Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: The Heat Wave
Part: 6 of 25
Universe: The Heat Wave
Summary: Meet Cletus Putnam: landlord, entrepreneur, opportunist, sometime
Dom.  It's hotter than Hell and he has the only swimming pool and central
air conditioning in his little lower middle-class neighborhood -- and he's
not above taking advantage of that fact.
Content: exhib mast MF M-dom oral anal voy

Chapter 6


        Karen and Pete left around noon, largely because Kate was due back
from Girl Scout Camp at mid-afternoon and there were things to be done.
Before they left, I laid down some rules for Karen:

        "From here on out, you're gonna be known as 'No Pants Moffat.'  You
wear what you have to for work, but you'll wear skirts -- short ones --
around me and otherwise in public.  I wanna see your titties bounce, so you
be braless for me -- get some halters or something else hot.  If you have to
wear a bra for some reason, I'd better see your bellybutton.  Panties are as
I direct -- and never in my presence if you're not on the rag.  Don't try to
bullshit, me, either, because if I don't see blood, I'm gonna punish your
ass."

        "Pete, here, is my deputy," I added, "He'll be watching to make sure
you follow instructions.  I recommend that you don't try wheedling him or
giving him shit, because I'll take a strap to BOTH of you if I find out --
and I WILL find out!"

        "Cletus, Honey, I can't afford..." Karen began -- and I cut her off.

        "Don't wheedle me."  I reached into my pocket and fished out two
hundred dollars.  "Don't spend it all in one place -- and I'd better be
pleased with the results.  Now, you say, 'Yes, Cletus,' understand?  It's
'Yes, Cletus,' or 'No, Cletus' -- and if you have a REASON that my
instructions are a problem, tell me straight out, but if you have an excuse,
keep it to yourself."

        "Yes, Cletus."  Karen actually smiled, which confused the shit out
of Pete.

        "Now get your fanny off my porch," I told her.  "Bring Pete around
tomorrow when it's time to go to work and we'll find something to occupy our
time -- Kate, too.  We'll stick her in the pool and dunk her a few times or
something.  Bring street clothes to wear when you go home -- but nothing
else, because you're gonna be naked once you cross the threshold.
Questions?"

        "No Cletus."

        "Good.  Get outta here.  Pete, you make sure she toes the line.
Hang on a minute."  I went inside and scrawled my telephone number on a
scrap of paper.  "Call me if she gives you any shit."  I waved them off.

        Once they were gone, I spent two hours making sure my little empire
was in one piece, then got in the Mercedes and headed out to get some
things.  It took a while -- adult video stores tended to be full of shit
that LOOKED like bondage equipment, but wasn't.  I didn't want anything
decorative, I wanted functional.  I had to hit three or four places to get a
good start on things -- and a couple of pet stores.

        About four o'clock, my cell phone rang -- I was in a store, picking
over merchandise.  The source number was Moffat's.  "What's up, Pete?"

        "Uh, Mr. Putnam, this is Kate."

        "Oh.  Hi, Honey.  What's up?"

        "Mom's acting funny and Pete's acting funny and I'm not
understanding a thing that's going on, but your name keeps coming up."

        "Oh."  I thought about it.  "Honey, I'd probably have an even harder
time explaining over the phone.  Your momma is going to bring you over when
she goes to work tomorrow -- can you just go with the flow until then?  I'll
sit you down and explain it all then..."

        "I dunno Mr. Putnam -- it's all kind of scary..."

        "It'll all make sense -- I promise."

        "If you say so.  Petey..."

        "Honey, you need to break yourself of that habit."

        "What habit?"

        "Calling your brother little kid names.  It' not nice, and Pete has
enough problems without having his sister making him look small in public."

        "Oh."  I could tell that there was an undercurrent of 'Where do you
get off?' in there, but she absorbed the rebuke.

        "Did your mom ask you to go shopping with her?"

        "Well, no -- I think she's trying to explain something..."

        "Give her the phone."

        "Cletus?" Karen answered.

