them to make them feel better. Boy, did that work! With only a little encouragement from me, he was soon finding his way down to my slit. That took a lot of practice, to get him to do it right. I even shaved off the hairs to tease him. It drove him wild when he saw me bare like a little girl. Papa is right, it is better that way, with the woman shaved. "Anyway, from there we went to the sixty-nine position. JT could eat me for hours, and stay hard the whole time. It was amazing, but I still wanted him to fuck me. He wouldn't until he had protection. He couldn't ask his Mom, so I asked Papa. We've been doing it ever since, almost everyday, and it is wonderful. He is a good lover. But I don't want to marry him." I think she said that last part for my benefit. She had just described the total debauchery of a young innocent lad, then basically said it was a science project. I wondered how JT felt about her. Janie must have been thinking along the same lines. "How does JT feel about you?" "We have discussed this. He likes the sex, but knows this is not love. We are very good friends, sex is something we both like. But he is not the man for me. And I am not the woman for him. I am too strong, and he is strong, too, like Papa. He needs someone like Mama. I will talk to Papa. Maybe he will let JT come to stay with us for a while, to learn from him. And his Mom, too. She's hot! Do you think Papa would like JT's Mom?" "God, Simmie, don't you think he's got enough with our two Moms? And, yeah, she is hot. I saw her when she came to pick JT up once and she was just wearing shorts and a t-shirt. I hadn't realized how built she was. Good luck talking Mom and Nicole into sharing him with another woman. But I think you're right. JT could learn from Dad. Maybe it would get Dad out of his mood. Have you noticed how serious he has been lately?" She was still looking at me while she worked on Simone. I hadn't meant to let this secret agent stuff affect them at home, but it obviously had. I know it affected me. Killing people, even bad people who deserve it, is nasty business. I don't know about other people, but I died a little with each one. And looking at the pictures, I was looking at a task that would mean a lot more killing. I was astounded at the number of different partners who had had Sally during her time with Gary. Some of them may have been clients. But most of the men, and women had had that hard-edged look I knew so well. Jaded, aloof, as if they were dead inside emotionally. There were close to 50 different faces, and those were only the ones in the pictures. How many others were there who hadn't been with Sally during the startup? Simone got really quiet. She was uneasy about the question and Janey knew she knew something. "Come on, Simmie. What do you know?" "I- I- can't say. Just that Papa is working again." She paused, "I don't think he likes what he is going to do." "Huh? What do you mean? He has always worked. For that financial thingy. Building shopping centers like The Guild and stuff. And if he doesn't like it, why does he do it?" "It's called a Real Estate Venture Capital Investment Corporation, not a `thingy.' Geez, Janey. Anyway, he's not doing that anymore right now. He's working for the government again, with Gertie. And I, well, I can't say anymore." "Come on, Sim. Give. Pleeeeese," Janey begged. But no matter how much she wheedled, and she was good, Simone wouldn't say anymore. "Tell me what you and Bala have been doing, Janey. You have been over there a lot, lately." Simone was trying to change the subject. I thought that was a good idea. "I don't know that I should, since you're keeping secrets from me," she giggled. "But what the heck. I guess I can be the bigger person." "You are the bigger person - OUCH!" Simone yelped as Janey smacked her on the bare bottom with her hand for her smart remark. "OK, OK, I'm sorry!" They laughed together, their differences put aside. While they had been talking, Janey had been working on Simone, wrapping what looked to be fishing line all over her body, from her head to toes. The line wasn't too tight so as to cut off circulation, but it still looked like Simone was wearing a quilted skin made of small patches of triangles and squares. Janey told Simone what she had been learning from Bala. "I like to help Bala prepare for her special times with Amud. They are so in love. I was brushing her hair one night and watched as she carefully took each hair from her brush and put it in a special drawer. There wasn't very much in there. I asked her what it was for, keeping her hair like that. I thought it was religious or something. "Bala told me that the hair was every woman's dream. She seemed quite surprised I didn't know about it, then realized again that I hadn't grown up in her culture. She seemed shy about telling me, but finally did. "The hair is saved for a special occasion. So special that most women never get to have one. While this is not reserved for the royalty, it is an event called the `Queen's Tears.' When the drawer is full of the woman's hair, a servant comes in and weaves the hair into long thin strands. Then, on that special