Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 21
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: mmf tort MF
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 21
Friday's Aftermath and Party Preparations
Mary Nally was lolling in bed, Teddy on one side and Stick on her
other. Both boys were in recovery; after a none-too-exciting breakfast of
cereal, sweet buns, and coffee, she'd demanded equal time from Stick,
kneeling up and taking his long shaft doggy-style in the bed. And she'd
been deliberately loud about it -- so loud that Stick had waved Teddy over
from where he was watching and tugging that fireplug cock of his and told
him, "Put that thing in her mouth an' see if you can get her to pipe down!"
Stick knew what was going on, but DAMN! He didn't want her Mama freaking
out and going after them all with a knife or a gun or something! She was a
BIG bitch, an' might get through his guard, especially if he was tryin' to
protect Mary or Ted...
Mary had cum twice before Stick flooded her womb -- he was right
there, after all, his length being what it was -- and Teddy had poured a
load of HIS spunk out in her mouth. It was a damned good time, and she was
looking forward to more of them. Speaking of which... "Teddy, why don't
you call Jimmy or Randall and see how last night went?"
"Okay." Teddy was generally docile, but with his balls emptied, he
was positively loose. Stick watched him sidelong as Mary first directed him
not to use his cell, but to get her portable, then put it on speaker. 'Boy
needs someone around to keep him from bein' run right over,' he ruminated to
himself.
"Hullo?" the phone spouted.
"Jimmy? Teddy. Hey, how did the Astronomy Club orgy go?"
"I'm thinking pretty well, even if the other two couldn't seem to
figure out what they were to each other this morning," Jimmy replied.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"I mean they fucked like minks in the dark last night, having a
helluva time, but this morning, they couldn't seem to get comfortable. Both
of 'em were, like, trying to turn back the clock, or something..."
"Really? That's weird..." Mary announced herself.
"Mary?"
"Yeah, you're on speaker, but there ain't nobody here but us
chickens..." Mary glanced at Stick, who merely grinned. What they didn't
know...
"Well," Teddy hazarded, "Neither of them has ever dated. Boyfriend-
girlfriend stuff is probably pretty new..."
"They're both in the brain trust, too," Mary added thoughtfully.
They know the difference between just sex and a relationship, even if
they've only scored one, to date..."
"Ummm, yeah, that's it, I think," Jimmy replied. "Sex went well,
but they're both suspicious of their feelings..."
"Well, just because it hasn't worked yet doesn't mean it won't --
give 'em time," Mary grunted. Jimmy hadn't had that problem with Amy; in
the first place, he'd been smitten with her, anyway, and in the second, Amy
went into the relationship looking for permanence, not a one-nighter.
Randall and Darla Jean, however, were largely looking for a way to scratch
their individual itches; add the fact that they were both too smart for
their own good, and you got a rather strange post-sexual trauma...
"Well, we accomplished what we set out to do -- Teddy was free to
party, and Randall and Darla Jean got laid. Nobody bats a thousand..."
Jimmy posited. They talked a few moments more about this and that and hung
up.
Mary eyed Teddy. "I suppose I'm gonna have to bunk down in that
cave sometime..." Teddy nodded, and Mary continued, "Although what the
Astronomy Club will think of Stick..." Teddy slapped his forehead and
swiped his hand down his face while Stick laughed. What a mess THAT would
be!
The boys cleared out soon after; both lingered long enough to take a
shower, Stick for the luxury of it, and Teddy because if she smelled sex on
him, his mother would freak... Mary showered after, then wandered
downstairs, well pleased with herself. Her mother glared at her, but Pop
had her sit at the table. "Hon, there's trouble on the horizon."
"Why?"
"Those two are going to hit a wall somewhere and out themselves;
even with you helping them, they're just too different. Without a clear
reason, neither of their groups of friends is going to accept the other, and
something as simple as a look will blow the whole thing wide open. The
light will come on in someone's head, and they won't NEED evidence. What
are you going to do then?"
"I dunno, Pop. What will it change?"
"Depends. Teddy's friends would probably roll over, but Stick's?
And no amount of denial will help him..."
"What should I do? Bust it up?"
"You can protect Stick by choosing him -- everything would return to
normal and die down. But all three of you convinced me this morning that
you have something else cooking. When the time comes, it won't be Teddy
that needs support -- it'll be Stick, and he'll need it BAD. There are a
lot of gay black men, but it goes against the image that straight black
males want fostered -- that their sexuality will bring them eventual
superiority over whites -- and he will be shunned, ostracized, unless he has
some seriously fine friends. Even then, the average member of his peer
group won't want anything to do with him. If that happens, the two of you
will have to step up to the plate and take over the bulk of his attention
and social interaction. The two of you could well end up being his whole
world for a time; you and Teddy need to plan for it, or plan to sweep this
whole thing under the rug. It's your call."
"Wow." Mary was floored. "How long do you figure we've got?"
"I don't know. Stick is already assuming the role as Teddy's
protector -- he could find himself in an untenable position any day."
"Well, the whole thing is simple!" Irma announced, "You don't want
that b--..." She shut up; father and daughter were presenting a united
front -- glaring at her.
Arthur, returning his attention to his daughter, asked, "Where do
YOU think they are?"
Mary sighed. "Teddy is at least bi, and could drift to gay if he
has no reason not to. That's where he was headed until Prom night. He's
discovered that he likes girls, but I don't know how deep it is. He's VERY
submissive, probably what some people call a bottom. Heck, he might even go
TV..."
"TV?" Irma blurted. "Television?"
"Transvestite," Arthur amplified. "He might decide he's a woman in
a man's body." Irma rolled her eyes and slapped her forehead. Arthur just
gazed at her. The woman was eminently practical in most frames of
reference, but she was absolutely horrid where this subject was concerned.
Given the way things were shaping up for Mary, that could be the worst
possible thing... "And Stick?"
"Stick just likes sex. He would make it on a straight diet of
heterosexual sex, but he doesn't have any problem getting it from a guy --
especially if the guy is a bottom, like Teddy!" She chuckled. "Apparently,
he made some comment about dressing Teddy up as a girl at their first
meeting..."
"Really?" Irma was aghast.
"Well, they didn't really SEE one another, I guess..."
"What?"
"Irma," Arthur interjected, "have you ever heard of a glory hole?"
"Well, yes, but I don't really know what one is..."
