Author: Thinking Horndog
Title: Strange Relationships
Part: 03
Universe: Second Best
Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples from Second
Best and their families.
Keywords: D/s, oral, nc, 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 3
Life Below Stairs

	Inez Hernandez was furious!  Her fool of a husband, Raoul, had
angered
Mister Armand, so now her beautiful Bianca was going to have to chase around
after the red haired puta for a week!  That the child would be exposed to
multiple sex acts was a given; after all, it was the puta's job!  Inez
didn't fault the puta for this -- Mister Armand had brought out the whore in
her and was merely putting it to good use.  Some people just had roles in
life...  But Bianca was a beauty, and parading her in front of Mister Armand
and Mister Jason was an invitation to disaster.  And Inez would have to
school Bianca, or the girl would do or say something stupid and make matters
worse...  Damn Raoul!

	Raoul's stock had been falling with his wife for some time, but this
was a new low.  When they'd met while still in school back home, he'd been
dashing and fiery and impassioned; only after they had been married did Inez
realize that Raoul's 'passion' was bad temper, and he had large quantities
of foolish pride and stupidity to go with it.  But by then, they had Bianca,
and besides, Inez was a good Catholic woman...

	Still, Raoul's evil temper got him out of jobs as quickly as his
smooth charm got him into them.  Things got worse and worse as the
employment situation weakened at home, until finally Raoul just couldn't
find anything at all.  But Inez had come upon an idea, and one fine day
they'd crossed the border to the States on a day trip and had never looked
back...

	That little plan ushered in a new era of prosperity for Raoul's
family
-- until the bar fight.  Despite the loss, Raoul had given better than he
got, and some white guy (Inez worked hard at her Americanisms, so the
simpler 'gringo' was banished to the back of her mind...) had been cut, bad,
and the policia started sniffing around...  Raoul was between jobs (again!)
and they were living on Inez' pin money, which wasn't enough to run on. Inez
was waiting for the INS to come and tell her that Raoul was in prison and
she and Bianca were on their way back home when Raoul came home with Mister
Armand and Mister Jason in tow.  The deal, whatever it was exactly, had been
done before Raoul came home, but for once Raoul had done something right.
The trio moved into the relatively palatial servant's quarters of Mister
Armand's mansion and Raoul went to work, ostensibly as a downstairs butler
-- but Mister Armand had strange tastes and sometimes even stranger duties
for her husband...

	Still, Mister Armand's methods were familiar and almost comforting
to
Inez; he bound Raoul to him with the threat of the deportation of his entire
family and a possible stay in prison for Raoul.  That was the stick.  But
the carrot was a place to work, a nice place to live, and a little money to
blow periodically on a vacation home.  Mister Armand had gotten them all
counterfeit green cards, (Armand would have laughed at that -- the cards
were real, in order to protect himself from nosy Feds, but having Raoul
think they were counterfeit was useful...), so Inez could walk the streets
here with her head held high.

	Similarly, Inez had no issues with Armand's methods in general; he
was
a man of power, and he did the things men of power did -- that was all.  If
anything, Armand was a bit subtler, more refined, less brutal than say, the
local mayor in her hometown.  In Inez's experience, the law was a fiction;
men of power were a law unto themselves.  Mister Armand was like that, and
Mister Jason did what other men of power's chief lieutenants did -- he
cloaked himself in his master's power and saw to it that things happened in
accordance with his master's will, while enjoying what benefits his position
allowed.  That Raoul might periodically do something at Mister Armand's
behest that some considered 'illegal' was of little concern to Inez -- it
was more important that Mister Armand be pleased than Raoul concern himself
with someone else's arcane concept of right and wrong. This was the way of
the world, in Inez's view; as long as she did not present an obstacle to
Mister Armand or Mister Jason, life would continue to be good.

	Still, Raoul managed to fuck up regularly, keeping himself from
being
promoted and regularly landing himself in the doghouse with Mister Armand --
and, more important -- Mister Jason!  For Mister Jason was Boss, second only
to Mister Armand, and was Raoul's direct supervisor, in any case.  Besides,
if something needed doing whose legality was somewhat... questionable...
Mister Jason would generally be there to direct and supervise (something
Inez was thankful for -- that idiot Raoul would get himself jailed over some
stupidity, for sure, without somebody keeping an eye on him!)  One day,
Raoul's usefulness to Mister Armand would be at an end; on that day, Inez
vowed, Raoul's usefulness to Inez and Bianca would ALSO be at an end.
Recently, Inez had decided that, good Catholic woman she was, five years as
an Americano had taught her that some things were not to be borne -- she
would throw herself on the limited mercy of Mister Jason and Mister Armand
and wangle herself an official job as a cook and maid, and shut herself of
Raoul.  She'd been doing little things for years, helping Cook out and
filling in when there were parties; Mister Armand loved Mexican food, and
Inez was a good cook who did things the old-fashioned way -- he knew who
ground the masa and made the fresh flour tortillas he enjoyed so much...
Inez was happy to do it, too -- it staved off boredom and provided a little
pin money.