night, the strands of hair are wrapped around the woman kind of like I have done to you with Dad's fishing line." Janey glanced over at me and shrugged in a belated apology. I wondered where she had gotten the fishing line. I didn't think she even knew what a sporting goods store was. "Then," as she finished an intricate weave on Simone's breasts that kept me staring and aroused, "another woman, one with a special title, uses a light whip and teases the bound woman to unimaginable heights of ecstasy, according to Bala." Janey sounded disbelieving and wistful at the same time. Janey picked up a light crop and swished it a couple of times. "I need the practice. I have used the whip on Bala a couple of times and, although she says she enjoyed it, I could tell I didn't please her. It wasn't quite right. I just can't seem to sense what or where the next step is." She stepped up to the spread- eagled girl. "I hope you can help me, Simone. I want to give Bala a special gift for her birthday next week." "As long as I get fucked," Simone replied. Her crude language told me that she was already being affected by the entire process. Her level of arousal was high and climbing. I stopped short suddenly as I recognized a familiar pattern. Only he had used chicken wire and it was so tight I was afraid the patches of raised skin on my arms would burst. It was in one of those middle African countries, one of those `Dictator of the Month' countries. The government had switched in the middle of an operation and so had the guy I was working with. All of a sudden this bastard pulls out a cannon and points it at my head. We had been having lunch and discussing the next phase of the operation. Apparently, the coupe had taken place at 12:30. So, one minute we were having chicken salad, the next I was in the chicken coop, with my arms fastened to the arms of a chair with chicken wire. I don't know what he was trying to prove, other than to look good for his new bosses and proving to them he was really on their side, but to be honest I didn't care and didn't want to stick around to find out what his particular reasons were. All I cared about what that he had forgotten to tie my feet. He died. But the experience of that never left me. I had just never found a good excuse to use it on anyone else. What I knew was that each of those puffy patches of skin on Simone was now in a highly sensitive state. What I had experienced was extreme pain, the constrictions pulled so tightly that it nearly cut off all blood flow. Tied less tightly, as the fishing line was, the blood was allowed to flow into each patch, but less able to flow out. This accentuated the puffiness of the patches and was particularly notable on the soft tissues of her breasts. Simone's nipples were rock hard and very large. I knew immediately that Janey faced two problems by practicing on Simone. One was Simone herself. I knew Simone was stronger on the link than Janey. Almost as strong as myself, in many ways. I sensed that Simone was actually guiding Janey with her own link, having her use the crop on her for her own immediate gratification. I didn't think that was the purpose of this particular exercise. But what finally helped me decide to step in was Simone's attitude. It wasn't that she was making fun of Janey or anything, it's that she wasn't being submissive to her. For someone tied up and blindfolded, she was quite demanding. The other problem that Janey faced was with herself. She just couldn't see the `lights' that she needed to see so she could do it correctly. I could see them. God, Simone was practically glowing. I could tell Simone was directing her to push enough of the lights together so she could cum. I had discovered that by stirring up the lights, keeping them moving and apart was extremely arousing for the woman. Whipping too hard extinguished a light. The object was to keep things stirred up. Janey was having a hard time of it. I stepped up behind her quietly and focused on her link. That was when I sensed Simone was really playing with her. I stopped that by putting a shield around Janey. Simone knew I had blocked her and suddenly she wasn't so demanding. I think she was a little scared, too. Good. I `asked' Janey over the link if I could help her and she indicated I could. I hadn't tried this before or anything like it, but I let myself slip into Janey. I wanted to `see' through her eyes and maybe show her what to look for. I was totally unprepared for the cacophony I sexuality I encountered in her mind. It was no wonder she couldn't focus with all this arousal. Everything she touched, felt, saw, tasted or smelled was associated in some way with sex. Or with her sexual nature. Sally had understated it when she said that she and Janey were sexual beings. I couldn't imagine being so constantly bombarded. It was amazing she could get anything done other that masturbation. I felt her recoil in fear. I thought I had gone too far, but she assured me she was alright. What I had not realized was that I would not be the only one experiencing this sharing. She was amazed at the silence of my mind, where I was. Everything she looked for was