Arthur sighed. He wasn't sure he wanted to proceed with this bit of
education; if Irma put two and two together... Ah, well... "A glory hole
is a way to obtain anonymous sex. It's a hole in a partition, usually in a
public bathroom. A male sticks his penis through the hole and gets either a
blowjob, or possibly vaginal or anal sex, depending upon who is on the other
side and what their wants or needs are. You don't see the person because
you're working through a small hole..."
"Oh, my!" Irma was shocked. "That sounds... dangerous!"
"Well, it undoubtedly isn't safe, given the spread of HIV. It's
generally believed that HIV can't be passed by a blowjob, so the vast
majority of participants are safe -- but that's merely supposition..."
Irma gathered herself, "So either one of these boys..."
Arthur cut her off. "Both are young and inexperienced, and indicate
that their only partners have been each other and Mary."
"Either of them could be lying..."
"If that were true, I'd bet on it being Teddy..." Arthur posited.
That wasn't what Irma wanted to hear; you could tell by the look on
her face. Mary opened up with, "I don't think Teddy has much experience at
all, except in giving blowjobs -- even then, it wouldn't be many. I don't
think he has anything...
"If he does, you're ALL in trouble," Arthur noted, "but I agree with
you; I imagine Teddy's experience would be limited and anecdotal. We can
always get him tested..."
"What about the black boy?" Irma demanded.
Arthur and Mary exchanged glances. "Stick wouldn't normally be
exposed to homosexual activity; he may have had a girl..." Arthur began.
Mary shook her head no. "Stick admitted to a couple of blowjobs by
Beulah Tyrone, who trolls worse than I do -- but when he came out of the
Men's Room that night, homosexual sex was a new idea with him. Neither of
them had ever had a girl, the right way -- or even come close. If Beulah
didn't give Stick anything, and Teddy didn't, he's clean."
"So you're telling me that the black boy is your best choice?"
Queers, blacks -- what was the world coming to? Irma was radically unhappy.
"No, Mother -- my BEST choice is to keep them BOTH!"
"You CAN'T DO THAT!" Irma screeched.
"Well, there might be a way or two. Nothing perfectly legal, of
course..." Arthur remarked.
"How?" Irma glared.
"She marries one... The other is, oh, an employee, or a permanent
houseguest..."
"This is just... insane!" Irma shook her head. "Which one?"
Arthur's smile told her she wouldn't like the answer. "Stick.
Teddy occupies a subordinate position." Mary nodded, musing.
"But I don't WANT any little black sambos!" Irma wailed.
"Mother," Mary ranted, "If and when I have children, I'LL pick the
father! Besides, probably only half of them will be mixed..."
"Oh, Lord!" Irma got up and walked out. Mary was DETERMINED to be
a slut for a couple of... queers! It all made no sense; she refused to have
anything to do with it!
Arthur watched her go, shaking his head. "This will take a while --
maybe longer than you've got..."
"I'll talk to them, remind them to be careful and not go too far
covering for one another. And I'll talk to Teddy and try to get him to
understand... Right now, he probably figures he's the only one with a
problem..."
Arthur nodded. "The three of you have to be SURE, because you'll
ALL be tested. This isn't a perfect world..."
"I know, Pop." Mary got up and headed for the door, then stopped
and turned. "Pop? You know too much."
Arthur hung his head. "Yeah. Not here, okay?"
"Okay." Mary headed upstairs.
--------------------
Darla Jean felt wonderful -- but she wasn't sure what she wanted to
do about it. Sex with Randall had been all it was cracked up to be, and
more -- but whether that implied anything about Randall was an open
question. Randall seemed to feel the same way; certainly, he'd been nice
enough, and hadn't made like an asshole, but he hadn't exactly pressed her
for a relationship, either. Was that okay? She couldn't decide. These
days, what they had done, treated the way they seemed to be treating it
(recreational sex), made her some kind of slut; HIV had pushed everyone back
up the slope toward monogamy and morality popular three or four decades ago
-- maybe five! The current rule of thumb was 'Don't fuck a boy unless you
plan to press for a relationship -- or already have one.' ONLY STD's
allowed that kind of gold digging to make any sense in Darla Jean's mind --
why sell yourself a pig in a poke? That seemed REALLY stupid... The RIGHT
way to do it, in her mind, was to experience SEVERAL men, and then make a
reasoned selection based upon their individual merits, which might or might
not include their sexual prowess. Randall actually had several things going
for him, even without sex; if it turned out that he REALLY WAS a stud, he'd
be a catch. But Darla Jean had NO IDEA whether Randall really WAS a stud or
not... For now, she merely basked in the glow of her new womanhood. Next
time, she'd use some kind of birth control; playing the lottery like they
had done was out of character for BOTH of them, and it told Darla Jean that
there were powerful forces at work -- as if she didn't know that already.
Oh well, no harm done...
--------------------
Darla Jean was the hottest REAL piece of ass Randall had ever heard
of, never mind HAD -- but she was the ONLY piece he'd ever had, and that
wasn't anything resembling a statistical sample. Jimmy seemed to agree that
she was a wild woman, from the noises they'd made and Randall's description
of their encounter, but what did it all mean? Did he have a 'magic wand' or
was she 'just' firecracker hot? One thing he DIDN'T believe was that they
were 'normal' -- he'd heard too many tales of 'dead' lays and guys who got
off too quick. If they were normal, it was the high end of the range...
Darla Jean had good sense (usually) and made a good lab partner; she tended
to be level-headed and didn't jump to conclusions based on a too-small
dataset. All this was highly admirable -- but did he love her? Based on a
couple of bouts of hot sex? Randall shied away from such foolishness. Only
an idiot would make such a leap! If Darla Jean wanted to date, well fine.
But undying affection? Uh uh. Commitment wasn't something you hopped into
like that.
All of which brought Randall back to what he considered the major
fuck-up that they'd committed last night -- they hadn't used birth control!
This just didn't sound like Darla Jean! Fool that he was, he allowed
himself to get swept up in the whole thing, but he'd tried -- and she'd
vetoed it! Now that just wasn't smart! Was this an entrapment technique?
It made little sense, otherwise; sure, doing it the first time with a rubber
would have sucked, but it would have been the safe thing to do -- and Darla
Jean was NOTHING if not safe and sane, normally...
But she'd been cool and there had been no mention of any going
together -- if she was going to reel him in, she was being pretty coy about
it...
Each of them took home the knowledge of their newfound sexuality,
dealing with it separately.