	Raoul's idiocy had begun to rankle more and more as time went on;
recently, it had become almost insufferable.  Why?  Because Raoul wasn't the
only one who paid for his mistakes...

	It had all started several years before, only about six months after
they had come to Mister Armand's house.  One day, Mister Jason had appeared
at the open door of their little rooms and announced, "That husband of yours
is...  irritating."

	That doesn't sound so bad, but Inez had been instantly alarmed.
Mister
Jason carried with him an aura of dangerous, poorly contained power
everywhere he went.  When she locked eyes with Mister Jason, that aura was
palpable.

	Inez was no longer the softly rounded beauty she'd been at fifteen;
time and pregnancy had thickened her waist and padded her ass, while sliding
her fat tits down her chest a bit.  Given the procession of beauty queens
that Mister Armand had flowing through the house, she'd never considered
herself to be in any danger of attracting anyone's attention.  She was
wrong.  And she learned it that afternoon.

	Mister Jason had stood there, with that look on his face.  A person
who had not been exposed to him much might have thought that he was calm,
but Inez saw the dark fury in his eyes.  Inez put down her sewing.  "What
has Raoul done?"

	Gradually, it came out.  Raoul had exceeded his authority in dealing
with a tradesman -- one who was in Jason's pocket.  The nature of the
offense shielded him from Jason's ire -- he couldn't justify it with Armand,
so he couldn't punish Raoul directly -- but someone MUST be punished; it was
an essential part of Jason's makeup.  And no one would be safe until Jason's
anger was slaked -- even Inez knew this.  Jason's quiet rant ended with the
words, "I am about ready to put him on the street and call the INS."

	Inez knew a threat when she heard one.  Jason had carefully avoided
adding "You and your daughter, too!"  Inez knew that there would be a reason
for that...  Carefully, she engaged his eyes and asked, "What can I do to
help?"

	Jason was off.  "You can control the fool, that's what!  I hold YOU
responsible for pounding sense into his stubborn, stupid head, and when you
fail, YOU will take the heat right along with him!  Do you understand?"  His
eyes grew even more dangerous.  "Come here!"

	Inez didn't bother to get to her feet; she went straight to her
knees
in front of the chair and walked on them to within his reach.  She knew what
was coming -- Mister Jason's ego, his masculinity, had been injured; he
would avenge himself upon Raoul in as personal a manner as he could manage.
Inez was a practical woman; she'd seen the mayor of her village stand by
watching and making comments while an adversary's wife was gang raped at his
order.  She was now hostage to Raoul's behavior, and Mister Jason wouldn't
be happy until he had delivered a lesson...

	Jason's eyes lit.  The bitch KNEW what was coming!  Roughly, he
grasped a handful of her thick, black hair and tilted her head up.  "Do you
suck cock?" he asked, then continued without awaiting an answer, "You do
now!  Get it out!"  Reaching behind him, he locked the door and flicked it
shut, one-handed.  Raoul had a key, but so what?  He'd kill the greasy
little sonofabitch and tell Armand he'd attacked him with that toad-sticker
of his...  While Inez fumbled with his belt and zipper, Jason shoved his
other hand into her peasant blouse, collecting a soft, fat mound capped by a
thick, brown nipple.  He squeezed the nipple between his fingers a bit and
it firmed, noticeably.  Intrigued, Jason hauled at the neckline of the
blouse to get a look at his find.

	Inez, looking up, caught his eyes and the quick inhale that went
with
the flash there.  Jason was pretty taciturn, and hard to read, so perhaps no
one else in the world knew what she discovered in that moment; Jason was a
tit man!  Big, natural tits -- not little pointy model mounds, and not
unnaturally protruding silicone-filled bags -- no, Jason had an eye for big
fat, soft, round, cushy jugs that rolled around a bit and were capped with a
sizeable nipple that he could tweak and tease and pull and nip...  Inez let
go of Mister Jason's belt, undid the tie at her cleavage and crossed her
arms, snatching at the cap sleeves of the peasant blouse and tugging.  When
her hands returned to his fly, the blouse was a pool around her waist, her
whole torso forced through the neckline.  The hand buried in Inez's hair
shifted away to collect another fat globe.  "You little bitch," he breathed
in awe, while touch and sight relayed impressions of her areolas crinkling,
thickening and elongating the nipples until they were the size of his pinky
fingers to the first joint.  "Hurry up, I want to feel your mouth on my
cock!" he hissed.