there, it was just deadened, or repressed. That was her word for it. I preferred to think of it as keeping things under control. I opened her eyes to the lights dancing around Simone. At first she didn't understand what they were for, as they were always there. She had seen them before, but then, she had always seen them. Sort of. Like air, I guess. It's always there and you just take if for granted. So even though she saw them, she never really saw them. Now she did. I showed her how to move them around. I showed her how to keep them all together, but not touching. The lights seemed to grow, to feed on each other. Janey learned quickly, and soon I was able to pull back out of her mind. I watched her deftly and surely put Simone in a state of mind that had her babbling incoherent sounds and grunts. The Queen's Tears required that the woman be one stoke shy of unconsciousness and without orgasm. Then the King would enter the room and enter the Queen. The legend had it that the effect on the Queen would last for years, leaving her a submissive and willing wife for the King. Given that many of the Queens had been surgically altered to prevent their arousal, this long lasting effect was commonly attributed to be a myth. After watching Simone, I wasn't sure. I left before Janey used the strap-on artificial JT on her. Chapter 67 I wandered upstairs, leaving the two teens in the dungeon. I needed to find Sally or Nicole or both. Watching the two girls had been extremely arousing and I needed relief. I was attacked in the kitchen. Both women had been experiencing Simone's arousal with her through their links. Both were very aroused and very frustrated. Simone had still not cum and thus these two were in almost as aroused a state as the poor girl in the dungeon. It was brutal but satisfying for all of us. I took Sally first, nailing her against the kitchen wall. Nicole was pressed up tight behind me, touching both of us, urging both of us to finish together. And quickly. I let Sally almost get to her climax, then I pulled out of her. Her cry of anguish almost made me rethink and let her finish, but her co-wife deserved a little of this, too. I took Nicole bent over the kitchen table. Again, I wasn't gentle and she didn't complain. Sweat was pouring off of both of us by this time, adding to the slippery sliding of our bodies. Nicole would grunt each time I pounded into her. I briefly wondered where Sally was, and saw her collapsed in a puddle on the floor. She looked as if she had just slid down the wall when I wasn't supporting her on my prick anymore. Her eyes were open and she watched in amazement as I pounded into Nicole. Just as Nicole's grunts began to turn into a continuous howl of cumming, I pulled out of her. It was a different kind of howl now, and as a very base level, it pleased me. I took them both to our bedroom and tied them side by side on the bed, their hands over their heads, their legs spread. I then proceeded to fuck first one, then the other, always to the point of climax, but not beyond. Somehow I knew that neither of them should finish before Simone did. They knew, too, deep down, but that didn't make it any easier for them. When Janey finally let Simone climax, I thought the house would come down. I was between fucks, letting one of them cool down to the point where I could fuck into her again when both of them went rigid. I quickly released them and they sandwiched me between them as they came, holding me and each other tightly. I thought it would be over in a while, but it wasn't. Simone kept cumming and cumming in the dungeon, pushing Janey, Nicole and Sally over as well. Janey had discovered the beneficial effect of being on the other end of the strap-on, and was fucking the living shit out of Simone, as Simone described it later. In hushed and reverent tones. As the tsunami subsided and the aftershocks faded away, Sally looked at me and said simply, "We want that, too." I felt Nicole's head nodding her eager assent on my shoulder. I was unsure if Janey would do Sally, but I felt sure I could convince her to do Nicole. If Simone watched, and Janey helped, I figured that I could have Simone do Sally. Simone and Janey slipped upstairs to their bedroom a little time later, with Janey supporting and almost carrying the drained teenager. However, Simone couldn't have been all that tired as we soon felt Janey thrashing over the link as Simone repeatedly expressed her appreciation for giving her the experience of the Queen's Tears. With all that noise coming over the link, Sally and Nicole decided it would be a good idea just to stay in bed for the rest of the day. I didn't object. We had played so hard the day before and most of the night that I was surprised to wake up alone the next morning. My two minxes had been so aggressive sexually that I had to finally restrain them with the ropes before we could get some sleep. They had released themselves sometime before I woke up and were now nowhere to be found. I found the four of them in the kitchen. After the events of the day before, I didn't expect to see such long faces. Simone was nervous, but was still subservient to Janey. She