        "Stop worrying Kate -- I'll handle things tomorrow.  Take her
shopping for your new clothes.  Get her some similar stuff -- she'll
appreciate it.  I'll give you some more clothing allowance when you come
over tomorrow."

        "Cletus..."

        "Don't worry," I told her, "you'll earn it."

        "Yes, Cletus."

        "Does Kate want to talk to me some more?"

        "Hang on."  After a moment, Karen came back.  "I guess not."

        "Don't confuse her -- I'll explain it all tomorrow.  Let me talk to
Pete."

        "Yes, Cletus."

        "Yes?" Pete came on the line.

        "Are things under control?"

        "Well, Kate's a little grumpy.  Mom's been trying to talk around
things..."

        "She's to stop.  I will handle Kate tomorrow.  I told Kate to stop
calling you Petey -- if she doesn't at least make an effort, I'll want to
know about it tomorrow.  Okay?"

        "Okay."

        "Put your momma back on."

        "Yes, Cletus?" Karen responded.

        "I called Kate down for referring to Pete as 'Petey.'  You back me
up.  I don't have to tell you what will happen if Pete tells me you went
limp on this -- I'm looking at paddles as we speak."

        "Yes Cletus!"

        "See you tomorrow."

                       ----------------------------------

        Needless to say, the Cantrells -- that's Jean's brood, did I mention
that? -- stayed away.  I wasn't terribly worried; I had my hands full, and I
knew that Jean was going to be uptight after having been caught peeking.

                       ----------------------------------

        Thursday, I busied myself with this and that, collecting a few
things in the cellar and making like a handyman after going over a deal one
of my brokers sent me.  This guy was new and apparently thought I was an
idiot, since the numbers clearly didn't work.  I called him up and thanked
him for thinking of me, then poked holes in the deal until it looked like
aged Swiss cheese; he got the point.

        Still no Cantrells.  Michael was home and I caught him walking the
floors at his house a couple of times and looking out the window, but he
didn't come over.  I figured that I should gather some intelligence, so I
went over and hammered on the door about two o'clock, knowing that only
Michael was home.  "What's up, Sport?"

        "Mama's on the rag again," he related, watching me to see if I'd
rebuke him, "probably because of what you did to Mrs. Moffat.  Or maybe
because you caught her peeking."  He smiled slyly.

        "I caught YOU, too!" I laughed, "but you're welcome to watch.  In
fact, I don't have to tell you what this does for your chances of getting
pussy off Mrs. Moffat, do I?"

        "Nope!" Michael grinned from ear to ear.

        "How long will this one last, do you figure?" I asked.

        "I don't know," Michael mused.  "Mom's pretty agitated.  She spent
an hour and a half in the bathroom yesterday."

        "Can you see?" I asked.  "What's her favorite method of getting
herself off?"

        "It's tough when Heather's around," Michael replied, confirming my
suspicions.  "I think she likes the hand sprayer best."  He looked a little
distant.  "Sometimes I wonder if..."

        I cocked my head -- this might be important...  "If what?"

        "If she wants me to see," he related.

        "How do you do it?"

        "I open the door a crack -- real quiet.  She usually has the water
running."

        "That's REAL dangerous, Son," I chuckled, "in the unlikely event she
doesn't know.  But I bet you're right -- she's getting off on giving you a
show."  I rubbed my chin.  "What do you think it's gonna take to break her?
Does she need to see more sex on the patio?"

        "That might help, but letting you know you've seen her -- that won't
cut it," Michael opined.

        "What about Heather?"

        "She had that fight with Amy -- but I think she wants to make up.  I
don't know how into you she is, but I know Amy is."

        "Do you have any idea whether Heather does girls or not?" I asked.

        "Nope.  Heather is secretive -- no way she would let me know
something like that."

        I nodded.  "This thing between her and Amy has cut communications
between Amy and me.  If they aren't totally on the outs, Amy may try to
soften Heather up with some girl-girl stuff.  If that seems to be happening,
stay out of sight and let Amy handle it -- you'll win by it."

        "Okay."

        "I'll try to arrange a show for tonight," I informed Michael.  "Let
me know tomorrow what effect it has."