--------------------
Saturday afternoon rolled into Saturday night pretty quietly. Nate,
anticipating having Nora in his home at some time in the next forty-eight
hours, was feverishly trying to clean the place, something that Tabitha was
getting some wry humor from as she strode out the door to go to work. The
good news was that this had been a pretty good week, and Friday night had
started a pretty good weekend, so she was looking forward to an after-hours
party at a club downtown where the good stuff tended to flow fairly cheaply.
She didn't really LIKE a couple of the jerks that ran the place, but she
didn't like some johns, either, and that didn't keep her from spreading her
legs... Good shit was good shit, so if she had to make nice to have a good
time, fuck it. Nate would probably prefer that she didn't puke all over the
house tomorrow, anyway -- shit, he was in the BATHROOM, cleaning!
Nate watched his Mama hit the street with some relief; she seemed
not to have the ass, and she'd mumbled something about a party. Usually,
partying into Sunday morning meant she'd be comin' down Sunday night and be
fairly stable on Monday, which was cool. Eventually, Nora would see her
either fucked up or suffering, but if the first meet came while she was in
pretty good shape, it'd no doubt help. In the meantime, he got some peace
and quiet and a chance to clean out the trash... Nora had called about
going to the movies, Sunday afternoon; she said something about her Daddy
footing the bill. Was that usual? Nate didn't know. Didn't feel right,
though... Nora said something about her Daddy saying it would be convenient
for her to be out during that period -- Nate guessed that changed things...
He'd push out his homework, so that if Nora wanted him to hang around (his
mind shied away from alternative expressions like 'needed a little service'
or 'wanted a sperm injection' -- shit like that could lose you your woman if
the wrong ears got a hold of it), he'd be able to. Somehow, somewhere, Nate
was gonna have to find a way to bring in some money to take out his rich
girlfriend on; money, in and of itself, might break their relationship,
instead of the more obvious problem of race.
--------------------
Draper was home, keeping his head down. His brothers hadn't really
noticed that he was out with anyone, so he was avoiding being ribbed. The
flip side was that he was recovering from a day at the Porter's, which had
seriously challenged him. Tenisha's Daddy wasn't thrilled about him doin'
Tenisha at home -- although her Mama, who seemed to have things mostly in
hand, said it was a lot better than anything else they were gonna put
together -- and she'd been pretty clear about it. Tenisha's little brother,
on the other hand, seemed Hell-bent to embarrass the shit out of Draper, and
did a pretty good fuckin' job...
Bess summed it up after Draper left: "Big as he is, that boy ain't any
too brave. If you're gonna keep him, 'Nisha, the rest of us are gonna have
to lay off!" This last was accompanied by a roundhouse glare at the male
half of the Porter clan. "Is there anywhere else you two can get any
privacy?" Tenisha shook her head sadly. "Then we'll just have to make sure
he understands that he's welcome. Right 'Lonzo?"
"Oh, all right," Alonzo grumbled, looking away.
"And YOU, young man! We're ALL AWARE of what's going on! We don't
need YOU to tell us!"
"Yes'm." When Momma got going, you didn't make yourself a target.
Butter wouldn't melt in Jimmy's mouth, if you believed his expression...
--------------------
Armand and Jason had a looooong talk about the incident at lunch;
Jason left the interview very clear on the fact that Armand believed that he
had a useable chink in Jason's armor. But Armand's last words to him were,
"I don't know whether to be really angry, or thank you for the entertainment
she's giving me. We'll see how long and how hard she fights... Speaking of
which, she needs an object lesson. Get on the horn to Witherspoon -- I'm
going to need a couple of his people. And send Ed to me..."
"You sent for me, Sir?" Ed entered Armand's study carefully. The
Boss could go either way; he didn't remember anything he'd screwed up, but
he'd been thinking about finding a way to tap Inez...
"I want to send you over to my ex-wife's house tomorrow," Armand
announced. "She tore up a couple of rooms, looking for surveillance
equipment; I want you to fix it."
"Okay."
"I'm going to be sending a couple of men with you to... entertain
Sharon. I'll be watching, but you'll be my man on the ground, supervising,
making certain that things don't get out of hand."
"Entertain? As in..."
"Fuck." Armand settled back in his chair, eyeing Ed. "Sharon's
sexual experience thus far has been limited to me; recently, she's announced
an interest in broadening it, although it was more academic than anything
else. I want her to move here, so it suits my purposes to have her home
invaded and get the living daylights screwed out of her without her consent.
Do you have a problem with that?"
Ed gave it a moment's thought. "No, Boss."
Armand sat a moment, pensive. "That brings me to you. I'm of two
minds about having you do her. The other two are disposable --
Witherspoon's people -- but you're a member of my household. Eventually,
Sharon will be the uncrowned mistress of this household; if I let you do
her, it could lead to future embarrassment and a requirement that I separate
you from your position here. On the other hand, to keep her from putting on
airs, I may consider the idea of having all of the male staff take a run at
her at some point. You see the issue, I'm sure..."
"Yeah," Ed nodded, frowning. "I could end up fuckin' myself..."
Armand nodded. "On the other hand, it might ultimately be a non-
issue. But I'll be unable to make assurances, even if I grant you
permission. In the worst case, however, there would be no prejudice
involved and I would assist in ensuring that your next posting was a
pleasant and lucrative one." He sat forward. "The other thing would be
that if you DID do her, assuming that it was more than a one-time event
COULD get you into trouble. I'm sure you understand..."
"Yeah," Ed agreed. "She's yours. Doin' her once wouldn't make her
mine..."
Armand nodded. "Just exactly. Like any other female in this house,
her favors are ultimately under MY control. Sharon, in fact, is a special
case, due to our relationship -- for one thing, she's the mother of my
daughter. ANY approach without specific permission from me would end up in
your dismissal with extreme prejudice."
Ed didn't need that spelled out. "Safe thing is to keep my hands
off."
"True. But I'm unwilling to rule out all possibility of contact.
I'd like to see her checked for air-tightness, if all goes well -- which
takes three men."
Ed chuckled at this. "Neat."
"I can send along another resource, or I can use you..."
"Okay, Boss, I'll try not to get stupid."
"If you change your mind, I can probably fill in from Witherspoon's
team, so don't feel obligated. Use the surveillance system to get a look at
the damage she's done. Jump off is at two p.m.; I'm going to have one of
Witherspoon's people cut off the water about one-thirty to give you an
excuse to be there and get things started. Don't forget to turn it back on
before you leave."
"Right."