was kneeling by her chair and would continually look up to see if there was anything she needed or wanted. Nicole was scared. Whatever it was, she was frightened. Sally was shaken as well, but had a better grip on her emotions. Janey was the only one who was calm and quiet. But something was wrong. I looked at Janey and suddenly, I knew. "Janey,..." I began. "We're FAMILY, Dad. You shouldn't make decisions like that without talking to us about it." Wait a minute! How did this get to be my fault? "Janey, you shouldn't have told them. I didn't exactly `tell' you, did I?" "That doesn't make any difference. What were you going to do? Give us all a kiss good-bye and go off and get yourself killed?" This was worse than I thought. "I am going to try very hard not to get killed. Shit, Janey, how much did you tell them?" "Almost everything, Papa," chimed in Simone. Three sets of eyes wheeled on the girl. "What! There's more?" cried Nicole. "She didn't tell them why you're going to do this," Simone said quietly, her head down. I saw a tear escape from the corner of her eye and slip sadly down her cheek. My heart ached for her, accepting the blame for my actions. But she was wrong. Yes, I was doing if for her. And Miki. And Sally and Janey and Nicole. And the 33 other lost souls that were buried in Gary's basement along with Miki. And the countless others who had not yet been discovered. And so on. And so on. We were all crying when I was done. Janey hadn't realized my doing this was not up for debate or discussion. I think she was sufficiently chastised by the time we were done. I had not tried to hide this from them. I was trying to protect them, and they all understood a little of the weight I had been shouldering for the past several weeks. I think what made Janey realize her mistake was when Sally quietly asked her if she felt better knowing or if she had felt better yesterday, before she had known. Sally's question implied that, whether or not she knew what was going on, I was going to do it. It was a lesson in growing up she needed to learn. Sometimes it isn't good to know everything. Just trust the one you love to do the right thing. Then Sally got down to business and took charge. I was charged with getting Nicole and Simone proficient in handguns, as I had done with the two of them after the gun accident earlier. I thought Nicole was going to protest, but went along with the training. She was a pretty good shot and preferred the heavier pieces. When I commented she might be more comfortable with a lighter gun, she retorted that if she had to use it, she didn't want to be comfortable. She wanted the bastard to be dead. Simone shied away from the guns. Sure, she went through the training and was a decent shot, but her heart wasn't in it. The she saw a rifle I had down in the basement firing range. It was an old 30.06 with a hell of kick. Simone fell in love with the idea of not letting the bastards get close. I set her up with a smaller 9mm rifle with a long barrel and scoped it with one of the specialty scopes from the agency. It used an infra-red laser that was invisible to the naked eye but that could be seen though the scope. It worked in any light, and, in case the batteries went dead, it was also a decent scope by itself. Simone was a dead shot with her rifle. There wasn't a spot on the grounds she couldn't hit from at least one window in the house. Gertie got her a silencer from somewhere when she found out from Simone what was going on. I thought it a strange gift for a young girl and told her so. I was politely told to mind my own business. Sally had a discrete early warning system installed on the grounds. I didn't even want to know where she got the high tech and classified stuff that was being installed at an alarming rate in and around the house. I do know it made me feel better that they felt better about doing something. Somewhere in all of this chaos, Janey, Simone and Nicole disappeared into the dungeon for Janey to practice the Queen's Tears one more time. I had anticipated that Janey would use a strap-on as she had with Simone, so I was a bit unprepared when the two teens carried a nearly catatonic Nicole up to my office and deposited her on the desk. Then they turned and left, to take care of their own selfish needs, no doubt. I could see from the swirling of the lights that Nicole was about to explode. Janey had learned well. In fact, I had never seen Nicole in this state before. In truth, I had never seen any woman in this state. The lights just swirled and swirled around. There was a little ebb and flow, but I knew that they wouldn't diminish. If nothing was done, Nicole would slowly, but surely, go crazy. Her mind was totally focused on her satisfaction and would remain there. If satisfaction was withheld, she would go nuts, to use a highly technical term. I stood looking at the quivering woman silently. Sally slipped in quietly dressed in her coat and carrying her purse. "I'm taking the girls away for the weekend, Larry," was all she said. I nodded agreement, not realizing until later that it was only Tuesday. Believe me, we needed the time. Nicole needed a lot of