        "Okay, no sweat."

        "Later."

        "Later."

                       ----------------------------------

        The Moffats showed up at five; Karen called and asked if they could
come early so they could show off the wardrobe, and I said yes.  In general,
Karen did a good job -- a jean skirt and a tube skirt, both short enough to
be pleasing.  Women were undoubtedly going to tell her that a woman with her
hips and butt shouldn't be in short skirts -- but I didn't give two shits
what the hung-up thought about it.  Karen got a couple of halters, too,
showing good sense and picking up some with a sling on the inside that
helped hold up her jugs while letting her nipples pop.  Kate was gushy over
the tube tops she'd gotten, along with a jean skirt matching her momma's and
a couple of spaghetti-strap tops that were plenty thin enough to show off
her jigglies even two layers deep.

        Karen changed into her work uniform and got ready to go.  Turning to
me at the door, she said, "Cletus..." watching me with troubled eyes.

        "Don't say it," I warned her.  "If you do, it's a done deal -- just
because you tried to forbid it.  I do the forbidding around here, remember?"

        "Yes, Cletus."

        "Don't get that crap on the way home," I told her.  "We'll have
something ready here."

        "Yes, Cletus."

        I eyed Kate and decided not to make her mother do anything too wild
yet.  "Hurry back."

        "Yes, Cletus.  Bye!"  She included the kids -- and appeared
obviously reluctant -- but she got in her car and left.

        "Pete, Buddy, why don't you stick yourself in the pool while I
explain things to your sister."

        "Sure."  Pete was more than happy to get out of there.

        I took Kate into the TV room.  "Sit."  I waved at the couch.

        "What's going on?"

        "Honey, have you ever seen your momma with a guy?" I asked.

        "No."

        "Ever wonder why?"

        "Well, no."

        "What about you -- do you like guys?  What about girls?"

        "What?  Ewww!  I like guys!"

        "How much, Honey?  A lot?"

        "Uhh, Mr. Putnam..."

        "Call me Cletus -- everyone else in your family does.  I'm asking
the question for a reason -- and it has little to do with you."

        "Well, yeah, I guess.  There are guys..."

        "Guys you'd like to try out?"

        "Yeah."

        "Okay.  What do you think of my pool rules?"

        "They're cool.  I can't understand why Heather and her mom get all
paranoid.  I wouldn't mind going naked at all if it meant I could swim."

        "Are you worried that I have long fangs and an even longer dick?"

        "Well, not terribly."

        I sat back.  "Given how you feel about guys and sex, why would you
expect your mother to feel differently?"

        Kate pondered this.  "I don't know, really -- she just does,
apparently."

        "So she does without -- but she didn't teach you to be uptight like
Mrs. Cantrell has taught Heather.  Do you think that's odd?"

        "Maybe," Kate said cautiously.

        "Let's talk about addiction," I said, apparently changing the
subject.  "You understand how it is with alcoholics and junkies, right?
Either they're using, or they're on the wagon?"

        "Yes..."  Kate clearly didn't understand yet.

        "For some people, sex is addictive," I told her.  "I'm certainly
addicted -- most males are.  Women seem to be able to turn it off and on --
and a lot of times, it's linked to motherhood.  Obviously, some girls like
sex and some girls LOVE sex -- and some girls just do it because it's
expected of them.  But some women are addicts..."

        Kate frowned.  "What are you saying?"

        "Your mother went cold turkey after Pete was born and your dad left
-- but she's a sexoholic.  And she has special needs, many of which make her
a wild thing."  I sighed.  "Thanks to me, she's fallen of the wagon."

        "Oh."  Kate sat there, blinking, while she processed this.

        "It's not that simple, I'm sure, Honey, but that's the way it is.
It's probably why your daddy left her -- it takes a special kind of person
to understand where her head is at.  You see, she wants to be owned."

        "Owned?"

        "Owned."  I nodded.  "She wants to do wild shit -- but not be
responsible for her actions.  She wants someone to tell her it's okay to do
stuff that identifies her as a slut.  So she needs a keeper -- someone to
boss her around and take responsibility for her actions.  Fortunately, I
have some experience in this area."