"Jason will help you get a look at the damage. There's some grout
work in the shower, and she tore up the bedroom walls looking for cameras."
"I'll have to duck 'em?"
"To a certain extent. Take a laptop and Jason can help you to
pinpoint areas where you'll have to be delicate. Normally, there are fiber-
optic lens extenders that can be extruded or retracted, but generally
operate flush with the wall. We'll get Witherspoon's people to poke them
out so you can work around them. Obviously, we'd prefer that they continue
to operate undetected."
"Okay. Anything else?"
"I want Sharon used to exhaustion, but I don't want her damaged. In
fact, I'd prefer that she ultimately enjoy it, but that's probably not
anything you'll have to worry about working at, given her training," Armand
chuckled. "Still, make certain everyone realizes that I don't want her dead
or damaged, merely traumatized a bit. She'll absorb a certain amount of
recreational violence, but they're not to break anything. Ideally, aside
from some red marks from whatever discipline has to be used to keep her in
line and some sore holes, she should be unharmed."
"How far do you want the rough stuff to go?" Ed was a bit worried
over this.
"Witherspoon's men are pros -- they could probably take her without
any serious violence -- but I want her to remember it as a violent episode,
so we'll go beyond that. Slap her around a bit, but no face punching.
Knock the wind out of her a couple of times early on to ensure she's docile
and cooperative. Paddle her ass. I realize you don't spend much time in
the playroom, so I'll provide a couple more hints: breasts can take a lot
of abuse but provide a lot of pain, which makes them a fine target. A
couple of good slaps to the breasts will get just about any woman's
attention. Stay away from the kidneys and such, or anywhere bony --
punching around bones can injure both of you."
Armand paused. "Don't let her get a good look at you; I want a
certain amount of plausible deniability. The others can get face time --
they won't be seen again, anyway. If you have further questions, talk to
Jason or come back to me. I'll be watching via the surveillance system and
recording the incident; once the infrastructure is in place, I'll be able to
relay instructions, but I'd prefer to use IM, not voice. I'll be available
by phone, if necessary. Any questions?"
"Not yet, but..."
"Don't guess; this is a priority mission. Ask me. I'll make myself
available." Armand waved dismissal and Ed backed out. This was the
damnedest deal he'd ever been in on...
The next couple of hours were pretty strange; Jason met Ed in the
Media Room and they went over the surveillance of Sharon's bedroom and bath,
getting an idea of what repairs would be needed. Jason showed Ed the
computers that the others would be using and how to use IM to talk to
Armand, effectively doubling Ed's computer literacy. About halfway through,
Inez came in. Jason glanced up and grunted, "Kneel up, Slut," then
proceeded to demonstrate various bits of violence that left little in the
way of marks but dealt out extreme pain. Presented with an opportunity to
punish Inez for her role in the day's events while the fire of his anger
remained hot, Jason had deliberately gone to extremes, working her over
systematically under the guise of instruction. He'd very thoroughly proven
Armand's statements regarding the punishing of breast flesh true, punching
and slapping them until Inez was fairly gibbering, then stopped her with a
vicious punch that took her breath away. He taught Ed to slap on the cheek,
avoiding the eyes, nose and ears to keep the visible damage to a minimum,
then went from ass work to some other areas that were a lot more tender --
inner thighs, armpits, etc.
Then, when Inez thought the whole episode was thankfully over, he
had Ed demonstrate HIS understanding of the techniques, sometimes correcting
him and having him repeat a particular action. By the end of the session,
Inez could barely crawl, even though she wasn't permanently damaged
anywhere. Oddly, after they'd gone through the entire program, Jason
grinned tightly and recommended, "I wouldn't do most of this to Sharon,
though -- Armand will likely decide that you've gone too far fairly early.
She needs to THINK she's getting her ass whipped, rather than actually
GETTING it done, if you know what I mean..." He spurned Inez with his foot,
"Crawl back to your quarters, Slut -- I'll be there to fuck you in a bit,
and if it isn't good, I'll work you over AGAIN!" Ed shook his head; the
little Mexican cunt took a lot of shit from the boss man! When she'd
dragged herself out of the room, Jason observed, "This should have
demonstrated to you the difference between pain and injury. At worst,
she'll have a few bruises, but we used her body's own warning system to tell
her she was thoroughly broken. There are times when your nerves can be used
against you, and you're better off ignoring them. Remember that -- the
knowledge will stand you in good stead." Ed nodded, and Jason walked out.
After a moment, Ed followed, but first, he composed himself a bit. He'd
never kicked a woman's ass before, and, frankly, he wondered if he was going
to still like the guy he saw in the morning when he shaved after this
incident... Ed ALSO decided to shelve his plans for coaxing a fuck out of
that poor slut Inez, convinced that Jason would make him pay a whole lot
more than it was worth for it if he caught him.
--------------------
Meanwhile, Armand delivered instructions to Witherspoon. "I want
two of your people who are experienced in direct intimidation to work on
Sharon. They don't have to be exceedingly well hung, but they should have a
certain prowess, because I want her used and I want it to last long enough
that she enjoys it. Preferably, one of them should be black."
"Just one?"
"Yes. I'll be sending along my carpenter to do some repairs in her
bedroom. One black is a distraction; two will just point him up, and I want
him not to be recognized, if possible. I'm looking for plausible
deniability -- to be able to claim that a competitor may have done it.
While he's working, I want her thoroughly distracted and entertained -- you
understand."
"Yessir."
"Have someone go in at 1:30 and shut her water off, outside. Once
your people are inside, they can restore it. My man will arrive at about
2:30, and the three of them will pose as plumbers until they're inside the
door, then your people take her and my man goes to work. I'll want it all
on video; have your people take a laptop so we can talk about positions and
angles and such. Have a third agent standing by; I may let my man get a
piece of Sharon, and I may not, but I want a shot of all her holes being
filled, so have your boys pace themselves for that. Use some limited
violence -- I want her subdued and to take some pain, but not visibly marked
or damaged, if possible. You understand?"
"I think so, Sir. Limits?"
"Hmmmm. Taunt her, abuse her, treat her like a whore. Use
deliberate violence until she's pliant and to make sure she remains so. I'm
sure some of your people are aware of some very painful but not too visible
interrogation techniques..."
"Yessir."
"The scenario I'd like to paint is a break-in by a competitor. Your
people can work from there -- interrogate her about things she knows nothing
of, and torture her a bit over her poor answers -- that kind of thing. Make
her wonder whether she's going to survive, if possible. Use her like she's
disposable. I'll want a second team, led by Jason, to arrive just too late
to catch your boys, enhancing the whole idea that it was an invasion. To a
certain extent, therefore, things will need to be carefully choreographed --
understood?"