satisfaction. Something happened in our relationship after that. Nicole had been submissive before, and was, as far as I could tell, in love with me. As I was in love with her. But now, after that experience, she became devoted to me. It is a subtle difference, I know, but she was now absolutely unquestioning when I asked her for something or to do something. There was an anxious willingness to her that hadn't been there before. Nicole and Simone took Sally down shortly after they returned, the same night Janey went over to Amud and Bala's. Again, they left me to deal with a highly charged woman. The two of them went back to their apartment for the week, cleaning it out for sale. Nicole didn't need or want to keep it anymore. Sally turned out to be needier than Nicole had been. And more demanding. I sort of liked the sexual aggression she began to exhibit. Not that she was dominating, just very demanding. We spent most of our long weekend in the dungeon using some of the equipment I had shied away from. Nothing was too severe for her, it seemed. The tighter the bondage, the stiffer the whip, the tighter the clamps the more she begged for more. And more. Sally was a mass of bruises and welts by the time the other three returned. I had used the most judicious use of force I could, but Sally had craved no limits. Nothing was broken, but I was seriously shaken by her tolerance of what I had done to her. I was dreading the reunion as my brutality would be evident to them. Nicole embraced Sally tightly in the doorway, causing I can only imagine how much pain to the injured Sally. They clung to each other silently, then Nicole came over to me and knelt at my feet. Sally quietly joined her, the two of them holding each other's hands as they knelt there. No words were spoken, but they were telling me by their actions that there were no recriminations. They were mine, totally. Absolutely. No questions. It was scary. What was even scarier was Amud and Bala's next visit. It was obvious they were shaken by the experience Janey had given Bala, but I had not realized how much I had given Janey when I `helped' her out. Bala stayed on her knees, her head to the floor the entire visit. While she had a very nice ass that I had always enjoyed looking at, I did miss her face. OK, just a little. But it was unusual for her to be so quiet. She never left Amud's side, leaving him to do all the explaining. "Janey has been given a very special gift," he began. "She told us how you `opened her eyes' to the lights, but even then, she would have had to have the ability within her to begin with. We do not wish to diminish your part of this great gift, but my loving Bala is insistent on bestowing the title of `Yama' on the young girl." He looked questioningly down at his bowing wife. "Never before has one so young received this title. These women, most treasured and so few, have always been older, much older by decades. So it has been since the beginnings of our people. But there can be no question. Yama Janey has the gift of the Queen's Tears." He looked at me seriously. "You must realize what this means to my people. There has not been a Yama in generations. Women have collected their hair for centuries, lately in the faint hope a Yama would appear. There will be great rejoicing in my country, and the neighboring kingdoms." "Do you expect Janey to go over there?" I asked him. "It is beyond hope that such a thing would happen. My beloved and myself cannot ourselves return to our own country, so how will Janey go? But it will bring hope to women who have never given up hoping. A Yama exists. That is all they need to know. Most of them could never afford the ceremony anyway. But now, it is possible." "The ceremony is expensive?" I asked stupidly. Amud looked at me like a slow child, then down at Bala. "Yama Janey has given me a gift more precious than my life. What price could I refuse her? Whatever I have is hers." Thinking on my own experience with Sally and Nicole, I had to admit, he had a point. Janey and Simone entered the family room at that point. It was the only time Bala moved from her devoted position beside Amud all night. Bala embraced the surprised Janey fiercely, putting more emotion into that one hug than Janey was prepared for. Then, as Amud explained again the honor being bestowed on her, Bala presented her with an amulet that was to be worn in typical mideastern fashion with the stone at the center of her forehead. Janey was about to refuse the gift until Amud explained that the amulet was not a gift. It was the symbol of a Yama. There were only three known to exist. This particular one had belonged to Bala's family, a great- great-great-grandaunt or something. The stones were expected to be passed along regardless of family lineage whenever a woman with the gift was discovered. Nothing, not war, not politics, not boundaries, was to stop the presenting of the amulet. With a maturity far beyond her years, Janey graciously accepted the adornment. Solemnly she fit it over her head. The stone nestled softly between her eyes on her forehead. I know it sounds weird, but standing there wearing that stone like