Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 27
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: nosex

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 27
A Death in the Family

	"Security guards at the Waverley Oaks Foods plant surprised a
burglar last night.  In the ensuing altercation, one guard was injured and
the suspect was killed.  Names have been withheld pending notification of
the next of kin of the victim, and the police are following up leads as to
the burglar's origins and the reasons for the break-in."

	"Oh, shit!"  Jacobson put down his coffee cup.  The idiot wasn't
SUPPOSED to get himself KILLED!  Now what?  Sober thought said that with any
luck, Raoul was clean, and there would be no repercussions -- IF the boss
was properly in the know.  He got on the phone.

	"Mr. Kemp?"

	"Jacobson?"  Jason frowned.  "Is this bad news?"

	"I sent Raoul out to hit the Waverley Oaks plant.  He managed to get
himself killed.  How well covered is he?"

	"Fortunately, pretty well.  Since he was a muscle specialist, we
managed to scramble up his fingerprints with a black woman from
Cleveland..."

	"Okay.  He was carrying bogus Staffordshire I.D.  I thought we'd use
him to cover our Waverley mole, and then slide him back to back to Mexico --
but he apparently felt like going head to head with the security guards..."

	"Shit.  I'm gonna have to explain this to his wife and daughter.
Good thing they were planning a divorce...  I'll let the Boss know."

	"Sorry."

	"No, seemed like a good plan.  But I warned you he was an extremely
blunt instrument.  Business as usual, I guess.  Let me know if this starts
to come apart in any way."  Jason rubbed his face.

	"Will do.  We should be fine; he was not around anyone in-house.  If
he's covered, we're good to go."

	"He's covered."  Jason hung up.  Five minutes later, he was in
Armand's office.  "There is a problem.  Raoul managed to get himself
killed."

	"He WHAT?  How?"

	"Jacobson sent him out to waltz through the Waverly Oaks plant to
take the heat off of our mole, but he went nose to nose with security and
got stupid."

	"This is incredibly embarrassing," Armand grunted.

	"Yes."  Jason paused.  "I, uh..."

	"I'll do it.  Let's wait until Bianca returns home from school,"
Armand sighed.  "You may have to take it a little easy on your woman for a
couple of days..."

	"Yes..."

	Armand frowned.  "She'll need structure.  Don't back off too far --
you'll confuse her.  Just don't get any too stupid."  Jason nodded.

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

	Nate had awakened next to Nora -- an amazing occurrence on the face
of it.  Breakfast had been weird; Nora's folks -- both of them -- had
pretended that his being there was the most natural thing in the world...
There'd been scads of food, dragged in by two or three people, but neither
he nor Nora had been THAT hungry.  When they got into Nate's car to go to
school, Nate paused until he got out of the driveway, and murmured, "That
was..."

	"Yeah."  Nora had expected a screaming match with Mom and God knew
what with Daddy -- but they apparently knew all about Nate's staying over
and apparently really didn't care...  A servant had come in to awaken them,
and nobody even blinked when they showed up for breakfast.  Nora was going
to have to talk to somebody -- all that stuff?  A bowl of cereal was fine...

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

	At school, Mary, Stick and Teddy were on the front steps.  Stick was
apologetically relating having used the excuse Teddy suggested the night
before.  "Look, I know it ain't exactly complimentary to either of ya, but
it worked..."

	Teddy shrugged.  "I more or less suggested it; like I said, it's
just close enough to be believable, and it takes advantage of the kind of
crap that people will believe..."  He eyed Mary sidelong.

	Mary pursed her lips.  "So, basically, the tale is that I'm doing
you both?"

	"Yeh."

	"Well, that's true..."

	"I guess the bad part is probably the idea that I'm tellin' you what
to do..." Stick ventured.

	"Honey, you're doing THAT, too..." Mary tittered.

	"Oookayyy, I guess we're good, then..." Stick shrugged.

	Nate and Nora came up.  Nora asked, "What's up?"

	"We're trying out a new tale," Mary replied.

	"Oh?"  Nate blinked. "Why not -- fuck, never mind.  What'd you come
up with?"

	"Ummm, the gist of it?" Stick replied.  "Ted's whipped, and I'm
pimpin' Mary for favors."

	Nate scratched his head.  "What keeps ya from pimpin' her to
somebody else?"

	Stick hit this and bounced -- you could see it in his expression.
But Mary answered.  "Two reasons:  It's a pre-existing relationship --
Stick's just allowing it to continue for his benefit.  And Teddy's no
threat."

	"Uhhh huh.  Well, the good news is that it defines Stick's and
Teddy's relationship," Nora offered.

	"I ain't thrilled 'cause it says things 'bout Ted an' Mary..." Stick
grunted.  "But I already tried it out at home, an' it worked."

	"You know, it also matches the way you guys called it goin' in,"
Nate added.  "An' it gives you a reason to cover Teddy's ass -- 'cause he's
your boy..."  He paused a minute.  "What about Draper?"

	"Draper deserves... the truth."  Stick traced a crack in the
sidewalk with his toe.

	"He can still shit-can you, Man.  And he can fuck you for everybody
else!" Nate pointed out.

	"He's my friend."

	"Awright.  I'll help." Nate offered.

	"Why?  You ain't happy..."

	"I got used to it."  Nate stepped over to Teddy.  "YOU make sure you
keep this shit in the family!"  He whirled his fingers to include Stick and
Mary.  "I hear about you offering to do what you do outside of Stick and
Mary and I'll PERSONALLY arrange for fifteen guys to open up your asshole
for business!  Get me?"

	"O-okay!" Teddy stammered.

	"You hafta do that?" Stick grunted.

	"I was just making a point," Nate replied, nodding warily at Teddy.
"Queer sex is fuckin' dangerous, and I don't want to lose friends."

	"I'm not..." Teddy protested.

	"It's over, Man.  I'm cool if you're cool," Nate cut him off.  Teddy
nodded, subdued.

	Nora was going to call him down, but Nate turned away, obviously
finished.  "Okay.  So.  For public consumption, Teddy has a reason to be
here.  That's important.  Makes things generally easier, too."  Then he
stopped and turned back to Teddy, "You're gonna get shit on, some; other
dudes are gonna try to take advantage of ya.  This'll give Stick an excuse
to watch out for you, 'cause you don't owe nobody else shit -- but you're
gonna be the bottom of the totem pole."

	Teddy shrugged.  "I was never near the top."

	"Yeah, cool."  Nate ruffled Teddy's hair.  Everyone took it for the
acceptance it was.  "If Draper don't shit a brick, you're golden."

	Nora piped up, "There's one problem; if you tell Draper, you're
telling Tenisha."

	"Oh."  Stick looked mildly stricken; a secret that forty people knew
wasn't a secret.  "Gee, I dunno how bad that is."

	"Me either," Mary husked, sharing a glance with Nora, who shrugged.
"Maybe we ought to feel her out, first?"

	"Awright.  Can't take forever, though.  Draper finds out from
somebody other than me..." Stick shook his head.

	"Mary and I will find a way to feel her out and try to get it under
control, okay?" Nora offered.

	"Got no choice," Stick grunted.  "Go for it."

