Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 20
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: MF oral anal humil voy F-solo mast mf ir

Keywords for full story:  rom, mf, MF, mmf, MFF, M+F, mm, F-solo, ir, D/s,
bdsm, mdom, spank, oral, anal, 1st, reluc, nc, voy

Strange Relationships

Copyright © Thinking Horndog, 2006 im_a_thinker@yahoo.com

Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. Reproduction for profit
is forbidden.  Any distribution must include this note and the author's
email address. Don’t be caught attempting to make a buck off me!

Warnings and disclaimers:

This is adult entertainment!  Be warned!  If you’re not into graphic
depictions of sex, this is the wrong story for you!  If you’re too young to
be legally reading this, move along!

This is a work of fiction.  It is not intended to reflect any particular
person or persons, and the incidents portrayed exist in their current form
solely in the writer’s imagination.  You get the idea.

Chapter 20
Sharon Visits Armand at Home


	Jorge rang the bell at eleven-thirty on the dot.  Sharon let him
hand her into the limo and settled back to shake as the car moved smoothly
through the traffic.  What was Armand up to?  Nora seemed to think he had
some master plan -- no doubt with some reason, although she apparently
wasn't at liberty to share...  Sharon had NO idea, but things had been
escalating steadily since the previous weekend, so there was no telling...
Nora's introduction to sex had somehow upset the equilibrium they had
maintained since the divorce; now Armand seemed to feel it was time to
change all of the rules they lived by, for reasons known only to him...

	The house was... imposing.  Sharon recognized it as a place she'd
seen peripherally on a number of occasions during fundraising visits in this
neighborhood.  Armand had probably gotten a chuckle out of being so close
by, but undetected.  As for Sharon, she didn't NEED to find Armand -- he
always managed to find HER, so the situation had never come up.  She'd
assumed that he lived in a high-rise in the city, and left it at that.  Now
she realized that a number of things that she'd taken for granted or ignored
might come back to bite her.  For one thing, Armand lived a LOT closer than
she'd ever assumed, and she wasn't sure what that meant exactly, but it
certainly promoted a sense of unease...

	A spare black woman in an only mildly abbreviated grey maid's frock
greeted her at the door and took her wrap, then led her to what was
undoubtedly Armand's study.  It was nice -- wood, bookcases, heavy
furniture, lamps working to dispel the gloom of a rainy day through the
windows...  Armand turned to the woman as she seated Sharon in a leather
chair opposite him and announced, "Tell Velma she may serve."  He was
finishing up an abstract of the previous night's activities at the distaff
Wilson residence, so he looked up at his ex-spouse, "What do you think of
young Mr. Adams?"

	"He's okay, I guess.  I'm not sure my opinion is really relevant,"
Sharon replied.

	"I gather that he stayed the night last night."

	"Mmmm, yes.  I wasn't consulted, and was somewhat surprised, but at
this point, I can't see where it makes anything any worse..."  Obviously,
Armand's spies had been busy...

	"True.  I merely wanted a second opinion.  Mr. Adams doesn't have
much in the way of a home, and I'd prefer that Nora be comfortable when she
enjoys her lover, so they're undoubtedly better off...  And the state of
their relationship?"

	Sharon fiddled with her fingers.  Armand was being reasonably low-
key, understated.  It was unusual; normally, he had a bone to pick or
something visibly up his sleeve...  "About the same, I guess.  It appears to
be serious."

	Armand shrugged.  "They might be, or they might just think they are.
At this point, it makes no difference -- it's valuable experience either
way."

	Sharon was rather amazed at that announcement, but she held her
peace.  The maid appeared at the door and announced, "Lunch is served, Sir."

	Armand rose and waved Sharon before him; Sharon gingerly followed
the maid to the dining room, where she was seated before a nice bit of
broiled tilapia and asparagus with Hollandaise sauce.  "Would you like tea,
or something alcoholic?" Armand asked.

	"Such as?"  Tea was a staple, but Sharon thought some fortification
might yet be necessary.

	"A white wine -- perhaps a pinot grigio?"

	"That would be fine."

	Armand nodded at the maid, "Have Inez open a bottle."  The woman
nodded and left.  "You're waiting for something," he observed.

	"I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop," Sharon replied.  "And I'm
waiting to see some of the things I'm told occur here."

	"Ah."  Armand steepled his fingers.  "I'm sure Nora didn't
exaggerate, but I didn't see any reason to make you too uncomfortable.  On
the other hand, there is no reason to paper over what has become normal
activity..."  He hit an intercom button.  "Jason, would you join us?"

	A wall speaker emitted, "Sir," and in a moment Jason arrived,
carrying a plate, obviously from the kitchen.  Sharon and Jason were not
strangers, but seldom ran in the same circles; Jason was usually the last
person out of Armand's office before he put her through her paces.
Occasionally, but not often, he'd been present; Sharon had no idea why he
was now.

	From Armand's standpoint, there were two reasons:  One was
logistical, and the other... Inez arrived with the wine, picked up Jason
with her eyes, stopped, placed the tray on the sideboard, dumped her blouse,
and recovered the wine to present to Armand, blushing furiously.

	Sharon found that she was somewhat prepared for this -- after all,
Nora had mentioned it.  Armand's eyes reflected his amusement, and Jason
showed his teeth in that death's head grin of his.  Armand approved the wine
as if nothing untoward was occurring and Inez poured.  "Better?" he asked.

	"I don't know about that," Sharon replied, "but it's somewhat
similar to the display that you made for our daughter..."

	Armand grunted.  "Things are somewhat in flux.  I'll explain in a
moment."  Turning to Jason, he directed, "Summon the Wench.  Inez, you may
remain."  Returning his attention to Sharon, he asked, "How much of the
internal political situation did Nora relate to you?"

	"I heard about this one," Sharon nodded at Inez.  "Something about
an affair..."