a crown, she looked like a queen. I had the sudden vision of my Janey standing in some far away land, not coming home every night and it felt like a vise had my heart in its grasp. I had to blink several times as my eyes kept watering for some reason. Allergies, I guess. Chapter 67 The next week another local girl went missing. Again, it was quiet and if they hadn't been looking for it, she would have gone completely unnoticed. As it was, this poor girl was only missed because she had made a regular volunteer Saturday at the animal shelter. Once a month, like clockwork. When she didn't show up, someone asked a question, then a report was filed. And forgotten. Almost. An hour later, I was standing in Gertie's office. As I looked around, I noticed there had been some subtle and some not so subtle changes lately. There was a new picture on her desk of a large young woman and a painfully bent young man. They were happy. The picture was in a silver frame with a soft blue velvet ribbon draped artfully over it. The ribbon didn't detract from the frame or the photo, but highlighted the colors of the woman's dress, making her seem somehow attractive. I recognized Simone's delicate touch. I heard her clear her throat behind me. It took me as second before I realized Gertie was in the same room with me and my eyes weren't watering. No perfume! I spun, astounded. I was even more amazed at the transformation in her. Make no mistake, she was still a large, large woman. But she looked somehow less formidable. Almost feminine, if I could be so bold. I stared, speechless. "Close your mouth, Mr. Sampson. As nice as it is to have you silent, I assume you are here for a reason?" Good old Gertie. "I, uh, yes. We have to talk." "Is this official? I got word of your activation. Congratulations. I think." She, better than most people, knew what this was going to do to me. My only hope was that she could patch me back up after. Again. "No, Gertie, this isn't official." "Can it wait? I have an appointment." "At this hour?" She blushed. Then I noticed the make- up, lightly applied. The fresh lipstick, artfully done. Simone had been very busy, in deed! Gertrude Schwartz, MD had a date or my name wasn't Lawrence Sampson. "Can it wait? Please?" She was pleading with me. This was unprecedented! I shook my head. Sighing, she picked up the telephone. She dialed a four-digit extension. Oh-ho! A local boy, an intra office romance. She turned her back to me for a brief and mostly whispered conversation. I didn't try to hear. She turned back to me, put her massive capable hands flat on the desk and lowered herself into her chair. "I remember a fable from grade school," I started. "A kindhearted woman is out for a walk on a cold winter's day. She comes across a snake in the path, cold, freezing, dying. Her heart goes out to the dying snake. She picks it up, slips it inside her coat, and hurries home. Over the next several days she would feed and cuddle the snake, and eventually the snake recovered. One day following, as the woman picked up the snake and kissed him gently, the snake bit her on the neck. The venom rushed to her brain, and the kindhearted woman fell to the ground, dying. As she lay there, she gasped out to the snake, `Why? Why did you bite me?' The snake replied, `Because I'm a snake. What did you expect?'" Gertie sat there puzzled, then started to get up. She looked angry. I held up my hands, a plea for time. She sat back down, but she glared. "The American people have long held the medical profession in the highest esteem, and rightly so. Years ago, family physicians made house calls, delivered countless babies in bedrooms, saved countless lives from sickness and pretty much wiped out serious diseases. We owe our health and our lives to your profession. We have been trained over the past generations to trust our doctors implicitly, without question. We tell our doctors everything, from Aunt Peg's lumbago to crazy Uncle Willie's wooden leg. We tell them when our family grows, when someone dies, and how it happens. "The doctors moved from visiting us to us visiting them. It made sense, it was more efficient. They could help more of us, and there were certainly more of us that needed help. The population was exploding. The doctors needed hospitals. Hospitals cost money to run. Insurance companies were formed to cover the costs of the medical care. Medicine became a business." Gertie was getting madder, now. This was her profession and she didn't like where this was headed. But I needed her to hear this. She had no idea where I was headed. I held up my hands for patience once more. I didn't think it would work again. She was pissed. . "Businesses run on information. The information we entrust to hospitals is total, absolute. They know where we live, where we work, how much money we make, how we are going to pay, credit card numbers, social security numbers, telephone numbers. They know the size of our families and who to contact in case of emergency. In short, the hospital databases contain all the information you would need to determine if you could safely make a person disappear." "Mr. Sampson! That's quite