	Inez finished with the belt, snap, and zipper, and Jason's slacks
pooled around his ankles.  Inez began to get alarmed; the cock tenting
Mister Jason's boxers looked bigger than Raoul's...  She worked the
waistband over the taut erection and gasped.  It was HUGE!  Inez had some
experience at desultory cocksucking, but it wasn't big with Raoul, so she'd
never had any reason to get excited over it.  THIS, however, was going to be
a challenge...  Raoul had a reasonably decent 5 inch cock that tapered from
a wide, thick base to a relatively narrow tip; Mister Jason appeared to be
half again as long, much more cylindrical, and capped by a slightly fatter
mushroom head.  All in all, it was nearly twice anything that Inez had
experienced!  And Mister Jason wouldn't accept half-measures...  She lowered
her lips over the velvety head, nearly twice the size of Raoul's and the
thought flickered through her head that this was a bit more satisfying than
the narrow tip that her husband presented...  She'd SEEN cocks like this
before -- at that memorable rape scene, for instance -- but never touched,
and certainly never tasted, one!

	Jason moved her on past discovery and into challenge, returning a
hand
to her hair and pulling her onto him.  Inez knew alarm, immediately.  Deep
throat, with Raoul, wasn't an issue; she could accommodate his length in her
mouth.  Mister Jason was a different matter, altogether; she began to gag,
and there were a couple of inches out there, beyond her lips! Instinctively,
she backed off, and Jason let her, only to drive her forward again an
instant later.  They settled into a pattern:  Impale, gag, retreat, impale,
gag...  It went on and on and on, until suddenly Inez realized that she
wasn't always gagging; instead, Jason's mushroom cock head was passing
through the abused opening at the top of her throat -- not always, but about
every other stroke.  She was awash in her own spit, generated by her
multiple attempts to retch; it poured down her neck and chest, and coated
Mister Jason's pubes, wetting him to the balls.  Inez looked up to see
Mister Jason's face slowly reddening, his nostrils widening.  Suddenly, all
she could see was his pubes; he pinned her head to him, while his cock
swelled and pulsed, pouring his seed down Inez's spasming throat, throwing
his head back in ecstasy and hissing "Yessssss!!!"

	Inez hung there, pinned, for centuries.  Little sparks flashed
before
her eyes, against a dimming background as consciousness waned.  Mister Jason
let go of her and she dropped back, collapsing onto her back, semi-
conscious.  Jason threw himself prone atop her; she came slowly back to
herself to the feel of his hard hands mauling her nipples.  "I ought to fuck
you, too.  It would serve the little bastard right if I got kids on you.
You'd better give some thought to birth control; next time he pisses me off
I'm going to feel your cunt -- and maybe your ass!"

	Inez said nothing, and didn't move; she was still trying to recover
from the languor that lack of oxygen had imposed upon her.  But if Mister
Jason had gone looking for pussy, he'd have found hers wet and receptive.
Instead, he slapped her -- not terribly hard, merely to make a point -- and
announced, "Get control of that little bastard of a husband of yours, or
I'll be back!"  Rising, he rearranged his clothing, turned and strode out,
leaving the door open and her still lying on the floor.

	That wasn't the end of it, of course.  Inez braced Raoul with his
mistake, and went as far as telling him that Jason had visited her, raising
Hell and making threats -- but left out the throat rape.  Raoul thought it
was humorous until she got angry and cut him off for a week.  Eventually,
Raoul made an appearance before Jason to mend fences -- which told Jason
pretty much what Raoul knew and what he didn't; Jason knew that if Raoul
knew that he'd molested his wife, he'd have made a fool of himself gunning
for Jason and perhaps forced Jason to kill him.  Therefore, Raoul didn't
know -- and if Inez was going to keep Jason's actions to herself once, she'd
do it multiple times...

	Two weeks later, Raoul stepped in it again over some errand Armand
had
sent him on -- Inez didn't know what it was, but damage control had been
required.  Jason found her in the sitting room of their quarters and left
her draped over a chair back, exhausted, with a bright red ass and a cunt
full of semen, but treasuring the memory of three wild orgasms.  Two weeks
after that, punishment for some peccadillo of Raoul's left her kneeling in
her own bed, cum leaking from her distended ass and bright red whip weals
all over her back -- but yes, she'd orgasmed THEN, too!  After that, it was
open season; Jason stopped seriously looking for reasons -- except perhaps
for reasons to send Raoul out of the house for a few hours...