	Nora caught Mary's eye, "Third period."  Mary nodded.  The bell
rang, and the five of them split up.

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

	That morning, Armand took a report from Witherspoon about the
Tabitha Adams incident.  "My two operatives retrieved the video yesterday
and made the copy you got.  A quick interrogation of the bearer yielded the
fact that the individual involved was employed by Pinkham, and that Pinkham
commissioned the video and ordered the attack."

	"What do we know of Pinkham's alliances?"

	"We discussed Pinkham with representatives of the Scarpoletti
family.  He is unaligned; at best, they have mutual interests.  He uses them
as drug suppliers, but not as his sole supplier.  Scarpoletti is
uninterested in prostitution; compared to drugs, the costs of keeping
hookers working and out of jail are excessive.  Rodday can do what he likes
in this area, per Scarpoletti; on the other hand, so can you...  Scarpoletti
got a look at the video and was pretty amazed, but he admires the technique.
When we discussed the conflict of interest, Scarpoletti indicated that if we
wanted to squabble over table manners, as he called it, he would stay out of
it.  We gave him to understand that it was a matter of proper respect for
the property of others..."

	"Are there any other... issues?"

	"No.  Scarpoletti would prefer that Rodday survive, and that there
not be a lot of turmoil -- but his big dream of being king of the pimps is
more trouble than it's worth in Scarpoletti's opinion.  Scarpoletti says
there are no other relevant alliances."

	"Thank you.  I'm sure Ms. Adams won't be surprised...  Anything on
the actual agent?"

	"Scarpoletti's people say that the work is consistent with a
contractor called Dumbjohn.  They have no direct contact; apparently, he
contacts pimps directly for employment.  He's operated in several local
cities; his gift is that he is a wolf in a fine set of sheep's clothing.
Experienced hookers can usually smell a cop or anyone trying to set them up
-- but this Dumbjohn just gives off vibes that say 'sucker'...  He's done
several such 'demonstrations' that local pimps then use to terrorize other
hookers.  Ms. Adams is apparently his most dramatic demonstration to date."

	"I see. Is he worth hunting?"

	"It would be difficult; he's apparently pretty smart and he has his
natural camouflage..."

	"Well, he didn't kill her," Armand grunted.  "Not even close,
actually.  Don't waste a lot of resources, but have someone keep an eye out
for his work."

	"Yessir."

	"Is anyone watching the Adams' apartment?"

	"Nothing serious, since we're following him..."

	"I'm going to put a little heat on Pinkham," Armand mused, "He may
suddenly decide to look for Nate.  We might want to know if that happens..."

	"Good idea, Sir."

	"That's it, then -- except I need an independent investigation of
what went on in KC."

	"Sir?"

	"Sorry.  We lost Raoul during what was supposed to be a diversion at
Waverley.   I need a second look -- if Jacobson needs replacement, I need to
know it."

	"Will do, Sir.  I'll activate the local team."

	"That's it."  Armand hung up, and turned to Jason.  "What did you
tell Jacobson of Raoul's capabilities?"

	Jason frowned.  "I told him that Raoul was a very blunt instrument,
and that he required supervision.  The mission was a fairly straightforward
burglary to take the heat off of our mole at Waverley; Jacobson sent him in
solo, I think.  Raoul was carrying Staffordshire I.D., in case he got
caught.  What happened isn't clear yet."

	"Clarify.  Debrief Jacobson fully.  We have explanations to make."

	"Sir."  Jason glared at the floor a moment.  "I despised the man,
but I did NOT set him up."

	Armand eyed him a moment, then nodded, satisfied.  "All right.  See
what happened.  We may want details from Witherspoon's people to keep
Jacobson's exposure down, but I want to know what Jacobson was up to."

	"Sir."

	"Do we have a line into Pinkham's?"

	"Yes."

	"Call him at eleven or so and request a lunch meeting at, say,
Andrea's, for twelve-thirty or so tomorrow."

	"Sir."  Jason moved out, dismissed.  The way things were going,
having Sharon take over the household would be a blessing...

	Sharon was in her sitting room, going over paperwork.  Obviously,
she was going to need a desk...  The employment records that Jason had
dropped off after breakfast read more like dossiers -- everybody seemed to
have a skeleton in their closet, and some of them were doozies!  Apparently,
however, Raoul had been the most anti-social of the staff, with the probable
exception of Jason himself, whose file wasn't here...  Well, with any luck,
Jason would be able to keep the tentative one o'clock meeting, and she could
attach names to faces.  Funny, it never occurred to either her or Jason that
she might not accept the responsibilities Armand had thrust upon her...

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

	"Tenisha?  Got a second?"  Nora accosted the black girl outside
their shared third-period class.

	"Sure."  Nonetheless, she was obviously wary.

	"It's about the guys."  Nora directed Tenisha over to an area where
the tide of moving students ebbed, where Mary joined them.

	"What's up?" Tenisha asked.

	"Well, we've kind of deconstructed the little group that Nate,
Draper, and Stick had going.  I kind of wondered how you felt about that."

	Tenisha felt her way around the question.  Was there a bomb inside,
somewhere?  "Well, they were always getting in trouble, so from that
viewpoint, I'm kinda glad Draper's out of it.  But they're his friends...
Besides, you two seem to have them under control..."

	"Yeah, well, I was thinking that the fact that we don't all run
together might be an issue..."

	"Oh."  Historically, Tenisha hadn't had much in common with the
other two -- but then her small circle of girlfriends wasn't exclusionist...
"Well, I pretty well know where you're coming from..."  Due to the strange
things going on Prom Night, Nora had actually lost her cherry to Nate at
Tenisha's, and Tenisha was pretty clear as to her motivations.  She swung
her attention to Mary, "But I don't know a lot about how Mary and Stick are
doing -- and there's the Little Teddy Frick thing..."  She eyed Mary
suspiciously.  "You aren't coming off too well, there -- lotta loose talk."

	Mary sighed.  "It'll probably get worse.  It's kind of why we're
here."

	"Yeah?"

	"Yeah.  Look, the situation is... kind of unique.  There's stuff
about it that it'd be better if most people didn't know.  But Stick wants
Draper to know, and that means that you should, too.  Can we talk at lunch?"

	Tenisha thought fast.  "Okay.  Northwest corner?  I'll push off my
usual group..."

	"Great!"  Mary smiled encouragingly.  "See you there!"

	Mary moved off, but Tenisha snagged Nora.  "There's more to this
than just a little talk..."

	"Yeah.  Look, this is a serious thing, involving Stick's reputation.
Mary's going to give you a gun and hope you don't point it at her head, for
Stick's sake, and for Draper's.  You should know that Mary is putting
Stick's welfare first, here."

	"Okay," Tenisha nodded thoughtfully.  "I'm takin' your word for it.
See you there."

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

	"Boss?" Flood stuck his head out into the club. "Phone."

	Rodday took in the odd look as he got up.  "Trouble?"

	"Dunno."

	Rodday strode into the office and took the phone, "Rodday."

	"Mr. Pinkham?  Charlene, Armand Wilson's secretary.  Mr. Wilson
would like to know if you're free to have lunch with him tomorrow?"