enough. Those databases are secure!" "Are they, now? Suppose a person worked for a government agency in a sensitive position. The FBI runs a security check on that person to the level appropriate to the position. You know that. And even with those measures, some of that secure information still gets out. "Now suppose a group of people skilled in the art of subversion and seduction was suddenly out of a job. Their government no longer needed them. They immigrate to another country whose people welcomed them with open arms. These kindhearted people just wanted to help these unfortunate souls. "The immigrants are industrious, but this is not their country, not their culture, not their landsmen, not their laws. Some of them gravitate to the shadier side of the law where they are more comfortable, where there is less competition. Probably by accident, one of them meets or picks up a stray girl. They take her in. Things happen, she panics, tries to get away. An unfortunate trip, a fall, she dies. No one misses her. No one cares. She vanishes. "A seed is planted. They've seen other girls like her. On the streets, in the malls. But who to take? Who has no one to care? Who will no one miss? "Then one day, one of them has an illness, requires hospitalization. They are astounded at all of the personal information they need to provide to the hospital for admittance. Where does all the information go? What is it for? Does everybody have to provide it? You can imagine the questions. "Remember, Gertie, these are people skilled in subverting and recruiting others to do their bidding, even to the point of convincing someone into betraying their own country. One day the pieces fall together. A pretty young girl approaches a bored middle-aged married man. She seduces him. The next day, he is presented with the photographic evidence. His life is ruined if his wife/family/church ever found out. But they don't want money. In fact, they want to give him some. Just give us the name of that young person who was here last weekend. Oh, her address and telephone number, too. "He does, and he is hooked. They probably don't even want the data on the first person they ask for. What they are after comes later, after he has lost all conscience about what he is doing. Nothing happened to the woman after all, and it is always women they ask about. He knows because they make sure he found out that nothing happened to her. "They begin looking for certain types of women. He may even do a search on the database for them. They look for divorced or single women, 18-40 years old, one child is OK as long as it is a girl. Credit checks are run, at hospital expense, of course. Bank balances, savings accounts, it's all available. "Then a certain young woman is targeted. Younger, well- off, single, lonely, recently divorced, and horny. She meets a tall, dark, handsome man who sweeps her off her feet. He's probably in town on business. It may take a week, a month, a year, but he convinces her to move to his town with him. He has a new job for her, better pay. Or maybe he moves her out of country, the Bahamas, far away from familiar people. Then she disappears. Gone." "Oh God! Angela!" Gertie gasped, pale now. "What?" I hadn't quite finished before she interrupted me, but it was obvious she wasn't upset with me now. I don't recall her ever calling me `Angela'. "Angela, a secretary who used to work here. Just divorced, she had sold her house, and got a large cash settlement from her ex. She met this guy, all sudden like. He was here on business. He said he lived in Cincinnati, wanted her to move. He got her a great job at his company. We had a party for her, but at the last minute he had to cancel. We never met him. Then, later, when we tried to send her some of her personal stuff.... The new company didn't know anything about her. Or him." She broke down. "Oh God! Oh God!" I let her cry. There was more I had to tell her. "Another woman, older, divorced or widowed, well off. A kid or two. Another guy, or maybe the same one. A real seduction, she falls in love. Romance for the first time in her life ever. Funds begin to disappear, siphoned off at an alarming rate. Cars, jewelry, gifts she can't afford. When the money is gone, so is he. "Another woman, this one with elderly parents. Another seduction. This man meets the family. Probably poses as an insurance salesman or has a relative who is one. Gives them a great deal on a huge term life insurance policy for the mom and dad. Parents have a tragic accident on Christmas. There's an investigation, the daughter is cleared. The insurance pays out millions, tax-free. Since the boyfriend is there, supportive, loving, before all of this happened, he couldn't possibly be after her money, could he? She, he and the money disappear together." "Ok, Ok. You've convinced me. But why?" "That bothered me, too. None of the tapes, none of the photos turned up here in the States. None of that crap had been sold to the agents who look for this stuff. Then it hit me. Gertie, do you know how many people in this world hate Americans? I mean, really hate us? With loathing, with deep dark jealousy, angry at everything