	"I'm not sure that's fair to the participants," Armand replied.
"Inez's husband was a sort of batman around here, performing certain duties
as a butler and occasionally handling outside projects requiring, er, a
forceful personality.  However, his competence at his inside duties wasn't
what it should have been; he was a rather blunt tool, without finer
sensibilities.  I put up with him for quite some time, but he failed to be
adequately sensitive to my needs on a number of occasions before the most
recent incident."

	"The servants answer to Jason, in the main, though, and he was
displeased regularly.  When direct efforts to corral Raoul failed, he
attempted to motivate Inez to assist in correcting his behavior, using
methods that you would be somewhat familiar with."

	Sharon spared Inez a glance.  Inez was taking this well -- it was
the most charitable portrayal of the conditions leading to her current
situation that Lord Armand had ever uttered in her presence.  "I see."

	"Inez is of rather fatalistic temperament; it soon became apparent
that she considered the upside of Jason's visits to be worth the downside,
and the pair drifted into a situation that Jason never envisioned, I'm
sure..."  Armand eyed Jason -- being probably the only person on earth who
could tell that he was fuming at this revelation -- and smiled minimally.
"In any case, abusing Inez failed to bring Raoul to heel despite what I
consider to be a serious attempt on her part to make it work.  This week, we
moved on to using his daughter Bianca as a foil, treating her as a servant
to the lowest of mine..."

	"Does this involve sex?" Sharon asked, her expression less than
pleased.

	"No.  Not directly, anyway.  Although attending the Wench exposes
one to more than one's fair share...  Still, Bianca's a minor, and not an
employee -- we went MORE than far enough..."  Armand eyed his ex grimly.
"Lusting after adolescents and younger is NOT among my failings, and neither
is any taint of incest.  I prefer my victims to be of legal age to choose to
make a fool of themselves without coercion."  He sat back.  "In any case,
somewhere during the fallout from that action, Raoul suddenly became
convinced that Inez was an adulteress, and things rapidly escalated to
beyond the point of tolerance.  Obviously, the issue had several facets;
Jason's actions were somewhat consistent with methods that had worked for
him before, but the results weren't.  The fact that the whole thing drifted
over the line into recreation without some kind of notice, well, wasn't
wise.  Inez was justifying the whole thing as a valiant effort to support
her family, but there was a quality of self-deception to THAT, too.  Last
but not least, Raoul's misdemeanors more or less set up the situation, and
his other lacks allowed it to continue."

	"You were aware of this?" Sharon asked.

	"Yes.  Not at inception, but soon after.  To an extent, I'm to blame
for allowing it to continue after I discovered it, but considering that fact
that household efficiency actually went up, I decided to overlook it.
Unfortunately, the situation was inherently unstable..."

	"Um.  So, what happened?"

	"Raoul was done, anyway, so I sent him to a branch office.  But he
was a wronged party, so I will support his filing for divorce, which Inez
will not contend..."  Armand's eyes shifted to Inez's, which dropped.  "Inez
now has the issue of her own and her daughter's support, and therefore works
for me -- with all of the attendant vicissitudes, since I am not your
average employer.  Given her religion, the divorce is a serious punishment,
but it isn't adequate, so I have given her to Jason as a slave."

	"And she's agreed to this?"

	Armand nodded.  "Temperamentally, you and she have much in
common..."  He allowed himself a slight smile.

	Sharon grimaced and glanced at Inez, who wouldn't hold her eyes, but
nodded.  "Jason..." Sharon began.

	"Yes, Jason."  Armand sounded almost jovial.  "Jason precipitated a
situation with serious, long-term effects, and on the surface of things, it
appears that things are going all his way..."

	"They're not?"

	"No.  You see, Inez, is pregnant... and devoutly Catholic."

	"Oh, my!"  Sharon's gaze shifted to the majordomo, who looked
distinctly uncomfortable for the first time in her experience.

	"Yes," Armand continued, "I have forbidden him to interfere with the
pregnancy.  He will experience fatherhood, a nice, long-term implication of
his little peccadillo.  Who knows?  Perhaps, in the process, Inez will
domesticate him somewhat?"  This little dig had Jason on the edge of his
seat, visibly tense, gnashing his teeth; Sharon was amazed.  "Of course, he
continues to punish her daily for her idiocy over birth control by whatever
means comes to hand -- you for instance.  Inez is easily embarrassed, so..."
He waved at the heavy Mexican woman's exposure.

	"I see.  This DOES appear to be a bit complicated..."  Sharon was
acutely aware that Armand could be diabolical, but she'd assumed that the
scope was somewhat limited.  "Um, back to something you said...  Household
efficiency went up?"

	Watching Jason out of the corner of his eye, Armand addressed the
question, "Jason and I are very similar in our methods of dealing with
things, although Jason tends to be more direct.  This fosters a certain
extremism in his disciplinary efforts among the staff.  Since his exposure
to Inez, she has acted as a buffer, absorbing some of Jason's excess
energy..."

	Jason couldn't even see -- the world before him existed in shades of
red.  The hand holding his fork had begun to bend it; he was absolutely
enraged, humiliated beyond his ability to cope with the situation.

	Armand took note of the signs and said mildly, "Inez, I believe that
you should offer some type of service to your Master..."

	Inez was scared to death!  Master had NEVER EVER looked this angry,
and he excelled at it!  Fearfully, she minced to a position before Jason.

	"Jason," Armand admonished, "Control!"

	Jason carefully put down his fork.  "Come here, Bitch.  Kneel."
Inez did so.  "Now, do what you do so well -- drain my balls..."  Sharon
might as well not have been there.  Armand was, but he was the cause of the
situation, anyway, and could care less...

	Inez began working at his belt.  The woman in the room meant nothing
to her beside the necessity to cool Master's anger, even though she hadn't
directly fueled it.  Where she would normally be embarrassed by Sharon's
presence, she just couldn't afford to let it bother her...  Jason started
running his hands through her hair; he was pulling it, but she knew better
than to complain; instead, she bore the hauling and tugging stoically while
working steadfastly to extract her Master's suddenly rampant erection.  When
his fly was open and his belt loose, she started tugging, and Jason used his
grip on her hair to raise himself from the chair.  Again, she suffered it,
eyes watering while she fought his trousers past his knees.  Finally, she
succeeded, and he settled back onto the chair; that he would use his grip to
jam his whole cock down her throat without preparation was a given...