        "I don't believe you."

        "Okay.  Ask Pete.  He's seen it already.  Your mother and I have had
sex four or five times already -- once in front of him.  She got off on it
-- it was kinky."

        Kate squirmed in her chair.  "Omigawd."

        "I see you're a chip off the old block," I murmured.  "Are you still
a virgin?"

        Her eyes flicked to mine.  "Just barely."

        "What have you done?"

        "I've given head a couple of times."

        "Are you any good?"

        "I don't know."

        I dropped it.  "I give your mother a lot of credit; she went cold
turkey so you kids would have a decent life growing up, instead of turning
tricks out of a trailer or something, or living with a series of abusive
guys.  That took tremendous fortitude on her part.  It's over, though; she's
going to go through a wild period now.  You need to understand this."

        "What's going to happen?"

        "I'm going to moderate things -- although it may not appear to you
that's what I'm doing.  I'm going to try to limit her and protect her -- but
in the process, I have to give her some of what she's been missing, or
she'll go outside and go totally wild.  That means she'll be doing a lot of
wild shit under my supervision.  You need to know that while it may look
like I'm just getting my jollies at her expense, I'm really trying to keep
things from going off the scale."

        "Have you done this before?"

        "A couple of times.  I'm no expert, but I have some experience.  I
need to backtrack some; in order to get us past the first few hurdles, I
presented this as a disease your mother has -- and it isn't.  She just
doesn't respond to sex in what many people consider a normal fashion.  You
understand bell curves, right?"

        "Uh huh."

        "Your momma is way over on the left.  She's been pretending to be on
the right end, but things have slipped -- and you know how it is when a
pendulum takes off, right?"

        "Yeah -- it swings all the way over..."

        "Exactly.  There are a number of people who consider Dominance and
Submission a lifestyle; generally, the mainstream group doesn't understand
and gives them crap about it, so you don't see it much -- but it's there.
Your average Goth chick is looking for something on the edge -- maybe not
the same thing, but they're advertizing themselves as being on the fringes,
you know?"

        "Sure.  Uh huh."  Kate nodded.

        "Your mother has submitted to me.  She's put herself in my hands.
She obeys me -- willingly.  She can leave at any time -- but she can't come
back.  That might seem mean, but it's something she wants, actually --
nothing that is totally free is going to seem worth it to her.  Do you
understand?"

        "It's weird, but -- yes."  I had no doubt; she was looking more and
more aroused.

        "Do you know what BDSM is?" I asked.

        "Well..."

        "You've heard of it, right?  But was it ever really explained?"

        "No."

        "BDSM is a complex acroynm that stands for Bondage and Discipline, Dominance and Submission, Sadism and Masochism.  Some people enjoy being restrained and worked on sexually while they are unable to resist.  It allows them to get past their hang-ups and get serious pleasure because there is nothing they can do about it.  Discipline can be a physical or a mental thing, but in either case it is an expression of control; it can be about corporal punishment -- spanking, for instance, for misbehavior -- or about humiliation and embarrassment -- and the guilty thrill that goes with it.  The orgasm your mother had after Pete caught us fucking nearly blew her head off.  Sadism and masochism you probably understand, vaguely.  Some people enjoy inflicting pain, and some people enjoy receiving it.  Now, oddly, there are other things that go on that have to do with inflicting pain and receiving it that aren't necessarily sadism and masochism.  A Dominant, may not be -- and even probably isn't -- a sadist -- but he may inflict pain on his submissive.  Why?  It is a test of the submissive's trust and fidelity and commitment.  Will he or she do that crazy thing the Dominant demands -- or is the submissive just faking -- kidding himself or herself?  You have to understand that the submissive is just as pleased with success as the Dominant -- because he or she has done something insane and thrilling and proven his or her worth.  It's kind of like 'Truth or Dare' taken beyond the pale."

        "Okay."  Kate's eyes were glazed.