	Rodday, taken flat-footed, dithered.  "I'll need to check my
schedule.  Where?  When, exactly?"

	"Do you know Andrea's?  We were thinking twelve-thirty," Charlene
replied.

	"I'll... have to get back to you.  My assistant isn't here..."

	"Certainly, Sir.  When should I be able to get a reply?"

	"Uh, an hour or so, I think," Rodday temporized.

	"That'll be fine, Sir.  I'll call back then."

	Rodday eyed Flood.  "Why would Armand Wilson want to see me?"

	Flood frowned.  "Dunno, Boss."

	"Send somebody to check out Andrea's.  I need to know if it's safe."

	"Okay, Boss."  Flood started off, then stopped dead at the office
door, "What about Whatshername?  Tabitha?"

	Rodday thought about it.  "Nah.  Can't be.  You DID check, didn't
you?"

	"I asked around a bit, Boss -- but I didn't go nuts.  It seemed like
pure bullshit to me..."  Actually, Flood's entire investigation had lasted
about ninety seconds.

	"It's odd -- but I can't think of anything else.  See if you can
find her kid.  We need answers."

	"Okay, Boss."

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

	Tenisha was where she said she'd be -- the northwest corner of the
cafeteria.  She leaned back against the wall as Nora and Mary seated
themselves.  "Okay, so, what is it?"

	"Let's talk about you and Mary.  Are there any problems there?" Nora
asked.

	"Nothin' much negative," Tenisha replied warily, "but nothin' much
positive, either."  She addressed Mary.  "I kinda like the way you think,
sometimes -- you're pretty funny.  Dating Stick is, well, kind of a mixed
thing, I guess.  I mean, you're not..."

	"Black?" Mary interjected.

	"Yeah.  And there's Teddy.  You come off as kind of a..."

	"Slut?" Mary sighed.  "Well, I'm aware of that, and if I get my way,
it probably won't change..."

	"Huh?  Why?  What do you get out of THAT?  Is it true?"

	"Well, I guess it depends on your point of view," Mary shrugged.
"From mine, I'm in a committed relationship with two boys.  And no, it
doesn't benefit me -- but it benefits Stick."

	"I don't get it."

	"Well, this is where we are," Nora interjected.  "Mary wants to --
needs to -- tell you, because Stick wants to tell Draper.  But either one of
you can take this info and hurt Stick bad with it -- and Mary and Teddy into
the bargain..."

	"Sounds secret."  Tenisha watched the other two nod.  "Maybe I
shouldn't know."

	Mary looked at the floor.  "You'll no doubt hear it from Draper.
We're just -- I don't know WHAT we hope to accomplish.  Basically, I'm going
out on a limb, hoping you don't feel like running a chainsaw."

	"You want me to promise to keep whatever this is to myself, right?"

	"Uh huh.  And we want to know if you can hang with the group in the
face of the cover story."

	"What's the cover story?"

	"Um, in a nutshell, it's like this:  Teddy and I were fucking,
because I was trying to rope him in.  Stick came in and displaced Teddy, and
now he's running things, as far as I'm concerned.  But Teddy wheedled him
into having me supply him an occasional fuck for services rendered."

	"Like what?"

	"Car rides, tutoring, general scut work...  Whatever comes to mind."

	"Huh!  That's pretty sordid...  That's the cover story?  What the
fuck is it covering?  What's worse?"

	Nora and Mary shared a look.  "We need that promise, now."

	"Okay, you got it.  This has got to be heavy..."

	Mary sighed heavily.  "The actual relationship is a good deal more
equal, although the pecking order is about right.  But it ignores an
additional dimension...  Stick and Teddy have a relationship, too -- one
that I'm not strictly a part of."

	Tenisha frowned, trying to wrap her mind around the concept.  "Stick
and Teddy are..."

	"Fucking.  Well, Stick is fucking Teddy, not vice-versa..."  Mary
cut to the chase.

	"Whoa!"  Tenisha sat there, dazed.  "You mean they're..."

	"What?" Mary, stressed, began to show irritation.

	"Gay?  Queer?"

	"Noooo..."  Mary controlled herself.  "If they were, neither of them
would be fucking ME!  And they're BOTH doing THAT!  The proper term is
'bisexual'..."

	"Okay, okay."  Tenisha glanced at Nora.  "Nate knows?"

	Nora sighed.  "Yeah, he had a fit -- but the three of them have
something different going on here, and he's come around."

	"Different?"

	"Uh huh.  It's a real, three-corner relationship.  Each of them gets
things they want and need from the other two.  It's not equal, but it's
apparently stable..." Nora paused, "unless Stick takes a lot of loose heat
for being gay!"

	Mary nodded.  "Teddy wouldn't catch much flack for being gay --
except he isn't -- and I can handle being called a slut, if that's what it
takes.  But Stick is looking at taking a lot of shit..."

	Tenisha nodded.  Tolerance for gays wasn't big in the 'hood.  The
official position was that being gay was a white boy's problem, and anything
that contradicted that was... inconvenient... and would be a source of
trouble.  Similarly, 'bisexual' wouldn't play; you were straight, or you
were fucked up -- no middle ground.  The fact that a fair population had
spent time in various jails and had participated in gay sex, willingly or
unwillingly, only seemed to intensify the denial.  "Okay.  How did this
happen?"

	"Basically?" Mary replied, "Basically, Teddy got to him first.
Teddy apparently gives a helluva blowjob..."

	"What'd he do?  Walk up to him and offer to blow him?" Tenisha shook
her head.

	"No, it was more anonymous than that.  Ever hear of a glory hole?"

	"No."

	"Happens a lot in bathrooms, or peep booths at dirty book stores.
Basically, there's a hole in the wall; after some kind of signal, a guy
sticks his dick in the hole, and whoever is on the other side blows him.
Doesn't HAVE to be a guy -- and it doesn't HAVE to be a blowjob -- but
that's the general thing..."

	"Then how did Stick...?"

	"It's a long story, and I had both hands in it," Mary sighed, "but
this is STILL a little public.  Later, okay?"

	"Okay," Tenisha pouted.  "I get it, sorta."

	"Is Draper gonna throw a fit?" Mary asked.

	"Well, probably.  I still don't REALLY understand..." Tenisha shook
her head.

	"I dunno if I could ever make it really, really clear," Mary
replied.  "It just sorta happened.  I got in after the first round, but I
probably could have killed it -- but if I had, probably none of us would be
sleeping together, so in the long run..."

	"Well, Draper is pretty level-headed; he'll probably pull out.  I
guess the other question is whether I can hang out with you guys, given the
rep Mary's gonna collect from this -- right?"

	"Right," Nora confirmed.

	"I can do it -- but you've got to tell all!"

	Mary chuckled, "I figure I can do that..."

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

	The whole staff was gathered in the formal living room of the
mansion.  "It is Mr. Wilson's wish that much of the responsibility for day-
to-day operations be passed from myself to Sharon, here.  For those few of
you who might be unaware, Sharon is Mr. Wilson's ex-wife and the mother of
his daughter, Nora.  This makes her more that qualified to anticipate Mr.
Wilson's requirements..."  Jason paused and collected everyone's eyes.