"Yessir."
"We'll probably not use these people anywhere that Sharon can detect
them ever again; if you need to, bring in outside staff. But YOU are
responsible, and I, through my man on site, have the last word on what's
going on. If things go seriously awry, I'll want your scalp!"
"I understand, Sir. Do you want her gagged or blindfolded, or
anything?"
"Tie her up to whatever extent is consistent with what you're doing
at the time. It'd be nice if she could see the dicks going into her, but
not recognize your people..."
"I have a couple of ideas for that. Some blinders..."
"Good. Some tortures are more effective if the victim can see...
One of my goals for this is for her to see the house as dangerously
untenable, in order to coerce her to move here. She's to feel she's unsafe
there, and to have bad memories..."
"Yessir. I understand."
"Send your people around tomorrow morning at ten for me to
interview."
--------------------
Bianca looked up as her mother staggered through the door, looking
haggard and obviously in pain. "Aiy! Mama! Are you okay?"
Inez, buck naked, staggered over and collapsed in a chair, crying.
"It was terrible! He... beat me! And tortured me like he's never done!
And it was all very... clinical... And THEN he had Señor Ed do the same
thing!"
Bianca looked her mother over. She was shaking like a leaf, but
there didn't seem to be a mark on her... "Where did he hit you?"
"What?" Inez blinked. "Well, these..." She touched her right
breast and winced. "He slapped me, and punched me in the stomach..."
"And he had Mr. Ed do the same thing? Stand up, Mama, let me see if
you need bandages or anything..."
Inez wearily did so. "I think he was teaching Señor Ed. I don't
know why... He was angry, but he was pretending that it was all just a ...
demonstration..."
"Really?" Whatever Mister Jason had done, the vast majority of it
wasn't visible, or wouldn't last the night... Mama had had red marks worse
than this, many times...
"I don't know if I can take this... Maybe we should leave. I could
let your father beat me until he was happy again..."
"Papa would never be happy, Mama. His ego just couldn't stand it."
"We may have to go live on the street, or something..." Inez
obviously wasn't thrilled. Just as obviously, she was contemplating
becoming a prostitute. From the look on her face, she was thinking that it
might end up being Bianca's interim employment, too -- and wasn't thrilled,
to her credit...
Jason walked into the room. Bianca saw him immediately; Inez picked
it up from her eyes. Turning, she detected Jason and dropped to her knees
-- not so much kneeling as having the strength leached out of her legs.
Jason displayed his teeth. "I see that I have penetrated that complacency
of yours and gained your attention."
He strode over to where she knelt and pulled her head to him, just
standing there for a moment, stroking her hair. Anger had departed,
leaving... what? Certainly, there was an emotion there, but he was unable
to identify it. Fondness? Maybe... "You did well in there. I'm... proud
of you."
Inez couldn't see, but the words were more or less unprecedented.
Bianca COULD see, and surprised a look on Jason's face that certainly no one
ELSE had ever seen... He pulled Inez's head back by the hair and said
gruffly, "Go in the other room and kneel up for me -- I'm going to want to
take you. Find some way to protect your breasts; they're going to hurt for
a while. I don't think a bra will do it -- perhaps a really tight top, or
an ace bandage? Bianca, would you assist? Let me know when you're
ready..." He walked over and plopped into a chair.
From Bianca's viewpoint, the man might as well have grown two heads!
Her mother, who hadn't been able to summon courage to examine his face, was
still somewhat in the dark as Bianca pulled her to her feet and hauled her
off toward her bedroom. Jason merely watched them go with a quizzical
expression on his face.
Once in the bedroom, Bianca queried, "Do we HAVE an ace bandage?"
"In the medicine cabinet. No, in the middle drawer of the bathroom
cabinet."
When Bianca returned, her mother was kneeling on the bed on her
hands and knees. "Hold still, Mama." The position made Inez's breasts
pendant, but that was probably better than having to compensate for sag when
she was vertical. The bandage was limited, too -- she only got four and a
half passes while her mother hissed at the pain. "We're not going
anywhere."
"No? I don't think I can do this! He's..."
"Mama, do you like gentle sex?"
"Well, yes. I guess so. Why?"
"Five dollars says Mister Jason is gentle with you."
"What?"
"You heard me, Mama. I learned something about Mister Jason five
minutes ago -- something that even HE doesn't know."
"What?"
"I'm not telling. You'll figure it out." Bianca smiled. "Some
things won't change; Mister Jason is boss, and if you get stupid, he'll
remind you. But I have a feeling it won't matter..." She rubbed her
mother's back a bit, then got up and walked out, passing Jason in the
sitting room. "She's as ready as she'll ever be. The bandage isn't really
big enough..." Jason nodded, rising as she swept out, headed for the
Wench's quarters.
Inez watched with a 'deer in the headlights' expression as Jason
came to stand in the door. The bandage WASN'T big enough -- there was no
way that they were cranked down tight. He sighed, not even wondering why he
gave a damn. "Roll over, we'll go for missionary." Entering the room, he
began divesting himself of his clothing; Inez watched, discovering that he
was almost primly neat about hanging things up. Only his dirty socks and
underwear got left on the floor, and that got tossed into a corner. He
climbed onto the bed and rumbled, "Lift and spread. When I'm in, I'll take
over holding them up so you can stabilize your breasts." Inez did as she
was told, watching him warily. What was going on? What kind of mood was he
in? Disgusted?
The answer was 'emotionally drained and resigned'. Jason had been
to the mountaintop several times in the last few hours and his customary
intensity had left him, burned away with his anger during the recent session
with Inez and Ed. The imperative to establish full dominion over Inez met,
he was suffering from mild pangs of conscience over the brutality of it --
which was pretty amazing, since Jason was NOT known for his conscience...
"Dry, huh?" He started working a finger into her channel, supplementing it
with thumb work on Inez's clit.
Inez was dumbfounded. She couldn't remember Master EVER ministering
to her pleasure, directly. Usually, she just got hers anyway, as a side-
benefit of his pounding attack and the fact that pain and pleasure were both
sensations, which, treated properly, were additive, rather than detracting
from one another. Had Master ever played with her clit? Well, he'd tried
to crush it between his fingers a couple of times while she was in mid-
orgasm, which had paradoxically blown her mind... But play with it? The
nerve junction in question, which, on Inez, could attain a graspable size
when suffused with blood, began to thicken and grow as Jason's thumb worked
it against its hood. Inez felt a wash of lubrication work its way down her
vaginal tunnel from her cervix. She tried to brace herself for the next bit
of violence, but her body began to betray her, "Aiy! Ooohhhh!"