	"Armand..."  Sharon's embarrassment was pretty serious.  Jason
wasn't allowing the poor woman much in the way of air, either.

	Armand shook his head fractionally.  "As you can see, Inez has a few
behavioral patterns in common with you, My Dear."  He watched for a few
moments, then admonished, "Jason..."

	"She's fine," Jason grunted.  Inez really wasn't capable of speech;
Armand's warning was to remind Jason that she needed to breathe
occasionally.

	Armand and Sharon watched for a moment more, then Armand cleared his
throat.  "If you'll excuse us for a moment?"  He held a hand out to Sharon
and led her out into the hall, crossed it, and entered another room and
closed the door.  "We'll need to go back, and remain in the vicinity.  I
triggered this, and it will be instructive to Jason in the future, but for
now, our presence keeps him from anything excessive.  Do you understand?"
Sharon nodded, wide-eyed.  "Then we'd best go back.  Pretend you're being
entertained, even if you're not..."  He opened the door and led her back
into the dining room.

	In their absence, Jason had abandoned the blowjob.  He'd had Inez
stand, ripped the waistband buttons and snaps out of her skirt so it puddled
at her feet, and bent her over the table.  As Armand and Sharon entered, he
began working his cock, dry, into Inez's protesting asshole.  When she began
to whine, he delivered a numbing slap to her ass and grated, "Don't you make
a fucking sound, bitch, until I'm all the way in!"

	Inez subsided to the point of merely emitting laboured grunts for
the next few moments while Jason seated himself.  Sharon seated herself and
resumed eating while watching Jason begin to move, setting up a shattering
attack on Inez's poor abused anus.  The arousal that the attack generated
was embarrassing, but it was there, anyway, whether she liked it or not.
Inez puffed and panted, her thick black hair waving every which way as she
absorbed Jason's anger.

	Armand chuckled to himself; he knew the signs.  Undoubtedly, they'd
become more pronounced when Inez turned the corner.  What to do about it was
less clear; perhaps it was best to ignore it and let Sharon stew in her own
juices, since things had so much exceeded his simple plans for this
meeting...

	Jason swatted Inez on the ass.  "Up on your arms, Slut!  I want to
see those fat titties swinging!"  Inez obliged, and the anticipated motion
began immediately, adding a semi-hypnotic component to the display.  In a
few moments, Armand recognized that Inez had turned the corner -- instead of
merely absorbing Jason's thrusts, she began backing into them.  Sharon,
absently munching asparagus, was right behind him in recognition of the
Mexican woman's state, and was therefore unsurprised when she began to moan,
"OooooOooh... Huh... Aiy... Aiy... Aiy..."  Jason started swatting her ass
at that point, but it didn't seem to matter; in fact, it appeared to add to
things...

	Suddenly the Wench bustled in, apologizing, "Sorry, Master, I was
locked in and had to wait for Sir...  Mistress!!"  She hurried over and
curtsied before Armand, but then circled the table and knelt beside Sharon,
who eyed her in surprise.

	Armand, however, nodded approval; this was the woman's function, and
she'd executed it correctly.  "Why were you locked up?"

	The Wench shrugged.  "Sir felt it necessary to remind me of my
estate..."

	Sharon gazed at her, puzzled.  "Why did you kneel before ME?"

	"I have told you this -- it is my function to minister to the needs
of guests.  Do you have any needs?  I see that you have entertainment..."
She spared Jason and Inez a wry glance.  "Are you aroused?  Should I...
help?"

	"Uhhhh, no..."  Sharon was embarrassed nearly to death by the query.
She WAS aroused, but, well...  this just wasn't the place or the time -- or
maybe even the person...

	Armand was smiling thinly.  The Wench's initial reaction to Sharon
had given him a twinge, but it was more or less correct, so he let it lie.

	Inez provided a further distraction at that moment by wailing,
"Ooooohhhh, Dios Mio!!! Aiiiieeeeee!!!!!" and throwing herself back at
Jason, her eyes rolling up.

	Armand commented mildly, "Responsive, isn't she?"  Jason nodded
tightly.  Anger had largely faded, leaving him with the drive to pour his
spunk in the slut's ass.  Funny, how that happened...  Her sphincter was
going nuts; Jason backed off until it was squeezing the base of his glans
and it did as he intended, bringing him those last few millimeters.  He
punched in deep, and roared, "Now take it, you chunky slut!  Take my cum!"

	Armand sighed, eyeing Sharon.  "We've actually exceeded things a
bit; this isn't the normal luncheon entertainment.  In fact, I don't
remember ever actually having sex in the dining room..."

	Jason glanced up at Sharon, "Sorry..."  He wasn't really -- both of
them knew it.  He was just obeying the forms...  Sharon nodded, doing the
same.  Inez, much closer due to her position draped over the table, could
finally afford embarrassment, so she bought a case.  The two women passed a
look in which Inez detected a certain amount of understanding and
forgiveness.  Jason backed off and popped Inez on the ass.  "Up off the
table, Slut.  Drooling on the tablecloth isn't hygienic."  He looked down at
his cock; obviously, Inez hadn't been prepared for anal sex.  "Let's go out
into the hall for a minute..."

	Inez lurched up vacantly and turned toward the door under Jason's
hands.  Sharon watched them out; obviously, they didn't go far.  There were
male murmurs, female murmurs, and the sound of a slap.  Sharon put two and
two together...

	...And got the right answer.  As soon as they were in the hall,
Jason observed, "You were a mess in there -- clean me up!"