	"Sharon is not assuming this position as Mr. Wilson's spouse,
however.  While she will be Mistress of this house, her relationship to Mr.
Wilson will more closely resemble that of several others in this room.  Mr.
Wilson has not yet decided whether he will resume attracting and
interviewing prospective mates; until and unless he does, it will be
business as usual from the perspective of Mr. Wilson's physical needs for
those of you who have catered to them before..."

	Sharon sighed.  "No doubt I will appear on the roster.  Several of
you know this -- I recognize a couple of faces -- our physical relationship
didn't end with the marriage.  Now that I'm here, I expect that it'll be
just that much easier for him..."

	"I will continue to be available to support and assist Sharon; for
the moment, I suggest that we continue with business as usual.  You will
brief her on any standard policies and procedures that apply to you, and get
her input on new situations," Jason instructed.

	"Um, speaking of which...  Who handles breakfast?" Sharon asked.

	"Ah do."  Velma raised her hand.

	"The layout is incredible, and I wouldn't think of interfering with
Armand's input -- but I know Nora, and she was overwhelmed.  A little cold
cereal, some juice, and coffee -- or one of those bottled latte things -- is
fine on a weekday."

	Velma wrinkled her nose.  "She need hot stuff."

	"Well, I agree, but we're going to have to bring her along slowly.
A toasted bagel, maybe, and fruit for the cereal, to start?  Let's talk
about it..."

	"...Which brings me to another issue," Jason interjected.  "Miss
Wilson is Mistress here, not her mother.  While Sharon is to be deferred to
due to her position, she is staff; Nora is to be dealt with as Mr. Wilson's
daughter.  There is a subtle difference there; I expect you all to
understand it and work within the restrictions involved."

	Leticia asked, "What about Miss Wilson's guests?"

	Jason stared her down.  "Miss Wilson's guests are MISTER Wilson's
guests, unless he indicates otherwise.  In the case of Mr. Adams, this is
clearly the case, as not only does Mr. Adams have an ongoing relationship
with Miss Wilson, but he may be in physical danger.  His mother is currently
hospitalized, and we plan to ensure that Nate does not join her."  He glared
at Leticia for a moment.  "If Miss Wilson's choice in companions offends you
due to your spurious commitment to the idea of racial purity, TOUGH!  Mr.
Wilson has spoken clearly in this matter."  Jason generalized his focus.
"The preceding being said, Sharon nonetheless holds a preeminent position in
this household; the only people for whom she is not directly in the chain of
command are myself and Charles, and we are charged to cooperate with her
wherever possible.  The Wench will continue to be assigned to Sharon
whenever it does not interfere with her primary duties or her training for
same."  He fixed Charles with a glance, "That's direct from Mr. Wilson."
Charles nodded.

	Sharon shifted her attention to Charles, "Let's talk about that -- I
don't want to interfere with her training."  Charles nodded again.  Sharon
addressed the group, "I'll be chasing you each down individually in the next
few days; in the meantime, if something needs to come to my attention, feel
free to chase ME down.  For now, if Jason wants to know about it, I do, too
-- and until I get my feet on the ground, things may not be limited to that.
Everybody understand?  Let's go to work."

	As certain male members of the mass exodus headed back to the south
wing, Phillippe murmured, "So, that's the little woman..."

	Ed felt like he had to say something.  "Yeah, well, don't brush her
off -- she's tougher than she looks.  She's been putting up with the Boss
for a long time..."

	"Big ass on her..."

	"Big talk about how she isn't the Boss's main squeeze to the
contrary, you put your hand on that without permission and the Boss will
probably cut it off and put you outside the gate to bleed out.  You better
get your head in the right place, Man."

	"I agree," Boris rumbled.  "I would be very careful around her, if
for no other reason than the fact that Jason will continue to enforce
discipline."

	"For all I know, the Boss might stake her out next to the Wench next
week as entertainment for a barbeque -- but until he does, I'm keeping MY
hands -- AND my MOUTH -- to myself..." Ed added.

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

	"What was that with Leticia?" Sharon asked.

	Jason grimaced.  "She has a thing about black men and white women.
But, of course, it's okay for her to chase white guys...  That's how she got
here..."

	"I know.  I recognized her, and Consuelo, too, for that matter."

	"I don't think Armand has had Leticia for a while," Jason showed his
teeth, "She's getting bitchy..."

	Sharon tittered.  "I don't suppose that Armand just has sex with any
of the staff..."

	"If he does, it's not often..." Jason showed his teeth again in his
characteristic rictus.  "I seem to remember that she hates enemas, in
particular...  Maybe we should have young Mr. Adams administer it?"

	"Let's not despoil Nate without Nora's approval," Sharon replied.

	"Perhaps yourself, then?  Get a feel for how the other half lives?
It'd make a fine object lesson..."

	"I, uh..."  Sharon sputtered.  "I don't know if I'm ready for that,
yet."

	"Think about it," Jason replied.  "Leticia needs to be put in her
place.  If you were to fill her full of water and make her hold it until she
tongued you to orgasm, for instance, it would be a powerful lesson, not only
for her, but for the others."

	"Oh, my..."  Sharon didn't want to look closely at the mix of
emotions THAT idea brought her.  "I dunno..."

	" 'Best t'were done quickly'," Jason quoted.

	"I don't think I could..."

	Jason stared her down.  "I think you could."  He turned away.  "Will
there be anything else?  I need to make a phone call."

	"No, I don't think so."

	"I may sequester Inez for a couple of days.  Her estranged husband
has been killed accidentally, on a company project.  It's pretty
embarrassing to me and to Armand as it could easily look like one of us
ordered it."  Jason shook his head.  "Stupid bastard."

	"Want to talk about it?"  Sharon had to deal with the man, daily.
Might as well develop a relationship...

	"Okay," Jason nodded, thinking basically the same thing.  "Do you
know the background?"

	A few minutes later, they were sitting in Jason's office.  "... So
Armand sent him to Jacobson in KC.  Jacobson apparently saw him as a new
face, and decided to use him in a covert op -- but Raoul, being the ass that
he was, escalated a run-in with a security guard...  Armand wants me to
grill Jacobson a bit -- I could use a witness, if you know what I mean..."

	"I can see that," Sharon replied.  "There is a serious conflict of
interest, here..."  She waved assent.

	Jason dialed and put the phone on speaker.  "Jacobson," the speaker
announced.

	"Jacobson, it's Kemp."

	"Yessir."

	"What have you found out?"

	"I can't get any too close.  Apparently, he had a run-in with an
armed, alert security guard."

	"I need to understand why you sent him in solo -- I TOLD you he was
an arrogant fool..."

	Jacobson sighed.  "Okay, okay, maybe I got too smart for my own
good. I knew the guy was in trouble with you guys in the HQ, but he knew too
much to just cut loose.  I needed a warm body to do this break-in to take
the heat off our mole.  I figured if he got caught, we could bail him and
send him home to Mexico where he couldn't hurt anybody -- so I left an alarm
circuit out of the briefing.  I didn't think he'd get stupid and try to kill
people..."