American? I'll tell you. Billions. "Oh, it may not be the first thing they think of when they get up in the morning, but at some point in the day, they will come across some reminder of the difference between them and us. A plane will fly overhead, a boat or car speed by, they will glimpse a old episode of `Dallas' on the community TV. Something. And they will be reminded, again and again of how much they hate us. "Now, Gertie, imagine giving those billions of people the opportunity to see soft white American bitches being humiliated, being beaten, to hear them screaming, begging, to see them bleed. To see them die, horrible, painful deaths. How much would they pay? Now feed that perversion slowly over time. They would be like junkies and would need more and more, ever more horrible and graphic. Or give those men the opportunity to fuck a real American cunt, pink and tender. Fuck it to death. Don't worry about the damage, they're cheap. There's more where it came from. Tell me. How much would they pay for a piece of revenge?" Gertie was weeping openly now. "Why? Why are you telling me this? What am I supposed to do?" I paused. "In the hospital, with Simone, you asked her for one name. Just one. You wanted revenge. You felt what I do now. You feel that way again, now, don't you?" I paused letting her think. "Simone couldn't give you a name. I can. Do you still want it?" Gertie stared at me, in anguish. I knew that particular torment she was in. "He is involved?" "Yes." "Positive?" "Gertie, you know me better than that." She nodded. "I... I..." She took a deep breath. I thought she was going to ask me for the name. "I can't do it." I stood and walked towards the door. Just as I reached it, she said, softly, almost to herself, "I'm sorry I'm so weak, Larry. I - I just can't." Without turning, I replied, "It isn't you who is weak, Gertie, because you can't do this. I'm the one who is weak, because I can." The Analyst had confirmed the name I had put in the envelope when I had handed him the briefcase. He was involved, and had been for years. Dumbo had identified him by what he wore - a white lab coat with a red carnation. I knew his name. I picked him up from his home one night later that week. He wasn't expecting me, but then, if he had been, he wouldn't have been sound asleep. He would have been out of the country, if he was smart. I left his wife and children asleep in their beds. Carl Anderson, Assistant Hospital Administrator, did not enjoy the last three days of his life. He spent them screaming, strapped to the bottom of a 3-ton counterweight of a freight elevator in a 12-story apartment building. I visited him on the second day, after he had been riding the bottom of that heavy weight in the terrifying darkness of the elevator shaft. As I hung there by my harness, riding up and down with him, he told me everything I wanted to know, everything he knew or thought he knew. He probably even made stuff up, just for me. He had been so helpful I left a light on at the bottom of the shaft so he could see the floor rushing up at him as the balance plunged down, lifting the elevator higher and higher. When would someone push the button to top floor? When would the weight crash down on those closely spaced heavy iron I-beams down below? Sometimes shedding a little light on something can be more terrifying than being in the dark. Apparently Carl Anderson thought so. He went insane before night fell. I was almost disappointed he wasn't with it for the grand finale. Two elderly women returned from the country late Sunday evening. They had won yet another free weekend in that lovely spa upstate. The younger woman pushed her older sister onto the freight elevator, the wheelchair gliding smoothly over the worn wooden slats. She pushed the button to their floor, the penthouse. The elevator rose smoothly, then it stopped short of the 12th floor with a lurch. The doors opened and she noticed they were about three inches too low. For a moment she was frustrated as it was Sunday and the building superintendent wouldn't be there until Monday morning. Then she remembered what that nice repairman had told her to do when this happened. It had happened before, in fact, several times a couple of years ago. Dutifully, she pushed the button to close the doors, sent the car down four floors, then back up, just like the nice man had shown her. The third time she did this, the elevator arrived at their floor with only a fraction of an inch difference in the floor heights. The younger woman knew that by tomorrow even that little difference would be gone. Smiling, the ambulatory woman was able to push her sister up over the small inconvenience and into their apartment. I died a little when I saw the lights on the twelfth floor come on. But this was just the first of many, many free weekends in the country for those two nice old ladies, and I knew I would die a little more each time they came home. I reached for the special cell phone I had for these occasions. I dialed the number I had memorized and gave the pre-arranged signal. "Clean up." * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * The End, for now.