	Inez glanced down.  "Dios Mio!  No!"  That was the wrong thing to
say; it earned her a roundhouse slap that brought her to her knees.  She was
still seeing stars when the shitty mess passed her lips.  After that, it
didn't seem to matter; it was awful, repugnant, and at some point she was
going to vomit, but choice wasn't an issue.  Especially messy were the hairs
at the root of Master's cock; there, the excrement seemed to be mixed with
something... a natural lubricant?  She sucked and licked, somehow dealing
with the mess...

	Jason suffered her attentions until it appeared that she was done,
then pushed her away roughly and pulled up his trousers.  Sticking his head
back in the dining room door, he said, "If you'll excuse us, Sir, Inez needs
to clean up..."

	Armand waved, intent on ignoring the whole thing.  Jason ordered,
"Go get your skirt, and hide your mouth -- you're a mess.  Go clean up and
wash that toilet below your nose, then come back to me...  Never mind, I'll
go with you."  He snapped his fingers and pointed, and Inez ran in to
collect her skirt, covering her mouth.  Jason grinned; in reality, there
were no external signs of her recent activity, but she'd be embarrassed, and
that was the point of the exercise. He followed her back to her quarters,
watching her naked ass sway.  Dammit!  Did she have to be so... desirable?

	"Are you SURE you're okay, Mistress?" the Wench asked.  She smelled
excitement...

	"I'm... fine, thank you."  Sharon was wet, and undoubtedly her skirt
would show it when she rose, but SHE wasn't going to have sex in the dining
room...  Turning to Armand, she asked, "What REALLY happened here?"

	Armand shrugged.  "Jason is excitable, although he normally uses an
iron will to control it.  It became apparent that I was delving under his
skin while describing the incident with Inez -- something that seldom occurs
-- so I succumbed to the temptation to seriously rub it in, which brought
his temper to the point that an outburst was not only imminent, it was
required.  The aftermath..."  Armand shrugged again.  "I will revisit this
with him on multiple occasions in the future, as it was an unforgivable
breach.  I apologize for it, as it was NOT my intent to bring a circus to
lunch."  He mused a moment.  "This whole thing has been the most noise and
uproar that has ever occurred here, my entertainment of countless toys
notwithstanding.  It's amazing how the whole thing has gotten out of hand...
Perhaps, since the dining room is no longer a safe haven, we should retire
to the study again..."  Sharon nodded, and the pair rose.  Armand collected
the Wench with his eyes and the trio exited the dining room.  Moments later,
they were in the study, in their starting positions, with the Wench kneeling
next to Sharon's chair.  Armand sat for a moment, then directed, "Retrieve
the wine and the glasses from the dining room."

	Both women started, but Sharon checked her motion while the Wench
shot out the door.  Armand waited while Sharon composed herself and asked,
"How many guests has she served?"

	Armand smiled thinly.  "Just yourself and Nora.  No one has accessed
her 'advanced functions'.  She's rather new, after all..."

	"There have been countless others.  Why did you keep her?"

	"I had an attack of conscience.  I was certain that I had destroyed
her."

	"She claims otherwise."

	"I'm beginning to believe her."  Armand chuckled.  "She's unique in
her pursuit of perfect service.  I find it somewhat amazing."

	"I'm surprised you never trained anyone for it," Sharon rejoined.

	"Besides you?"  Armand chuckled.  "I'm sure you're aware that I
value the battle of wills more than the fruits of the actual conquest.  I
never got around to such."  Sharon nodded, subdued.  What was she here for?
What on Earth was he up to?

	The Wench returned with a tray, carefully handing out the glasses
and refilling them, then setting the tray on a sideboard and resuming her
position.  Armand waited out the interruption, then began, "I imagine you're
wondering..."

	"Yes."

	"All right.  Nora has absorbed her patterns of upright conduct from
you, and apparently most of them took.  Now it's time for her to absorb a
bit of reality.  I propose to move her here so that she can observe the real
world in action."

	"You're going to contest custody, at this late date?"  Sharon nerved
herself for a fight.

	"I don't see that as necessary," Armand replied blandly.  "The
conditions that dictated our separation have elapsed.  Therefore, I think it
best that both of you return home."

	"Home?  Neither of us has been here more than once!  That's not MY
definition of 'home'!  Armand, we're NOT married any more!"  Sharon was
nonplussed.  The NERVE of the man!  But then again, this WAS Armand...  "Our
home is across town."

	"Your home is where I consider it best that you be," Armand
contended.  "That applies to YOU even more than it does to Nora, as she will
undoubtedly be making her own way at some point.  YOUR place is with ME!"

	"Armand, we're NOT married..."

	"You intend to deny that we have a relationship?" Armand countered.

	"Uuh, we don't HAVE to..."

	"Who do you think controls that?"

	Sharon glared at her ex-husband furiously.  Okay, she knew the
answer to that question, but she was damned if she'd admit it verbally!

	"As for your home, how much of a haven do you think it is?  I might
as well live there -- I know more about what goes on there than YOU do!"

	"You do not!" Sharon screeched.

	"Don't I?"  Armand got up and went to a cabinet, where literally
hundreds of DVDs were racked.  "Let's look at, say, Tuesday afternoon, shall
we?"  He popped the DVD into a deck in a wall unit and a large screen on the
wall came to life.  Sharon recognized the screen menuing system and got a
chill -- this didn't mean...?

	It did.  Sharon was treated to a number of quick flashes of scenes
in virtually every room in her house as Armand settled upon a timeframe --
in her bedroom.  She watched herself settle on her bed, then Armand began
fast-forwarding until her hand sneaked into the crotch of her culottes.  One
thing was VERY clear -- there had been no requirement to open the shades to
get Armand's people to see what she was doing!  There were three different
views in her bedroom alone, and NONE of them came through a window!  "Oh...
My... God..."  Armand slowed things down to 2:1 while Sharon's hands crawled
all over her chest and crotch, unseating her bra and tossing her culottes
across the room, shredding her panties so she could stick three fingers in
her pulsing vaginal opening...  Resolution was incredible -- she actually
saw the fluids splash out when she ejaculated...