	"Anything else I need to know?" Jason asked.

	"Nooo, I think we covered most of it before.  He had a fake
distribution schedule with him and Staffordshire ID.  I don't know whether
he put the schedule in place or not..."

	"How was he supposed to post the schedule?"

	"It was on a file on a floppy.  We spent half the afternoon
practicing firing up a machine and overwriting a file," Jacobson replied.
"If he got it into place, he'd have probably dropped the floppy in a trash
can somewhere.  He was also supposed to dump the ID somewhere, too --
somewhere visible, if possible."

	"Okay."  Jason looked at Sharon, who shrugged.  What did she know
about criminal break-ins?  "I guess that's it, then.  Keep your head down,
and we'll see what else comes in."

	"Okay."  They hung up.  Jason sighed.  "We have some investigators
looking at this from the outside, but this was Jacobson's game -- neither
Armand nor I was aware of it.  Jacobson is relatively autonomous."

	"I didn't know you were doing burglaries!" Sharon exclaimed.

	"Compared to what happened to you a couple of days ago, this should
have been peanuts," Jason replied.  "There is a little bit of industrial
espionage out there -- not a lot, just enough for everyone to keep their
hand in.  At base, this would have been a classic operation -- mess
something up, as invisibly as possible, point the finger at someone else,
and leave.  Jacobson added a bit to it, but had it worked, it would have
solved a problem that Raoul presented; we really wouldn't want to let him go
and have him going to a competitor to exact his vengeance, and, frankly,
Raoul was petty that way."

	"Dead men tell no tales..."

	"Well, yeah, but I don't think Jacobson planned it that way.  Worst
case, Raoul would sit in jail for a while.  We'd have made it worth his
while.  Jacobson's idea was even better; we could have bailed him out and
then sent him back to Mexico with a nice fat severance check.  With a
warrant out for his arrest, Raoul wouldn't return..."

	"But it didn't quite work."

	"No."  Jason sighed.  "And I have to tell Inez and Bianca what
happened, which will make me look guilty, because it's so damned
convenient..."

	"You care what they think?"

	Jason opened his mouth, shut it, pondered a moment.  "Yeah.  I feel
bad enough.  I hated Raoul's guts, but I don't want Inez or Bianca thinking
that of me..."

	Sharon was more than mildly surprised.  In her experience, Jason was
positively brutal.  "Why?"

	Jason glared at her.  "There are things I WON'T admit to..."

	"...Like the fact that he loves his chubby little Chicana slave..."
came a rumble from the door.  Armand stood there, grinning.

	Jason said nothing, but if looks could kill...  Sharon jumped.
"Armand, don't make things any worse!"

	"Hmmmm.  Guess you're right.  I guess you're privy to what went
down, then?"  Sharon nodded.  "It might help if you were present when we
tell the women, then."  Armand turned to Jason.  "I got a report on the
specifics from Witherspoon's people; Raoul alerted security in some
manner..."

	"There was an alarm he wasn't briefed on..." Jason interjected.

	"... And he tried to take out an armed guard with a throwing knife.
The guard's statement says he was shooting to wound, but he flinched while
ducking the knife."

	"Raoul missed?" Jason asked, surprised.

	"No, the guard apparently ducked and took the knife in the shoulder.
Undoubtedly, had the guard been less alert, Raoul would have succeeded.  And
THAT would have been an even WORSE mess, if possible..."  Armand shook his
head.

	Sharon shuddered.  "I don't ever want to be a party to this type of
thing," she asserted.

	Armand nodded.  "That's fine; it's very limited.  This went some
distance too far."

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

	The younger set slowly coalesced in the parking lot after school.
Draper found Tenisha with everyone else, and tried to decide why that was
mildly surprising.  "Hey, whazzup?"

	"Hey," Nate returned.  There were a lot of nods, but there was dead
silence.

	"Awright, sumpthin's up. Give!" Draper grunted.  He glanced
pointedly at Teddy.  "Or do I need to wait?"

	"Nope," Stick sighed.  "Teddy's in to stay.  In fact, that's a lot
of it."

	Draper got wary, "Oh?"

	"Yeh."

	Stick was having problems getting beyond that point, so Mary started
up, "Teddy's a permanent feature.  It's kind of a package deal."

	Draper's eyes shuttered.  "Don' hafta be..."

	"Yeh, it does, Man," Stick got out.

	Draper took in various faces, even Tenisha's.  What the fuck?  "If
Mary's gotta have two dicks..."

	"Mary don't enter into it..."  Stick was angry, anyway.

	Draper glared back.  "Does she, or don't she?"

	"Okay, she does, but that ain't the problem!" Stick rasped.

	"Easy!  Shit, lighten up!" Nate stepped in to calm things, a new
role for him.  "Teddy is in, Man.  The rest of us have bought into the
reason, one way or another, but Stick's havin' a hard time with it..."

	"Howcum?"

	" 'Cause it's gonna cost him."

	Draper started adding up the facts.  Stick wanted Teddy around, and
Mary was and wasn't part of it...  "So, you fuckin' the little shit?"

	"Yeh."

	"Jeezus!"  Draper was taken aback.  "An' Mary?"

	"Both a' us are doin' her.  We like it that way.  ALL of us."

	Stick was glaring, but Draper knew he wasn't angry.  Stick was
scared, and covering it.  And the only reason he'd be scared...  "Awright.
Who knows?"

	"This'd be everybody."

	"So I made the cut?"

	"You're my frien'."  Stick's expression asked the question, 'Are you
gonna shit on me?'

	"You tellin' the world?"  Draper asked.

	"I hope ta fuck not," Stick replied.  "I'm workin' on a tale..."

	"Goes like this," Mary interjected.  "I've been pulling Teddy in
with pussy for a long time, but Stick now owns it.  Teddy's willing to pay
for sloppy seconds by doing whatever Stick wants..."

	"So you gotta sex slave?" Draper grinned.

	"People will believe that..." Stick shrugged, "Pop did..."

	"Kinda fucks Mary -- an' Teddy, too," Draper observed.

	"We can take it," Teddy asserted.

	"I don't get it, but, hey..." Draper shrugged.

	"We're all kinda surprised -- but what we got goin' works," Stick
shrugged back.

	Draper looked around.  "So, this is it?"

	"Yeh," Nate agreed.  "This is it."  Draper eyed Tenisha, who nodded.

	"Cool.  What's up tonight?"

	"I gotta go home an' get some clean underwear.  Ain't been home
since Sunday night," Nate asserted.

	"Gonna go see your Mama?"

	"Yeh.  Probably first; she might want somethin'."

	"Awright.  I wanna go, too.  'Nisha?"  Tenisha nodded.  "You guys
goin'?"  Draper was careful to be inclusive of Mary and Teddy.

	"Yeh.  Teddy's drivin'.  One of my bennies..." Stick produced a
malicious grin.  Teddy blushed, but Stick ruffled his hair and Mary squeezed
his hand.

	"Les go, then..." Draper collected Tenisha and headed for his car.
Once they were moving, he turned to his girlfriend, "So, how long you been
in on it?"