        "I'm trying to give you this background so you understand that I'm
going to do unpleasant and embarrassing things to your momma -- and it isn't
just because I feel like it and she won't be just taking a lot of crap
without gaining anything from it.  She'll be getting her jollies out of it,
as embarrassing and painful as it may seem from the outside."

        "I... see..."  Kate swallowed.

        "Now, we come to you.  Honey, I'm looking into your eyes and I'm
seeing that same hunger.  What do you want me to do about it?"

        "I don't know!" she choked out.

        "When you DO know, I'll be available to help," I told her.  "There
are a couple of suggestions, I'd make.  First, if you're going to get your
cherry popped, get it done right.  You may think it's pompous of me, but I'm
offering -- because I know what I'm doing and I have some idea where your
head is at.  Inexperienced young boys will NOT handle things correctly."  I
smiled.  "Besides, your mother would probably pass out from the orgasm she
got watching us if we tied her up and stuck a vibrator in her pussy..."

        "Omigawd!  Please!"  Kate was shaking in her chair.

        "You like that?  Yes, you're Mama's girl all right..."  I chuckled
evilly, because I knew that was what she wanted to hear.  "I'm gonna give
you a free pass -- you sit back in your chair and stick your hand in your
panties and I promise not to stir myself from this chair -- and I'll tell
you some stories that will get your rocks off -- how's that?"  This wasn't
going according to plan -- but then again, nothing ever did, it seemed like.
I'd more or less promised Karen that if she didn't get stupid and ask me not
to fuck her, I would stay away from Kate for the day -- well, actually, I'd
promised her the exact opposite, but that came to the same thing.

        "R--really?"

        "Really.  Slide your panties off and flip up your skirt so I can
watch you diddle yourself and I'll tell you all the juicy details of your
mother's and my first tryst -- and the second, and the third -- and how all
of the pieces fit together.  And if that's not enough, I'll discuss a couple
of fine possible situations to come..."

        "Y--you'll stay there?  W--what about Peter?"

        "I said I would," I replied.  "What about him?  Want me to call him
in?  All the shit you give him aside, he's got a nice cock -- maybe he
should take your cherry.  I would supervise...  Incest -- now, that's
NASTY..."

        "Oooohhh..."  Kate thrashed in her seat.

        "Get 'em off or I won't tell you any more stories..."  I licked my
lips.  "You know you want to -- you've been thinking about it for days..."

        She had -- I KNEW she had.  Now she knew that I knew...  She reached
under her skirt and pulled them up over her knees and down over her calves,
dropping them beside her flip-flops on the floor.  "That's it.  Keep your
feet up like that.  Spread your legs so you can get in there and really
enjoy yourself...  Push up your skirt.  Gee, look at that trim!  Who did you
do THAT for, I wonder?"

        Kate was panting, her nostrils distended.  She had a VERY neatly
trimmed vertical strip above her clit -- it had seen recent attention, and
we both knew why.  "Okay, Baby," I directed, "Work it for me.  Show me how
you get off.  Show me your titties -- just lift the shirts, in case Pete
comes in.  You don't want to get him too excited, or he might crawl into
your bed one night and show you just how much of a man he really is..."

        "Uuggghhhh!!!"  Kate slid two fingers down over her mound and when
they came back up, her lips popped open to expose her pink insides.  She
hauled at her tops to expose her breasts, cupping one and playing with her
nipple.

        "That's Momma's girl.  Momma's a total slut -- you know that?  I sat
Momma down in my Jacuzzi and she stuck her pussy over a nice, hot jet of
water -- and the next thing you know, she was howling at the moon!  Can you
imagine having that water bubbling past your clit, boiling in your hot
little pussy?  Your mamma just loved it!"

        "Urrgh!"  Kate's hips were dancing in the chair; she was undulating,
braced on her feet which were spread wide on the seat.

        "Then your momma begged me to fuck her, so I laid her out on the
bench right out there in the deck and pounded her pussy while she whined and
gasped and wailed and told me how good it was.  And Mrs. Cantrell watched
the whole thing from her window -- is that hot or what?  That isn't all,
either -- Michael saw it all, too.  Can you imagine what he thinks now when
he sees your mother -- after watching her howl with joy while I put the meat
to her?  You can bet he gets all hot-eyed, just looking at her..."