	Armand chuckled.  "I'd thought you were capable of that, but never
obtained much in the way of evidence..."

	"Y-you PERVERT!"  The humiliation was absolutely incredible.  Worse
was the fact that it went on and on, through her efforts at recovery -- re-
making her bed with new linens...  The cameras even followed her into the
shower!

	"AS I said," Armand chuckled.  "You only THOUGHT you were living
alone..."  He began flipping again, and action centered on Nate and Nora --
first, quiet study in her room, then Nora leading Nate into Sharon's bedroom
to dig in the toy box.  The listened to Nate and Nora's conversation over
whether they should do a viewing, then Armand picked up the speed as they
settled in and began watching in Nora's room.  No wonder they'd fucked like
bunnies!  And it was all there, on video -- every stroke!  Including Nate
swatting Nora on the ass and sticking his thumb in her rectum!  Ohmigod!
Sharon was overcome -- she was angry, humiliated -- and, worse, aroused...
"As you can see," Armand pointed out, "Nate is a considerate if inventive
lover..."

	"I suppose you have their first time on video?"  Sharon worked hard
at scorn; shock made it hard work.

	"Yes.  It's a bit poor, mostly infra-red, since the Porter residence
isn't properly wired..."

	"My God, you're an INCREDIBLE voyeur!"

	"The intent was to keep an eye on you.  I capture quite a bit of the
mundane..." Armand replied.  "I couldn't be there, directly, so..."  He
steepled his fingers.  "Didn't you ever wonder why things always managed to
appear when they had to?"

	"And when things got rough?" Sharon queried, but then answered it
herself, "You were manipulating me!"

	"You're surprised?"

	"I need to leave!"

	"As you wish.  Wench, get your robe and go with her."  The Wench
nodded and rose.  She was pretty clear on what she was to attempt.  "I'll
call for Jorge."  Armand punched the intercom and directed that the driver
meet Sharon at the front door.  "As you can see, any freedom you assumed
that you had was illusory.  You are mine -- you always have been despite
fictions of marital status.  I am merely directing that you return home."

	"Never!"

	"If you push me, I will arrange it so that you change your mind..."
Armand's threat was smooth, silky.

	Sharon knew he would deliver, too, but she could NOT capitulate
under these circumstances.  "You can try!"

	Armand merely nodded, but that was enough; Sharon knew that trouble
was on the horizon.  As he led her to the door, he murmured, "This isn't
going well...  The whole visit has been a botch.  But I will let you know
this:  When you return to me, things will not be as they were before Nora's
birth; I have other draws on my attention, and I realize that you require
time to yourself.  In addition, I obviously have a staff, flawed as they
are, so the demands on you will be much less..."

	"That's all well and good, Armand, but I wouldn't hold my breath --
this visit has been a real eye-opener!  At this moment, I'd have to be an
utter fool to roll over and accept any of YOUR promises!"  They arrived at
the door.  Sharon was feeling a little proud of herself; Armand hadn't
managed to railroad her into ANYTHING, much less sex!  The Wench was coming
up the hall in her hooded cloak, a BDSM Little Red Riding Hood; they'd be
gone in seconds...

	Armand, however, was not going to let her go unscathed.  He pushed
her against the wall, holding her shoulders, and raped her lips.  "You WILL
come home to me -- this only ensures that you will be wiser when you do
it..."  He stood back, and nodded to the Wench, who led her to the car.
Sharon spent the next few seconds on automatic, while she damned herself for
not mustering anything effective in the way of resistance to his surprise
attack.  Damn him, anyway!  He had keys to ALL of her doors...  The part of
her that wasn't angry with him had enjoyed it and allowed it to feed her
arousal -- and her recognition of that fact was embarrassing.

	The Wench arranged it such that Sharon preceded her into the car,
which gave her a clear shot at the soaking wet patch on the woman's skirt.
Yes, she was her Mistress, all right; best to get used to it.  If they
couldn't be sisters in bondage, they could at least be friends and co-
conspirators...

	Armand watched the limo pull away, sighing.  The visit had been a
fuck-up of global proportions -- nothing about the recovery from it was
going to be easy.  On the other hand, it would CERTAINLY be a challenge...

	"The nerve..."  Sharon started to blow almost immediately, despite
the fact that she was nowhere near safe; pressures were just too high...

	The Wench leaned to the side and began massaging Sharon's shoulders,
startling her. "Are you really surprised?  That WAS Master, after all..."

	Sharon's first inclination was to shrug out of the massage, but it
felt good, and she was incredibly tense...  "I know, but he's exceeded
himself THIS time!  My God!  I mean, really!  The things that go on there!
I'm supposed to move in there, and bring Nora? The place is a-a..."  Sharon
couldn't think of a term.

	"It is Master's home," the Wench soothed, shrugging.  "I'm sure you
realize he has special needs...  I haven't been there long -- maybe six
weeks -- but today -- this week -- has been unusual.  Certainly, Master is
correct in that certain things have leaked out of the playroom..."

	"Playroom!  I haven't even SEEN that!  I can't imagine -- or maybe I
can..."

	"Well, I've been there, and been used there...  Master hasn't had
another, ummm, 'toy', since I have been there, but I'm pretty sure that
usually, the more extreme activity is usually limited to a very few rooms in
the house."

	"Why are you here?" Sharon began to feel suspicion.

	"Because you need to hear the truth, and you need to relax.  Surely
you know that your visit did NOT go as Master planned?"

	"I'm sure you're right, but why should I trust you?"

	"Um.  I think I understand where Master is going, here -- maybe
better than HE does.  You know that the pair of you have a special
relationship, don't you?"

	"Yeah," Sharon rasped.  "Most divorces more or less end things."

	"There is more to it than that," the Wench asserted.  "Master...
entertains himself with his 'toys', but he always comes back to you.  I
think he knows that you can't stand the full force of his personality, but
you provide something basic that he needs..."