	"Since lunch.  The girls were afraid I'd refuse to hang with Mary
because of the cover story -- and maybe even if I knew the truth.  But they
felt like they had to risk it, 'cause Stick felt like he HAD to tell you..."

	"I'm not awful surprised, really," Draper chuckled.  "Stick was
always kinda out there where stickin' his dick in sumpthin' was concerned.
Coupla years ago, he got one of those 'pocket pussies' an' wore it out..."
He shook his head.  "Nate gets squicked real easy over dudes doin' dudes --
but Stick always jus' kinda went along for the ride..."  He shot Tenisha a
glance, "How much the girls tell ya?"

	"Not much -- yet.  But I made 'em promise to give up the details.
I'm... nosy.  The whole thing makes me kind of horny..."  Tenisha looked
mildly embarrassed.

	Draper grinned and ruffled her hair with a big paw.  "EVERYTHING
makes you horny!  I ain't complainin' though..."

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

	Dwayne took a shot in the chops as a passed ball caught him napping.
"Oww!  Shit!"

	"Pay some fucking attention to the game, fuckhead!" Ted ranted,
"What the fuck?"  A glance at the bleachers and he answered his own
question.  "Darla Jean again?  Maybe the air IS cleaner at the top of the
bleachers!"

	Rob snickered, and Dwayne reddened, "Shit!"  He sneaked another
look, embarrassed.  Darla Jean was looking back -- and her blouse was tied
off midriff, too.  "She's teasing me!"

	"You're dreaming, Man!  Fucking dreaming!" Ted jeered.  "Besides,
she's a fucking librarian..."

	Rob was going to add to Dwayne's embarrassment, but Mary Eikenberry
came through the gym door at that moment.  Looking around, she caught sight
of Darla Jean and climbed up to join her.  "What are YOU doing HERE?" she
asked.

	Darla Jean eyed Mary while she thought about a response.  Mary was
on the 'A' list, usually -- but since the Prom, there had been persistent
rumors about how she'd lured Rob away from Claudette...  "I've taken up
jock-watching."

	"Not Rob, I hope..."

	"No.  I wouldn't poach -- even if I thought it was possible."  The
underground said that Bang Nation was in an uproar because Rob wouldn't give
them the time of day...  "I hear that Claudette is giving you a hard
time..."

	"She deserved what she got," Mary replied.  "They were done before I
came in to sweep up; Dina Nellis and Twyla Banks put the skids under her at
the Prom.  She's all show and no go -- you just don't keep a boy that
way..."  She shrugged, "At least, not one worth a damn..."

	Darla Jean shrugged.  "I'm still trying to acquire a basis for
comparison..."

	Mary blinked.  Did that comment mean what she THOUGHT it meant?
"Who are you looking at?"

	"Dwayne.  Ted has nice buns, but I get bad vibes."

	"You're probably right," Mary chuckled.  "Dwayne's probably a nice,
middle of the road choice..."

	"No better than that?" Darla Jean wondered.

	"I got an underground rumor or two...  He's okay, I guess -- a
little undervalued right now, but with Rob out of circulation, that'll
improve..."

	"Undervalued?"

	"He ought to have a girlfriend -- but Rob was tying up all of the
hopefuls.  Now, maybe they'll spread out.  I agree with you about Ted; he's
trouble..."  She paused.  "Dwayne's okay, but he's not smart enough to keep
you -- and I don't think he's good enough in the sack, either..."

	"Really?"

	"Really.  Come on, what's going on..." Mary nudged Darla Jean
gently.

	"Okay," Darla Jean admitted.  "Like I said, I'm looking to discover
a baseline.  I, uh, made the move last weekend.  It was incredible -- he
rocked my world -- but I don't know whether it was him, or just that I had a
lot pent up..."

	"Um, well, I know how you feel," Mary murmured.  "Rob sure lit MY
fuse the first time -- but then, he lit it the second time, too...  I have
it unofficially that Dwayne has a couple of notches on his gun belt, but
that he isn't King Kong or anything..."

	"Oh?"

	"Yeah."  Mary made a wry face.  "One of my old girlfriends is on the
cheerleading squad.  On a sleepover a while back, she let it slip that she
got too blitzed to care at an after-game party and pulled a train for the
team.  Dwayne wasn't memorable."

	"Damn!"

	"It STILL won't hurt anything..." Mary counseled.  "Sex isn't
EVERYTHING -- although I'm beginning to wonder if it isn't in first
place..."  She shook her head.  "If you want to sample 'average', Dwayne's
probably your man.  Rumor has it that Ted is better, but he's a real
predator; you don't want HIS teeth in you..."

	"I'll bear that in mind..."  The two set to watching their selected
boys and giggling; Darla Jean had never exchanged this many words with Mary,
but she was doing a lot of new things -- and Mary was missing female
company, due to her recent snubbing.

	"If you're gonna become a femme fatale, we're gonna have to work on
your wardrobe and makeup," Mary observed, "although tying your blouse up
like that is a good start..."

	"Well, I'd been practicing hiding everything, so I'll have to re-
learn..."

	"Well, a lot of it is attitude," Mary simpered, "and you've picked
up THAT..."

	"There is a lot of false advertising out there," Darla Jean opined.
"How do boys know the difference?"

	"They don't, thank God!" Mary laughed.  "They have to learn the hard
way.  You and I can probably pick up a faker on sight, but boys?  They have
to take a run at it..."

	The two gabbed until the desultory basketball practice ended, then
Darla Jean moved on while Mary hung out waiting for Rob.  The guys spent a
lot of time ribbing Dwayne.  "Hey, why don't you stick your pecker out of
your shorts and let IT watch for the ball?" Ted chided.

	"Aw, well, Darla Jean is fucking with my head!" Dwayne rasped.
"What do you make of her and Mary just having a ball up there?" he asked
Rob.

	"Dunno.  Maybe Darla Jean's getting pointers on how to trap you for
one of her science experiments?" Rob chuckled.

	"Yeah, well, maybe Mary was looking for pointers on how to pack YOU
in formaldehyde!" Dwayne retorted.

	Everyone in earshot laughed, as had been going on generally, but Rob
returned soberly, "Mary has all the tools she needs..."

	Things quieted down; watching Rob take himself out of circulation
had others thinking.  Ted broke the silence with, "So, when are you gonna
hit on Darla Jean, there, Romeo?"

	"Uh, gee, dunno."   Dwayne was suddenly nervous.  "Thought I'd give
her more time to make it clear what she's up to..."

	"Darla Jean probably won't GET any clearer without direct action,
Man.  You better test the water -- quick -- before some nerd smells pussy
juice and fumbles up to her..."

	"Huh!  I gotta worry about that?" Dwayne grinned.

	"You do if you're not gonna show her anything!" Ted retorted.
"She'll get bored and move on to somebody less dense!"  He paused.  "Now
that I think about it, I wouldn't set my sights on keeping her for a steady
piece, Man.  Darla Jean don't have a lot of patience for ordinary folk...
You better plan on using the four 'F's..."

	"Huh?"

	"You know, how Rob handles Bang Nation!  Find 'em, feel 'em, fuck
'em, and forget 'em!"  That got its usual laugh from the spectators.