        "Fuck!  FUUUCK!"  Kate was panting, her eyes glazed, while her
fingers buzzed her clit.  "Gaaawd..."

        "When I finished blowing my wad of gooey cum in her, she confessed
to me what a slut she was.  Fortunately, I understand these things, I knew
what needed to be done.  I accepted her submission and had her kneel up and
suck my cock -- and while she was doing it, I told her all about the fact
that Jean Cantrell was watching us from the window, diddling herself while
she watched your momma abase herself to me...  I even made your momma wave!"

        "UUUUUGGGHHHH!!!"  Kate arched herself and her eyes rolled up in her
head and she shook there, in the chair.  I sat and watched her, as I'd
promised I would.  After a moment, she settled back in the chair.  I watched
a couple of shivers pass through her.  She looked up.  "Neat story.  You
were just kidding, right?"

        I shook my head.  "Sorry, Honey -- it's all true.  I thought that
might make it better, in some way..."

        "You fucked Mom in the back yard?"

        "Yup.  The whole story is true -- the Jacuzzi, the fuck, your momma
coming clean about being a wild thing but being on the wagon, her sucking my
dick, waving at Jean Cantrell, Michael -- the whole thing.  Every word of it
is true."

        "Oh... My...God..."  She sat staring at the two sticky fingers she'd
used to rub her pussy.

        "Go ahead, lick 'em," I told her.  "You know you want to and I know
you want to -- you're not kidding anybody here.  As for the story -- ask
your mother when she comes in tonight -- she'll tell you.  It might be
interesting to hear it from her viewpoint.  I bet you get off..."

        Kate threw up her hands.  "There are limits..."

        "There are now..." I agreed.  "There weren't five minutes ago.
There won't be, later, either.  You know why you crap on your little brother
so much?  Because he's male -- and ultimately, he can make you do anything
he wants -- he just didn't know it.  Problem is, he does now..."

        "He wouldn't..."

        "Fuck you?"  I shook my head.  "Right now, he's real clear on the
fact that incest isn't a good thing.  But if you two cut loose on him one
dark night, he might follow his dick and his instincts.  That's why you need
me."  I eyed her.  "How many boys know you're a slut?"

        "One," Kate sighed.  "At camp."

        The camp you were just at?"

        "Yeah."

        "How did that happen?"

        "The girls.  Late night tales.  You.  Your Adult Swim rule.  One of
the counselors noticed I was worked up.  But we were... interrupted."

        "Who was telling the hot stories?"

        Kate rolled her eyes.  "Me."

        I laughed.  "Why now?"

        "It's been coming.  You're right -- I beat on Peter because he's a
threat.  I've been dealing with it for almost two years.  I... couldn't talk
to mom about it -- she seemed totally impervious."

        I laughed.  "The joke's on you, I guess."

        "Apparently.  Unless you've just figured me out and are jerking my
chain about Mom."

        "Peter can answer that," I replied.  "And he probably won't incite a
riot in the process.  You know you've nearly ruined him?"

        "What do you mean?"

        "He was starting to think he might be gay -- all the feminine
pressure he was getting at home on top of the crap he's getting at school
has him doubting his masculinity."

        "Oops."

        "Yeah.  Frankly, we need to get him to pussy -- any suggestions?"

        "Well, no..."

        "Okay.  Just don't get in the way when the time comes -- and if you
could help it would be nice."

        "Okay."

        "Put on your suit -- let's go for a swim."

        "I thought..."

        "Shit, you're right.  Okay, I'm going for my constitutional.  You
can go later, when I come out."

        "Right."

                       ----------------------------------

        Karen knocked on the door at about midnight.  I opened it and
stepped back.  "Come in.  Close the door.  Strip."

        "Right here?"

        "Right there.  Hang your clothes on the coat hooks there beside the
door."

        "Where are my kids?"

        "In the TV room."

        "What did you tell Kate?"