	"So I'm supposed to make myself available to him -- take care of his
'needs'?" Sharon spouted.  "What about MY needs?  I'm supposed to move back
in with him and be his slut?  Sometimes?"

	"Ummmm, don't you think it would be smarter if you didn't bear the
brunt of his recreations?" the Wench asked.  "Wouldn't it be better if he
got extreme with others?"

	"Why should I participate at all, for God's sake?"

	The Wench looked at her sadly, "Mistress..."

	"... And stop calling me that!"

	"... You know you enjoy it..."

	"Damn it, Felicia!  I MIGHT enjoy how someone else does it!"

	"Sharon," the Wench tasted the name, "Do you really think you could
respect a man who JUST told you he loved you and had gentle sex with you?"

	"I-I don't know..."  Sharon didn't, either.  She'd never had anyone
but Armand, and had no idea what anyone else might be able to do for her.
"Maybe not.  But I don't see me finding out.  Armand... sees... EVERYTHING!"

	"Well..."  Sharon was right -- but God knew what Master would do
with THAT comment...  "Look, Sharon, you KNOW Master will get his way,
eventually..."

	"Well, maybe.  But after THAT, I can't just roll over...  I
couldn't, anyway, but after TODAY..."

	"Master will do whatever it takes..."

	"Well, it's gonna take quite a bit, this time!"

	The Wench merely shook her head, and kept rubbing Sharon's neck and
shoulders.  At least she was settling down...

	Now that she'd let it out a bit, Sharon really DID relax.  And she
started wondering why she was being worked on...  "Okay, enough!  What are
you trying to accomplish?"

	"I'm trying to calm you down a bit -- it's my job..."

	"Felicia..."  Sharon eyed her sidelong.

	"Well?"  The Wench looked innocent.  "Why ELSE do you think he sent
me?"

	"To spy on me?"

	"He can do that all by himself -- and YOU know it!"

	Sharon blinked.  Nora had SAID the car was wired...  Oh, gawd...
"Dammit!"

	"Shhh, just take it easy..."

	"I'm not saying ANOTHER WORD!" Sharon seethed.

	"Then you might as well let me rub your neck..."

	Sharon eyed her, but she let it happen -- and it DID help...  By the
time the limo arrived home, she'd settled down again.  "You're a good girl
Felicia.  What in the Hell are you doing with Armand?"

	The Wench smiled.  "He understands me.  He understands YOU, too.
Think about that..."  She waved and the limo pulled away.

	Nora looked up as her mother breezed through the door, "So, how did
it go?"

	"He's insane!  He wants us to move in with him!"

	Nora giggled.  "Well..."

	"Honey, that animal Jason raped that woman Inez's ass, right at the
table!  That place is a zoo!"

	"Mom, you know she likes it!  I bet she got off!"

	"Honey!  My God!"

	"Still," Nora added, thoughtfully, "I figured that Jason had more
control -- a LOT more control..."

	"Well, it's MY understanding that he operates with a certain amount
of rage -- and your father decided to tease the animal and then throw him
Inez as a snack!"

	"Hmmm, I can see that.  Still, I'm sure it's unusual..."

	"Does it matter?  It's still... excessive!"

	"Well, that's all Daddy!"

	"Among other things!  This house -- it's wired for sound!"

	"Oh?"  Nora looked uneasy.

	"Yes."  Sharon savored her daughter's expression.  "After he showed
me some highly embarrassing events in MY Tuesday afternoon, he showed me YOU
raiding the toy box and snatching DVDs!  AND what you did while watching
them..."

	"Oops!"

	"Yeah, oops!"  Sharon eyed her daughter askance.  "You seem to be
enjoying Nate..."

	'Omigawd, she's SEEN us!'  "Uuh...  Mom!  What..."

	"Well, that whole episode, although it was speeded up quite a bit.
Nate spanked you?"

	"Well, it wasn't like that, quite, Mom.  Not like Daddy was doing to
YOU!"

	"Well..."  Sharon eyed her daughter.  "The point is, we have NO
privacy here!  NOTHING is sacred!  Not even the shower..."

	"Wow!  That bad, huh?"

	The phone rang.  Sharon picked it up, listened for a moment, and put
it on speaker.  The speaker emitted two words before it went dead: "That
bad."  For a moment, the pair of them just stared at it.

	"Shit!"

	"Honey!"

	"Well, we'll save Daddy a lot of money if we move in with him -- he
won't have to keep snoops on us twenty-four hours a day..."

	"The things he'll expose you to!" Sharon shuddered.

	Nora grinned crookedly.  "That's the point, Mom.  Daddy wants me to
see how the other half lives."

	"Well, THIS is our home!"

	"Apparently, it's his, too."

	"We'll see...  I'm going up to my room and try to find the bugs.
When I'm done, I'll try to do the bathroom and your room.  THAT should fix
his wagon!"

	Nora watched her mother march upstairs, shaking her head and
grinning wryly.  Daddy would do what he would do; if Mom found anything,
he'd no doubt have it replaced in a day or two.  If Mom wanted to feel she'd
accomplished something, fine.  But it was a waste of time, and she probably
knew it.  This was an extension of one of their little office conflicts;
Daddy would give her some line and then proceed to reel her in.  It'd be
easier if she just went upstairs and packed her bags, but that wasn't Mom's
way -- or Daddy's, either.  Ah, well...

	Still, it changed things.  Nora went upstairs to do homework and
couldn't help glancing around, wondering where the cameras were.  Her room
was suddenly a somewhat alien place...  After a bit, she grimaced; okay,
they were just a bit ahead of reality TV, apparently.  No big thing.  When
it got right down to it, if Daddy had already seen everything -- including
her having sex with Nate -- there wasn't any particular reason to modify her
behavior...