	Dwayne shook his head.  "If I go in thinkin' THAT she'll smell it
and be gone for sure!"

	"Then don't," Rob counseled.  "I don't, whatever TED thinks.  I've
been interviewing Bang Nation; if one of them had worked out, I'd have put
Claudette out to pasture -- but none of them could offer the total package.
Go in with an open mind, and take what is offered.  You'll both know if
there is more to be had, and whether you can handle it.  Ted's problem is
that he wants to be the playboy of the western world, and he goes in acting
that way.  Most chicks don't want to be just spread, squirted on and left
with their panties down.  I don't even do THAT to Bang Nation girls.  Most
of 'em know that it isn't going to happen when we're done the first time --
they can sense it.  And part of the reason is the Bang Nation approach.
Mary... Mary didn't make the Bang Nation approach, but she wasn't playing
Claudette's game, either.  And she's got what it takes..."

	"So what're you saying?" Dwayne asked.

	"Go in prepared to see what happens.  I tend to agree with Ted;
Darla Jean won't hang around long.  But you never know, so go for the gusto.
Let HER call it -- your name will still get out if you treat her halfway
decent..."

	"Ahhh, fuck with her head, Man!  Let her know what she's gettin'!
She'll come around!  She's lookin' for that display boyfriend -- make HER a
trophy on YOUR wall FIRST!" Ted argued.

	Rob shook his head.  Dwayne looked from one to the other and nodded,
carefully NOT showing whose advice he was listening to -- but Rob had two
things going for him -- well, one, actually.  Experience.  Ted had laid his
hands on very little more pussy than Dwayne -- even if you believed the
tales he told about Amy Kelleher (which Dwayne didn't).  Rob had hot and
cold running pussy, and if some of them were kinda tearful afterwards, there
wasn't a lot of finger pointing.  Ted had a couple of serious female
enemies, and a couple of guys who were pissed about having to pick up the
pieces of some chick to make a girlfriend out of her.  The evidence said Ted
didn't know jack shit...

	Darla Jean went home humming.  Getting an appointment at her
mother's gynecologist had proven remarkably easy; their medical plan didn't
require a consultation for what was essentially preventative medicine.  In a
few days, she'd be ready for Dwayne...  If things broke before that, she'd
try HARD to do the rubber thing.  In the meantime, Mother wasn't likely to
be any too concerned about the noises she made while masturbating -- not any
more, anyway...

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

	Bianca came in from school to find Jason occupying the sitting room
of their apartments -- which was odd, considering the fact that he'd
basically announced that he never wanted to come there again...  Mama's
stuff was moved out already, too...

	But Jason merely nodded at her, got up and left immediately,
offering no explanation.  Bianca went to her room to change clothes, and was
in mid-change from her school uniform to shorts and a halter when her mother
walked in.  "Lord Armand wants to see us."

	"Oh?"  Bianca's mind was blank -- certainly SHE hadn't done
anything.  "Any idea why?"

	"No, Daughter, I don't.  But it cannot be good..."  Inez was
fidgeting badly.

	"We'll deal with it, Mama, whatever it is..."  Finished dressing,
she waved her mother before her.  Mama could get so wrapped up in things...

	Mister Armand's office was almost crowded; Jason was there, too, as
well as Mrs. Wilson -- whatever she was supposed to call her.  Mama called
her Mistress, but she was supposedly more of an employee than Mister
Armand's wife.

	Inez freaked:  "Master, Master, what have I done?"  She went to her
knees, crying.

	But Mister Jason merely stepped forward and hugged her against his
leg.  "You've done nothing, but we have evil news."

	Mister Armand looked grave.  "When I sent him from here, I never
foresaw this," he rumbled, "but your husband -- your father -- has been
killed.  One of my agents in Kansas City sent him to perform a task that
held some danger, and he escalated a situation that led to his death."

	"Papa?  Dead?" Bianca asked stupidly, shock rendering her vacuous.

	"Yes, Dear.  I'm so sorry," Mrs. Wilson said.  She stepped forward
and took Bianca's hands.  "I'm very sorry for your loss..."

	"Papa..."  Tears rolled.  Sharon pulled her in and hugged her.

	"How did it happen?" Inez asked, climbing to her feet.  Jason didn't
step away.  Instead, he stood there, rubbing her back, looking discomfited.

	Armand shrugged.  "Raoul was new in KC.  Having a new face around
was valuable to his new supervisor, because it meant he was unknown to the
competition.  So he sent him out on a covert job.  Jason had warned him that
Raoul required supervision, but it was apparently an easy job...  Raoul got
caught and tried to fight his way out, and injured a guard with one of his
throwing knives.  The guard's official testimony," Armand tapped a fax he'd
gotten in the afternoon, "says he was shooting to wound, but the knife
caused him to flinch.  Raoul was shot in the chest, and died almost
instantly."

	"I see," Inez said dully.  "And the body?"

	"We, uh, haven't recovered him, because it would undo what he was
there to accomplish..." Armand looked embarrassed.

	"Oh."  Inez thought about it.  "Si.  He had false papers?"

	Armand nodded.  "Yes.  In addition, since his job occasionally
exposed him to danger, we got his fingerprints mixed up in the government's
systems with those of another person.  He will be difficult to positively
identify, unless we tip our hand."

	Inez nodded.  "This would not be his wish -- this ruining the plan.
We spoke of this, several times."  She gathered herself.  "It was his fault,
too, wasn't it?"

	Armand sighed and nodded.  "Nobody told him to go throwing knives at
people.  Especially people with guns.  In fact, from what I can tell, he was
instructed to go quietly to jail and that we would bail him out."

	Inez nodded.  "Daughter..."

	"I know."  Bianca sniffled, but nodded, backing off from Sharon.
"It is the way Papa would do it."  She shook her head.  "I know how he
was..."

	"Well, it is how he would have wanted to go -- not rotting in a
jail..."  Inez shook her head.  She'd have been happy to have never seen him
again, but he had been a part of her life for a long time...  "When did you
learn of this?"

	"This morning," Jason answered.  "It happened last night.  Raoul's
new boss was waiting to pick him up, so he knew that Raoul had failed to
escape, but he didn't get word of his death until this morning.  We waited
until Bianca came home so we could tell you both.  We also wanted to be able
to tell you more..."  He grimaced, "Besides, it looks bad; I didn't want you
to wonder if I had his blood on my hands."  He glared at the ground.  "I
detested him, but I didn't send him off to get killed."

	"I'm sorry, but how do we know this?" Bianca asked.

	"I spoke to the man in Kansas City; Jason had me there as a witness
while he debriefed him." Sharon piped up.  "The man took full
responsibility.  It was his operation; he was acting independently and had
not discussed it with Armand or Jason."

	"You may speak to him, too, if you like.  I will send for him, if
necessary," Armand rumbled.  He paused.  "Frankly, I might have approved the
mission, and approved Raoul's participation -- but I would have probably
stressed that he not go in alone..."