Jason grinned, shrugged, and employed a technique that he was aware
of, but which saw little use -- he leaned down and replaced his thumb's
attack on Inez's clitoris with his tongue. Inez surged as if electrified!
"Aiyeee! Dios Mio!" Her clit immediately sized up to its maximum, and
Jason began drubbing it with his tongue. Inez began to shake; all she could
get out was "OoooOOOOOOooooOOOOOOoooo...." In mere seconds, she stiffened,
arched, and began pulsing, her mouth wide open as she screamed without
sound.
Jason chuckled. "I guess you're ready..." He knelt up and applied
his cock to her still-pulsing opening. Bracing his hands on her shins to
hold her open and spread, he began pushing himself into her in pursuit of
his own orgasm.
Instead of his usual rapacious attack, Jason took it easy, sliding
in and out slowly while Inez recovered. The sensations were different --
perhaps more luxurious than his usual high-speed, friction-based attack. In
fact, things appeared to be rapidly approaching the point where he might cum
soon -- much more quickly than expected. One of the more seductive joys of
Inez was that she basically took care of her own cums; Jason did whatever
the Hell he felt like, and she came, anyway. For what had to be the first
time since they'd been together, Jason wondered if he was going to bring her
another before he got his own...
Frankly, he needn't have worried. Inez was LOVING this! The slow
strokes allowed her to extend the enjoyment that his tongue had supplied her
and begin to rise again...
Instinct took over; Jason wanted something more familiar to bolster
his control. "Hold your breasts!" Inez started experimenting gingerly with
methods to comply with his directive as Jason picked up speed to his normal
rate. Both of them almost sighed in relaxation -- this was familiar,
something they were used to, something that was guaranteed to see them
through to completion. For Jason, things attenuated themselves a bit,
ensuring that he would maintain control while attaining his goal. For Inez,
the shift brought pain from her abused breasts, but it was a dull thing that
was easily added as a layer beneath sharper sensations. The worst of it was
controllable by cradling them between her forearms, and she did so,
supplementing the bandages in their support; the rest, she took in,
accepting it and converting it to pleasure as she would any other abuse
Jason delivered during a sexual episode. If anything, it was less than
usual...
Missionary position wasn't a big one with Jason -- he tended to go
doggie, as it was a bit more humiliating and added the easy option of
switching holes. This wasn't bad, though -- he was getting good depth and
he got to watch Inez's face... That turned out to be big; watching her
increasing excitement, flush, the crazed facial expressions that accompanied
her final approach brought him along more quickly than expected, and when
her eyes rolled up and she began hunching as her orgasm rolled over her,
Jason couldn't hold back his. He managed three more hard strokes, plowing
deep before the blasts began...
Inez felt them; she usually did, as Jason came powerfully. She
added a whine to the strained grunt her tight body allowed her at
completion, riding a new crest before going boneless as the main shockwave
died down. This was just... She found that in her state she didn't have
words; unparalleled might have been good, but it wasn't really in her
vocabulary.
Jason was beat. His arms shook a bit from his position holding
Inez's knees up and spread, and this latest explosion had robbed him of all
of his residual strength. He let go of her shins, shifting to the bed for
support, but his arms weren't going to hold him long... Inez removed this
as a problem by clutching him to her, ignoring the complaints of her abused
breasts while she wrapped her legs around his. Post-orgasmic languor took
hold and they both fell asleep...
--------------------
Bianca and the Wench were talking about the Wench's day. "You
missed Mistress' visit, then?"
"Mistress?" Bianca was confused.
"Well, she's the mother of Master's only child. Frankly, there's a
lot more to it; he compares all of his conquests to her, and I think he's
decided to have her come here to live."
"Why is she elsewhere?"
"They're divorced."
"But..."
"I know. Master is unusual, and apparently Mistress is, too.
Divorce didn't keep Master from entertaining himself with her, regularly,
and she kept coming back... Theoretically, this is because Master won't
allow her to escape, but that's an excuse, I think -- maybe even a
convenience..."
"I don't remember ever hearing of her visiting before..."
The Wench grinned. "That's because she hasn't. But Master is up to
something -- apparently, he's decided that his family should live here,
now."
"But they're divorced!"
The Wench nodded. "I've heard Master's reasons for this, and they
make sense in a weird sort of way -- something to do with this house being a
poor place to raise young children..." She eyed Bianca.
"Well, I've managed..."
"Thus far. And you've had a chance to sit things out, being a
dependent. But Master's child would likely have been in the thick of
things, one way or another, at an early age. Mistress, well, she has always
more or less answered to Master, but her basic standards were more normal.
From what I hear, Master and Mistress were poor when they started out, and
Master had no other outlets; being Master's only toy nearly ruined Mistress.
Now, though, Master has us and his business empire to distract him, and Miss
Nora is grown up to the point that she's having sex..."
"Ummmm. So, is this a custody thing?"
"I don't think so. Actually, I think Master has decided that he
wants Mistress back. Master makes it sound like some kind of grand plan,
but I think the whole thing has been more or less instinct. Mistress,
despite having been married to Master, is somewhat narrow in her experience.
Master, of course, is widely experienced. When things got bad, and Mistress
started getting stressed out, he put her out to keep her from having a
breakdown. But he never let go, totally; he's always had a grip on her.
And you know he employs an army of investigators to keep an eye on them...
I gather that he interfered in her raising of Miss Nora just enough to
ensure she didn't grow up wearing the same rose-colored glasses Mistress
wears, staying mostly out of sight, but making things tough on them
occasionally, one way or another, to keep Mistress in line and to make sure
that Miss Nora didn't think life was a free ride. On the other hand, I'm
sure he's made things appear at the right moment..." Bianca nodded; that
made sense... "Anyway, I think he's decided that now that Miss Nora is
having sex, he can't ruin her too much, and he's tired of messing with toys
when he can have Mistress in the house..."
"What if she doesn't want to put up with all that... crap?"
The Wench laughed. "Do you really think she has a choice? I
GUARANTEE you that Master will find a way to MAKE her move in, whether she
likes it or not! In fact, since today's visit didn't go any too well, I'm
sure he's up to something right now!"