	Sharon felt differently -- VASTLY differently.  Armand had invaded
her personal space!  He was a pervert, a voyeur, and she wasn't going to put
up with it if she absolutely didn't HAVE to!  She went to the little toolbox
the family kept and extracted some pliers and a screwdriver, a hammer and a
couple of nails, then sat on her bed, remembering the angles in the video
she'd seen, looking around the walls.  There?  What was that?  She pounced
on an innocuous-looking paint void in the corner of her room...

	Armand, watching via camera sets that had not been revealed in the
video, chuckled.  If Sharon was VERY lucky, she might find a fiber-optic
lens; more likely, however, was a lot of gratuitous damage to various parts
of her room without any real effect.  But this was vintage Sharon -- a true
test of wills -- and he was going to enjoy it to the hilt...

	The next two hours saw a lot of banging around as Sharon,
frustrated, hunted for the eyes of her tormentor.  When doing violence to
this and that accomplished nothing but a couple of spectacular holes in her
walls, she settled for applying toothpaste or chewing gum to every visible
gap in the continuity of her bedroom walls.  She actually managed to cover
the infra-red port by accident, and scratched the lens of a favorite camera,
but in general, visibility in her room was only mildly impaired.  When she
moved to the bathroom, she had a fine case of frustration going; Armand
grinned hugely over his afternoon tea as she entered the shower stall and
began measuring inches and angles, based upon views of her breasts it had
afforded during his demonstration of her surveillance.  Watching her hold
her breasts and try to draw lines and angles -- priceless.  She chipped away
the grout below a whole row of tiles without finding anything (she was one
row off), then realized that she was compromising the integrity of the
shower.  "Damn you, Armand!"  She stamped her foot in frustration, then went
down to the storage room off the kitchen to locate a tube of caulk.  When
she got back upstairs, Nora was standing there.  "Can I use the bathroom?"

	"Might as well -- he's seen everything you've got -- in action!"

	Nora didn't let the comment rattle her too much.  "Accomplishing
anything?"

	"Not in here, but I think my room's pretty tight."

	Nora stepped over to her mother's door and looked in.  The paint job
appeared to have white leopard spots, and there were bumps everywhere.
"I've decided to live with the cameras.  It'll be something like 'Big
Brother'.  Besides, I don't think I can deal with the room remodel..."  She
went into the bathroom and settled on the toilet.  Sharon closed the door;
at least Nora had privacy from HER...

	Sharon returned to her room and sat there, thinking about it.  She'd
meant for him to see her masturbating, to keep him from going through with
one of his insane threats -- but not like the way he'd actually done it!  My
God!  The total lack of privacy the video implied...  The man had probably
watched her dress and undress every day for God knew how long!  But the
WORST thing -- the absolute WORST -- was the fact that he'd introduced her
to masturbation in a serious way, and now she couldn't DO it...  The
luncheon had fired Sharon up something awful; her pussy itched constantly,
and concentrating on obliterating surveillance devices somehow hadn't helped
-- probably due to the fact that the memory of her exposure was always in
the forefront of her detection process.

	Well, she should be reasonably safe; she hoped that she frustrated
the voyeuristic bastard, at this point.  She went to the toy box and
collected the small vibe, shucked out of her dress, then climbed into bed,
under the covers, and proceeded to undress the rest of the way there...

	Armand, watching from two cameras embedded in the headboard of the
bed, chuckled.  Hitting the intercom, he roared, "Wench!  Get in here!"

	"Yes, Master!  Where, Master?"

	"The Media Room.  Hurry!"

	Moments later, the Wench came boiling in, skidding to a stop before
Armand and dropping on her knees.  "Master?"

	"Since you insist that Sharon is mistress in this house, you should
educate yourself in how to please her.  Kneel up before me; I may decide to
use you during this..."

	"Why is she playing beneath the blankets, Master?"

	Armand chuckled.  "She just spent an hour and a half trying to find
surveillance cameras in her room, without much success.  She thinks this
will defeat me."

	"Not the way she's holding the blankets up..."

	Sharon was holding up the blankets with one hand, for two reasons:
she was already uncomfortably warm, and she wanted to see what she was doing
with the vibe.  Heretofore, she hadn't paid much attention to the instrument
or where she was applying it, going by feel.  This time, she wanted to see,
since she wasn't watching a video, exactly what felt good.  The vibrator, a
small item with three brass balls in the tip, rolled easily over flesh
fevered by the day's events; she worked it along the outside areas first,
avoiding her inner labia while she discovered what less-than-direct
stimulation felt like.  Even that was okay, but closer work, ooooohhhh, was
better...  Damned blankets were SOOOO hot, but Armand wasn't going to see
this, the bastard!  He could hear it, though, if he had the equipment -- she
hoped he got all frustrated and made the Wench fuck him!  She surged up and
tossed the blankets, retaining the sheet -- that should be good enough...
Nope, there just isn't enough air in here...

	Frustrated, Sharon reached under her pillow and grabbed her nightie
and struggled into it, then slid out of bed.  This was insane...  Her bed
was a four-poster, so she had uprights...  Yeah, that would work!  It would
look stupid, like she was a twelve year old, playing tents and forts in bed,
but...  Dashing across the hall, she asked Nora, "Honey, do you have any of
those metal binder clips?  The spring type?"

	Nora looked up, puzzled.  "Only the big ones..."

	"Good!  The bigger, the better!  Where?"

	"In the drawer..."  Why was Mom in her nightie?  Nora opened her
mouth, thought better of it, and shut up, and her mother snatched a couple
of the spring clips from her drawer and let herself out of the room.

	Next, to the front closet, where the skates were stored...  Sharon
pulled the laces out of an old pair, and headed back up the stair.  Back in
her room, she tied off he clips to the bedposts with the laces, then clipped
the top sheet, making a primitive lean-to.  Armand's rumbling chuckle broke
out as she slid under it and began removing her nightie.

	"Master?  I don't get it!"