	Inez nodded.  Jason NEVER let Raoul go on anything covert alone,
something that Raoul had railed at, but subsequent comments from Jason had
made clear was always necessary, as Raoul tended to be hot-headed and make
mistakes.  Jason had usually debriefed Inez by ranting at her about Raoul's
stupidity while abusing her worse than normal...  She could remember one
particular incident where Jason demanded a blowjob while wielding a quirt...

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

	"All he had to do was keep his BIG MOUTH..."

	WHACK!  The quirt descended, full force!

	"...FUCKING..."

	WHACK!

	"...SHUT!"

	POW!

	Inez had almost swallowed Jason's cock whole, trying to get away,
and the stinging welts had shown for a week...

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

	Inez roused herself from the memory.  "Daughter, this has the ring
of truth..."

	Bianca hung her head.  "I know."  Wasn't Papa ALWAYS in trouble for
acting up?

	"Please, sit, everyone," Armand offered.  Inez and Bianca settled on
a small couch: Jason, uneasily, on a chair.  Armand assumed his seat behind
the desk, and Sharon pulled up another chair from the side of the room.
When Jason noticed, he assisted her in repositioning it.

	Inez pondered a bit.  "How does this change things?"

	"From my perspective, it need not," Armand responded.  "You already
possess independent employment, and the circumstances of your relationship
with Jason haven't changed any.  Obviously, there will now be no divorce --
that situation has improved, if you'll pardon my mentioning it."  He
steepled his fingers.  "Did Raoul make any provision for you upon his
death?"

	"No," Inez said tonelessly, "It wasn't his way."  Actually, on a
couple of occasions, he'd made remarks to the effect that it amused him that
Inez would be bereft upon his death...

	"Well, you should look around," Armand counseled.  "Actually, as an
employee, he had a small accidental death policy.  Collection would be
difficult, under the circumstances, but I can disburse the funds to replace
the policy from another account."

	"How much is small?" Inez wondered aloud.  This was the first she'd
heard of it...

	"Fifty thousand dollars..."

	Inez's eyes popped. "WHAT?"

	Armand was expressionless.  "It's a standard employee term-life
policy.  In fact, you should have one.  Jason, have her employment papers
been drawn up properly?"

	Fifty thousand dollars!  Inez sat there, dazed.  She could go back
to Mexico a rich widow!  No one need ever know what she did here...  She
could...

	No, she couldn't.  She couldn't make Bianca live in Mexico.  She
couldn't explain away the baby.  And she couldn't leave her Master...  Her
eyes flicked to Jason's, which weren't as shuttered as he thought they were.
"Bianca will need college money..."

	"No she won't," was all Jason said on the matter.  It was all he had
to, in that tone...

	"Good."  Armand sat back.  "We can bury the disbursement in Inez's
employment contract as a hiring bonus.  Inez, I recommend that you allow
Jason to invest it for you.  There will be other needs, later..."  A
significant glance at Inez's belly made the remark transparent.  He turned
his attention to Bianca.  "Young Lady, I have an urgent need to clear the
way between us and between you and your new de-facto guardian.  I imagine
that Jason recorded his conversation with Jacobson in Kansas City, as well
as having Sharon sit in as witness.  You may hear that recording if you
wish.  If necessary, I will have Jacobson fly here and discuss the matter --
but I don't think wreaking vengeance upon him is warranted, as it was an
honest mistake..."  He sighed.  "Ultimately, your father doomed himself."

	"I need to think," Bianca replied.

	"Fine."  Armand nodded.  "The recording isn't going anywhere;
neither is Jacobson.  If you have questions, feel free to bring them to me.
This episode is... highly embarrassing to me.  If I had seen fit to do
something like this, I'd admit it and let you think of me what you will;
this implication issue is... irritating."  He turned to Inez.  "From where I
sit, this changes very little in the way of your operational circumstances.
Jason is still your Master.  I am still your employer."  He leaned forward.
"The fact that Raoul's death appears to be convenient in some ways is
coincidence, not design.  You may leave my employ, if you wish, at any time.
However, there is still your child by Jason, whose illegitimacy may now be
obscured somewhat ahead of schedule.  You may or may not avoid the
embarrassment with your family that news of the adultery and divorce will
have raised; that is between you, your Master, your daughter, and the rest
of your family.  Likewise, the religious implications can be swept under the
rug, but God and the people in this room will know the difference."  He
chuckled dryly, "Most of us in this room are Protestant -- OUR God would
forgive you..."

	Sharon moved on to another matter, "Inez, do you want to take some
time off?"

	"Perhaps -- a few hours, Mistress..." Inez was shifting her eyes
between her daughter and her master.  Bianca was in her own little world,
and Master?  Master seemed uncertain how to proceed...

	Finally, Jason said, carefully, "These are unusual circumstances.
If you need to be alone, I will allow it.  Or you can come to me for...
comfort and support.  I'm not... experienced in this area, but I will
try..."

	"Thank you, Master."

	Armand waved a hand.  "Are we done?" he inquired gruffly.  The two
women most involved nodded, and Armand waved dismissal.

	Bianca got out of there.  She needed time alone, or the support of
an independent party...  Ten minutes later, she was pouring her heart out to
the Wench: "He's dead!  Mister Armand and Mister Jason are very upset
because it looks like they set him up..."

	"Did they say what happened?"

	"Papa's new boss sent him out on a job -- some kind of break-in,
apparently.  Because Papa wasn't known locally, he was apparently the
perfect choice...  Anyway, the guards found him and he tried to get clear by
killing one with a knife, but the guard was fast, and he had a gun..."  She
paused.  "They COULD have done it..."

	The Wench cuddled Bianca to her.  "I don't think so; if Master
wanted your father dead, there are easier ways.  What kind of bona fides did
they provide?"

	"What?"

	"What did they use to try to convince you?"

	"They apparently taped a talk with the boss who sent Papa in.
Mister Armand's ex-wife said she was there, and she believed him.
Apparently the guy said it was all his fault..."  Bianca shrugged.

	"Sharon said she believed him?" the Wench confirmed.

	"Yes."

	"Then I would, too.  Sharon's relationship with Master is a bit odd,
but she won't lie for him.  You can bet on that."  The Wench declaimed
confidently.

	"Really?  Weren't they married?  Isn't she, uh, little more than you
are to him?"

	The Wench chuckled.  "Maybe, Hon, but it's more how she goes about
it.  While I spend my time trying to be Master's tool, Sharon spends a lot
of time trying to define herself as a separate person.  The rules she lives
by don't allow her to lie to you; if she thought Master was up to something,
she'd be saying it -- loudly.  Master would punish her, of course..." the
Wench grinned, "but she'd do it, anyway, as a matter of principle."

	"Oh."  Bianca shook her head.  "Weird."

	"Yeah, but it works for them.  Mistress Nora is almost normal,
largely due to the way Sharon raised her and Master stayed low-profile."

	Bianca mused a bit, "There's a big difference between Papa being
dead and just being gone..."

	"There is and there isn't," the Wench argued.  "It all depends on
your relationship.  Were you ever going to see him again?  I wonder...  Does
it matter if you have a daddy out there, somewhere, if he's not in your
life?  This way, you can move on, in some ways..."

	"I guess."  Bianca was unconvinced.  "I think I'll go somewhere
quiet and think about it."