"Oh?" Bianca asked, "What happened?"
"I got there late, but when I did, Jason was using your mother's ass
on the dining room table. Master said that he'd apparently goaded him to
the point that he had to vent himself on her..."
Bianca shook her head. "I just left them. Mama came staggering in
and said Mister Jason had beaten her pretty severely, but she wasn't showing
any marks, really. She was even talking about leaving..." She grinned
tightly. "Then Mister Jason walked in. I don't know... There was this look
on his face... I don't think another beating was coming -- in fact, I think
it was just the opposite. I bet Mama that they were going to have gentle
sex and go to sleep."
The Wench nodded. "Jason wouldn't have been done with her in the
dining room -- he was pretty mad. But it seems like he's hung up on her, so
he probably felt bad, after..."
"Mama said he had Mister Ed beat her, too -- like he was teaching
him..."
"Huh. That's weird. But, Honey, sometimes it's not about leaving
visible marks. A beating is an exercise in dominance. Master is an expert
-- he can cause incredible pain, and not actually injure ANYTHING. How were
her breasts?"
"They were a major target, apparently. Mister Jason had me help
Mama bind them."
"Breasts are a serious target. They really can take an incredible
amount of abuse, but they are sensitive, and can hurt like Hell. It makes
them a perfect place to torture. All someone has to do is squeeze...
That's the only reason I'm glad mine are relatively small -- if I had
breasts the size of your mother's, they'd might as well have big bulls-eyes
painted on them..."
"Oh!"
"Yeah." The Wench eyed Bianca significantly. "Anyway, this display
kind of messed Master's presentation; when he told Mistress that he wanted
her to move back in, she freaked out. I can't really say I blamed her.
Anyway, she told him 'No way!', but I think she knows it isn't going to go
like that. On the other hand, she ALWAYS bucks Master -- which is one of
the reasons he enjoys having her so much..."
"He's going to win? Why? They're not married..."
The Wench eyed Bianca and shook her head. Ah, youth and
innocence... "Marriage has nothing to do with it. Master ALWAYS wins -- or
as near as makes no difference. I'd be willing to bet that Mistress knows
that better than anybody -- she said as much in the car. But it wouldn't be
the same for either of them if she didn't give it the old college try. I
give it about a week, more or less, depending on what Master does to
railroad her into backing down."
"In the car?"
"Yeah. I rode home with her. Master wanted me to help calm her
down a bit. She was all lit up from watching the show, and pissed at Master
for making wild suggestions. I gave her a neck rub. It could have been a
lot more than that, but she's pretty hung up. Still, it's just as well; if
I'd made a move it would have made things worse. She was spitting fire as
it was!" the Wench tittered.
"Well..."
"Yeah, I know -- he's unreasonable. A lot of unreasonable shit goes
down around here -- by now that should be pretty clear. It is what it is.
Actually, it's pretty good preparation for real life; if you go around
expecting everything to be 'fair', you're a sucker and reality is going to
pop you in the mouth a few times until you learn. Apparently, that's what
Master plans to teach Miss Nora." The Wench tittered again at the look on
Bianca's face. "No, no, not like that! Master doesn't do schoolgirls!
Have YOU been messed with, aside from this week?"
"Nooooo..."
"Well, Hon, if Master was into schoolgirls, he'd have tapped YOU a
loooooong time ago! You're HOT!" Bianca blushed and the Wench's grin
showed every tooth in her head.
"Well, how, then?"
"Well, there are plenty of us to act as examples, but I imagine
Master is going to show Nora a bit of the business."
"Oh, okay." That idea was fairly dull, though, so Bianca's mind
drifted a bit. "How long do you think it's going to take before..."
"... Master notices you? In some ways, he already has, but I don't
see him doing anything about it until you're of age, at least."
"Not Mister Armand!"
The Wench laughed. "Sorry, Hon -- I couldn't resist. Pete, maybe?"
Her eyes twinkled. "Well, with your Papa out of the equation, you're a lot
more approachable, but if anyone gets too grabby, Sir and Master would
probably take turns lifting narrow strips of hide off his back. That being
the case, if you want to play with Pete, you'd better be clear about it.
Talk to Sir, or Master -- or even Jason -- about it, first."
"Huh! I can SEE me doing THAT!" Bianca blushed.
"You're just protecting him... Want ME to tell 'em?"
"Uuhhh..."
"Just making the offer..." The Wench shrugged.
"I'll... think... about it." Wouldn't that be a signal that she was
a slut? What doors would THAT open in THIS house? "I'm not sure I'm ready
yet -- I don't want to declare open season..."
"I see your point," the Wench mused, "Still, you don't want anyone
coming down on poor Pete like a ton of bricks because YOU invited him to
bed..."
"Well, if it starts to look like it's gonna happen, I'll try to talk
to Mister Charles -- Mister Armand scares me..." Bianca swallowed. "But if
something happens suddenly, or I just can't do it, will you backstop me?"
"Well, okay, but you know that if you lead him on and then change
your mind at the last minute, you're not gonna get much sympathy in-
house..."
"Well, yeah, but that's pretty stupid anyway. I guess I'll go back
and see what's going on at my place. See you later!"
"Bye bye, Hon."
Bianca needn't have worried; her mother and Mister Jason were
sleeping peacefully, and the way Mama was wrapped around Mister Jason, what
went on before couldn't have been too bad. Bianca retired to her room,
watched a little TV, and dropped off to sleep.
--------------------
Sunday dawned warm, and nowhere near as gloomy as Saturday had been.
Nora gave some thought to the idea of a sun dress, but it wasn't QUITE warm
enough. Sharon started the laundry, and found herself wondering if there
were spy cams in the laundry room (there were -- there wasn't a room in the
house that wasn't covered).
Nate called to tell Nora that he'd taken delivery of a pair of movie
passes and $20 that morning -- someone had slid an envelope under the door.
His Mama wasn't home yet, but that was no real surprise -- many times, she
stayed out all night on a Friday or Saturday night. She'd probably stagger
in later, just coming down. If Big George wanted to come by later and
complain about being paid on time, maybe she'd take pity on him if she was
still feeling mellow. That'd be George's complaint, anyway; if they were on
time, he couldn't come down and get a free piece as a bribe to keep him from
kicking them out. With any luck, Mama wouldn't trash the place when she
came in; diligent work had it looking halfway decent, for once... The pair
settled on a two-o'clock pickup, and Nate hung up.