        "That you're a slut," I grinned.  "Surprise -- she is, too."  I
raised my hand.  "No, I didn't take advantage of the fact.  But you two need
to conduct some open conversation.  It seems that she's been struggling with
some... impulses... for a couple of years."

        "Seriously, Cletus -- what did you tell her?"

        "The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," I replied.
"Why aren't you undressed?"

        She stood there for a moment, eyeing me, then started moving.  "Just
slow, I guess.  You really are evil..."

        "I think we've covered that," I grinned.

                       ----------------------------------

        Kate gave a little gasp at her mother's state of undress; I provided
amplification, "Your mother's status is different from yours, Kate -- she is
my property, more or less.  I require her to be naked in my home at all
times.  Besides, she's going to be using various of the facilities and it is
after seven p.m."  I turned to Karen.  "Go take a shower and get the pine
smell off -- I think Kate turned out something for you to eat in the
kitchen.  Then the two of you should enjoy the Jacuzzi while you bring each
other up to date, I think.  Don't wear yourself out, though -- we're gonna
fuck, after."

        "Um, yes Cletus."  Karen turned to Kate.  "I'll be back."

        "Meet her in the kitchen," I directed.  "Pete and I are going to
look for something decent on TV."  Karen left, and Kate, after a moment of
meeting my eyes, understood the dismissal.

        Pete watched his sister leave.  "First Mom, and now Kate?"

        "The answer for Kate is, 'Not yet,' actually -- but she has her
mother's issues, so it's only a matter of time," I told him.  "That's why
she rags on you -- she's scared to death that one night you'll walk into her
bedroom and she won't be able to say no."

        "Really?"

        "Ask her.  She may try to bullshit you -- if she does, say, 'That's
not what you told Cletus -- do you want me to tell him this crap?'  She'll
change her tune."

        "So what are you going to do?"

        "With Kate?  Long-term, I have no idea.  Short-term, I may team her
with Amy to bring down Heather and her mother."

        "Do you need them?"

        "Now that you mention it, no -- but I have time and energy invested.
Besides, YOU need them," I replied.

        "Oh."

        "At this rate, I have no idea what's next," I admitted, "but we'll
play it by ear."

                       ----------------------------------

        I gave Karen and her daughter a full thirty minutes in the Jacuzzi
before I fished Kate out and pointed her at the house.  "You sleep in the
guest room.  Stay out of the TV room -- your brother is in there."  Kate
wobbled off, weak-kneed, in just a towel.  "You'd better have saved me
some," I told Karen, "Let's do the bench again."  Sotto voce, I added, "No
waving this time -- it embarrasses Jean."

        Karen giggled.  "Fuck her, if she's dumb enough to just watch."

        "Michael's out there, too, I bet," I murmured as I rocked her back.
"Heather, too, maybe."

        "Good," Karen gasped as I penetrated her.  "I hope they enjoy the
show."

        "You're off tomorrow, right?" I grunted.

        "No.  It's Friday..."

        "Okay, Saturday, then.  We'll do it in broad daylight."

        "Yes...."

        After that it was just fucking.  Karen loved dick -- and it appeared
the more of it she got, the happier she was about it.  That was fine with me
for the moment, but there was always the concern that she would forget her
position in the grand scheme of things.  Well, I was ready to remind her, so
it was no big thing.

        Having gone to some effort at preparation for this scene, I milked
it some; once Karen had gotten off once, I rolled her over onto her hands
and knees, lubed her, and slid my cock into her ass.  "Ah, shit!" Karen
gasped, "Nobody's done that to me in years!  Fuck me!  Fuck my ass!  Ah,
fuck!"  It was good stuff, if messy; I paddled her ass cheeks occasionally
to keep her tight until I blew a load into her colon, then cleaned the goo
off with a very conveniently placed towel.

        I never once looked at Jean's place -- I didn't have to.  Earlier in
the day, I'd set up infrared cameras pointed at her windows.  After Karen
cleaned up, I called her in and we sat in my office, watching the videos of
us fucking, followed by Jean peeking at us and masturbating, followed by
Michael watching us and masturbating.  Poor Heather -- her room was on the
other side of the house...