	"Well, there are three or four reasons for mirth," Armand related.
"First, this is an attempt to defeat surveillance.  Second," Armand paused
while Sharon turned on the vibrator and began applying it to her nether
lips, eliciting a low moan.  They had a fine view over her shoulder, from
the headboard, which Armand split-screened with a right side view that the
sheet obscured not at all -- particularly when Sharon spread her knees,
poking it up further!  Sharon moaned again.  "Second," Armand reiterated,
"she's thumbing her nose at us by making noises when she's sure we can't see
anything.  But the biggest issue here -- and one that she's blind to -- is
that she just HAS to masturbate!  This is the 'new' Sharon in action!  The
one who has finally admitted that she enjoys sex!  Now what do you think
she's fantasizing about?"

	The Wench might have been surprised.  Sharon was aware that if she'd
allowed it, the Wench would have had sex with her in the limo.  Given that
she was steaming hot between the legs and she had clear, recent memories of
the Wench's tongue, fantasizing being serviced was easy...  Armand might be
able to see her, usually, but he couldn't read her mind...  The vibe slowly
zeroed in on her clit while she worked a finger into her sopping opening,
moaning.  She didn't care about making noise, as long as Armand couldn't
see...

	In her mind's eye, the Wench's hands drifted from her neck down her
back, then slid under her arms to fondle her breasts, (she withdrew her
finger from her soaking opening and brought it up to work a nipple).
Slowly, she reoriented Sharon on the seat so that her pussy was available
and lowered her lips to it...  Sharon moaned again as the vibe rolled over
her clit and her finger slid again into her depths.

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

	Nora heard the noises and got up quietly to see what was going on.
It sounded like the noise was coming from Mom's room...  She crept to the
door and listened, detecting another moan, then slowly turned the knob...

	She was almost unable to quash the snicker that the sight she beheld
generated!  Mom had made a tent of the bed sheet, and was slowly undulating
on the bed, hidden by it!  Unbelievable!  Nora could see her mother's knees
poking up through the sheet, rocking back and forth as she worked herself
up.  'Well, go, Mom!' Nora thought to herself; this was the first time she'd
ever actually caught her doing anything like this.  After a fashion, it was
vindication -- Mom had drives, too, after all!  She watched for a few
moments, then decided that her mother could do without any further
embarrassment, and quietly re-closed the door.

	Sharon was well along; the Wench's soft tongue delving into Sharon's
sex while her thumb worked her clitoris was the fantasy that brought her
rushing to the edge.  In a moment, the dam burst, and Sharon, her jaws
locked tight, grunted, "Hrrrgh, hrrrgh hrrgh!" as her release poured over
her.  Once wasn't enough; before she came down good, the vibe was demanding
that she attempt a second pass, her clitoris buzzing and pulsing to its
vibrations.  Only when she'd squealed out a second orgasm, did sanity
return.

	But return it did, with embarrassing coldness.  Sharon was sweaty,
the bed was damp, and she'd made this silly tent-thing -- Why had it been so
godawful important?  And what had Armand seen?  Did the thing work?  Why did
it matter, except for the small victory that it might represent?  And why on
Earth did she just HAVE to masturbate?  Gawd!  What was she turning into?
She wanted a shower -- bad -- to wash off the sex sweat, but Armand could
see everything!  One thing was certain; the place wasn't anything resembling
a safe-haven -- if it ever had been.  How long could she put up with this?
And, even if she acquiesced, would it get any better?  She fought her way
back into the nightie and got up, collecting a robe, her head a comical
sight as she peeped, prairie-dog style, over the sheet before getting up.
Turning from the closet, she gathered herself, and with at least the
appearance of dignity, entered the bathroom to take a shower.  Perhaps if
she faced away from the wall...

	Armand chuckled.  What exactly would he do about this?  Obviously,
she'd have to be apprised of the fact that she'd failed...  He granted her
peace in the shower -- or at least from his direct observation.  The
surveillance team would catch it all...  "Phone."

	The Wench leaped for it, and was back in a flash.  "Swallow my
cock," Armand directed, while he hit the speed dial.

	"Hello?" Nora answered her cell phone.

	"Quite the show, wasn't it?  You should have seen it from MY angle!"
her father's voice sounded in her ear.

	Nora giggled, then sobered.  "Daddy, do you see EVERYTHING?"

	"Somebody does.  I get the highlights, at least.  You should use
more pillows when you read like that -- you'll break your neck!"  Nora
rolled her eyes, and Armand chuckled, "I saw that!"

	"Why?"

	"It was the next best thing to being there."

	"Will it be the same at your house?"

	"Well, the facilities exist, but I might be persuaded to use them
less..."

	"Was Mom successful at all?"

	"No.  I could count her pubic hairs."

	"What about me?"

	"My interest in you is purely parental, child.  Certainly, I've seen
perhaps more of you than a father should, but it isn't an exercise in lust,
like it is becoming with your mother."

	"Becoming?"

	"Only recently has she even dared to touch herself sexually.  Today
was quite a breakthrough -- and she's now embarrassed about it.  For the
past decade or more, she has only been a sexual being in my presence; now,
that's changing, and I'm remembering why I took her and married her in the
first place.  She will be returning to me, whether she likes it or not."
Armand paused.  "In aid of that, things are going to become more and more
interesting for your mother.  Some comments she made in the limo solidified
some plans I have to broaden her base of experience.  I think," he cleared
his throat, "I think you should plan to take in a movie with Mr. Adams
tomorrow afternoon."

	"Ummmm.  You're not going to hurt her, are you, Daddy?"

	"No, not really.  Not in any lasting manner, anyway.  But there will
be some... excitement... and her level of sexual experience is going to take
another leap.  At the same time, her perception of that house as a safe
haven is going to take a serious hit...  Contact your boyfriend and make a
date; I will see to it that you have funds to defray your costs."  The line
went dead.

	Nora grimaced and closed her phone.  'He can certainly be abrupt,'
she thought to herself, then remembered the level of surveillance.  She
didn't need the phone to talk to HIM!  "Yes, Daddy."  She called Nate.