Mary waited until eleven, then called Teddy. "Hey, Teddy."
"Mary?" Girls didn't call Teddy. Hell, GUYS didn't call Teddy!
"Yeah, it's me. What'cha doing?"
"Not much. Cleaning up breakfast."
"Oh, okay. Am I too early?"
"No, I was looking for an excuse not to do the dishes, yet."
Gee, Teddy was pretty domestic! "So, what did you have?"
"Oh, ham and eggs. Some biscuits. I like biscuits, even if they're
probably bad for you."
"Well, they're probably not as bad as eggs -- or honey-baked ham..."
"Yeah, I guess. I cook Momma the fake ones, so she gets less
cholesterol."
"YOU cooked?" Mary was aghast.
"Yeah. What's the big deal? I don't mind it. Momma's no chef, so
if I want something nice..." Teddy was mildly defensive.
"That's pretty cool! I don't do very well -- I mean, I get by with
simple stuff, but that's it..."
Teddy parked himself in a chair. Momma would frown when she
discovered that the dishes weren't done yet, but only after she came
downstairs. On a Sunday, he might have another hour, if she dawdled over
the breakfast tray he'd brought her... "So, what's up?"
"I think we ought to talk."
That sounded bad. "What about? Or do I want to know?"
"Poppa and I had a long talk yesterday, and there are concerns.
Things we need to look at. Look, you want to do this over the phone, or can
I get you to come over?"
Teddy pondered. If this was what he THOUGHT it was, and she was
kissing him off, he should make her do it in person; the goodbye sex he was
likely to get would have to last a long time, and if he let her do things
over the phone, he wouldn't get it... "Let me try to come by. I'll talk to
Momma and call you back, okay?"
"Sure, no problem. I'll be here."
"Okay. Bye, then."
It didn't take long; Teddy was back in ten minutes or so. "Hi,
Mary."
"Hi."
"How's one o'clock?"
"That's good with me. Want me to chase something down for lunch?"
"Sure, if you want to. We could even bring it forward a bit, then
-- I was factoring it in..."
"Okay."
"Twelve-thirty, then?" Mary needed a shower, among other things.
"Okay, see you then."
Teddy arrived to find sandwich fixings on the coffee table, and a
couple of sodas set out. He still expected the worst, but put a brave face
on it, "Hey, Mary, what's up?"
Mary pouted, "I don't get a kiss?"
Teddy blinked. Was that in the script? "Sure..." He came over to
her and bent down to give her a peck. Mary turned it into more than that,
but didn't go too far. Teddy plopped himself on the couch and Mary waved
toward the food. As he leaned over to start sandwich-making, he asked,
pretending to be off-hand, "So, what's up?"
"Well, we need to talk about 'us'..."
Working hard at continued casualness, Teddy asked, "Which 'us'? You
and me? You and Stick? Or the three of us?"
"The three of us," Mary replied, "although most of the issue is you
and Stick."
"Huh?" Teddy wasn't putting THAT together well. He stopped dead.
"Finish making your sandwich, and when it's ready, I'll go into it."
Mary seemed serious, so he hurried along. When Teddy was ready, she kicked
off with, "I kinda like things the way they're shaping up -- what about
you?"
"Well, yeah," Teddy agreed. "I don't know how long we can keep
people from trying to tear it up, but it's great thus far..."
"Yeah, well, you put your finger on it," Mary announced seriously.
"I'm gonna be brutally frank: There isn't going to be a whole lot of
surprise when you come out of the closet." Teddy sighed, but didn't contend
the point. "Stick, on the other hand, will be in a world of hurt."
"Really?" Teddy thought about it. "Hmmmm, I guess you're right.
So we keep it under wraps for as long as we can, I guess..."
Mary nodded. "I think so. But the problem is, that might not be
too long."
"Why? I'm not going to go around telling anyone..."
"Face it, Teddy. Stick's no idiot, but he doesn't fit in with your
friends. And that probably goes double for you and his. Both of you are
real busy justifying hanging out with each other. How long do you figure
that's gonna last before somebody starts to get an idea what it is that ties
you two together?"
"YOU tie us together! That was the plan all along!"
"Sure," Mary agreed, "but most folks are gonna wonder why being with
me doesn't make you enemies. The big question is still 'Why should you
tolerate one another?' When you get right down to it, there are only a
couple of possible reasons. Poppa figures that the most likely scenario
will be that something will happen and Stick will come to your defense --
and there just won't be any good reason for him to do it, so somebody will
get to thinking... Nobody will have to make an announcement; somebody will
just put two and two together -- and once one person does, it'll spread like
wildfire!"
"Ouch! So what do we do?"
"Well, stay away from one another, for starters. That may mean that
we can't do much in public as a threesome, but it's safer for the pair of
you. If we just don't all three hang out together at school, it's a
start... What's the official tale?"
"It's a friendly competition."
"Well, you're probably better off if it's more competition, and less
friendly. No need for either of you to go out of your way to badmouth each
other -- just don't rush to each other's defense..." Mary mused a bit.
"Stick's already taking up for you quite a bit. While it's sweet of him and
says good things for our relationship, it risks exposure. I'll talk to him
about it." She sighed. "Ultimately, though, it's gonna come out. You'll
catch some shit, but most people won't be surprised. But Stick's gonna lose
friends, and take a lot of shit. When the time comes, we'll need to be
there for him..."
"Yeah, I can see that." Teddy eyed Mary sidelong. "You know, I
figured that this was about you dumping me."
"That'd be the easy way out. If we can afford to ignore what other
people think, we can have a fine time, so why get stupid? If it was just
the two of you competing over me, I'd figure out which of you was the better
deal and make a choice -- but the two of you have your own thing, which
makes making choices unnecessary. In fact, if I were to pick one of you,
it'd complicate things!" Mary shook her head. "Problem is, anyone else who
looks at the whole thing closely will discover the same thing -- that
somewhere, there has to be an added dimension. Once your eyes are open, the
whole thing is hard to miss." She eyed Teddy for a moment. "So if you
thought I was going to break up with you, why did you come over? Why not
just insist that we do it over the phone?"
Teddy blushed. "I figured you'd give me one last shot..."
Mary rubbed his back. "See, Baby? There's hope for you yet!
Nobody who is hopelessly homosexual would come looking for one last fuck..."
She sighed theatrically. "I suppose I'd better reward such behavior,
callous as it is..." She leaned in to kiss him, and her heretofore
unoccupied hand began working on his zipper...