	Inez continued to punish Raoul by withholding sex; the primary
reason
was to hide whatever marks Jason left on her -- but the secondary,
unacknowledged reason was that her abuser provided such incredible sex mixed
with his abuse that Inez wasn't terribly interested in Raoul's less-inspired
efforts; why fight for one orgasm, when she could be carried along to
several?  Raoul, faced with this lack of interest, began to wander, using
his position to obtain relief from those lower on the totem pole than he
was, using much the same tactics as Jason was.  Armand's denial of the
Wench's services struck home with Raoul, therefore.

	This slowly deteriorating situation had been going on for just over
four years, but the threads were seriously fraying...  Inez's hold on Raoul
had weakened quite a bit -- another denial atop a long series was just life
as usual, and Raoul had learned to cope, in any case, so he was drifting
further and further out of control.  Six months before, after a more
outrageous screw-up, Jason had therefore dealt with Raoul directly, using
the tools that he knew Raoul would respect; he'd physically beaten the
smaller man into submission and then anally raped him, a common practice for
Jason that backfired somewhat in Raoul's case because of the effect that it
had on Raoul's self-image.  Raoul was effectively off-line for several days
afterward, while he worked to cope with this total violation of his
machismo, and for some time after he was alternately furtive and vicious.  A
month and a half later, Jason tried another tactic, one that was ultimately
worse; he'd beaten Raoul senseless, bound him, applied a ring gag, and
throat fucked him.  This made Raoul a cocksucker in his own eyes; it took
days to pry him out of his room, and nothing could remove the shame.  Jason
shrugged and gave up on THAT.  Besides, Armand had upbraided him severely
for the acts, in the process revealing that he was fully aware of Jason's
diversions with Inez...

	Armand had detected the activity almost immediately, but he let it
pass without comment because he wanted to give Jason the freedom to operate
without his actions being limited by the knowledge that his employer and
mentor was observing -- but Armand saw EVERYTHING that went on in his
mansion; Jason's attempts to avoid detection by killing one camera circuit
activated another that he was unaware of.  This kind of thing amused Armand
greatly; for him there was nothing better than setting someone up to think
that they were getting away with something, then filming their antics. Jason
actually surprised Armand in the mode of his dealings with Inez; Jason's
normal pattern was to be uniformly vicious with his victims, testing them to
destruction by inventing and implementing torture after torture in a rapid
sequence until they cracked and became mindless putty -- and sex had very
little to do with it, except as a source of pain and humiliation. Jason's
pattern of activity with Inez was different, however; certainly he beat her
and the sex was brutal -- Armand suspected that Jason was constitutionally
incapable of being gentle.  But the physical violence was mild, almost
recreational, and the emphasis was on sex.  Armand was fascinated; he was
unable to figure out what hold the stocky little Chicana had on his chief
henchman; seldom did one of Jason's little projects hold his interest for
more than four hours, much less four years....  There were a couple of
certainties in the situation, however; it was deteriorating rapidly, and
forbidding Jason the use of Inez wouldn't stop it.  Raoul was the primary
point of failure -- the man was as vicious as he was stupid, and that made
him too blunt an instrument for most of Armand's purposes in the first
place; acquiring him had been a mistake.  Perhaps this new tactic of
exposing his daughter to various dangers and humiliations would be
effective; certainly efforts with his wife had failed...  And as for
forbidding Jason his pleasure, that was unwise.  Jason would be driven to
disobey, driving a wedge between himself and Armand -- something Armand
preferred to avoid; good help was SO hard to find, and Jason was one in a
million, being as savvy and intelligent as he was vicious.

	There was one hole card out in the situation, however, and Inez was
holding it.  Despite Jason's admonition to pursue birth control, Inez
hadn't, for two reasons:  First, she was a good Catholic woman, and the Pope
said it was a bad thing.  And second, because she could not have hidden it
from her husband forever, and the realization that she was using birth
control would have brought all kinds of ideas to Raoul's jealous mind, some
of which had a basis.  Inez had merely hoped and prayed and exercised what
little control she had over the situation to ensure that Jason didn't use
her when she was fertile.

	Six weeks ago, however, she'd failed totally; Jason had decided that
he would assault her womanhood and she'd been too slow to react to come up
with a way to divert him (usually, complaining of excessive tenderness in
another orifice sufficed to divert him to it via reverse psychology; Jason
would have been mortified to discover just how manipulable he was using that
tactic).  Suddenly, the riding crop he'd been using on her went flying, his
hands settled on her tetas from behind, and he had entered her, quickly, and
subjected her to his usual pounding attack, something that lasted through
two orgasms before he emptied his cojones into her.  And three weeks ago,
her monthly failed to occur...

	All of this flickered through Inez's mind as she entered her
daughter's bedroom.  "Bianca, Sweetheart, we have a problem."

	"Mama?"  Bianca looked up from the television.

	Inez settled onto the bed, sighing.  "Your father has angered Mister
Armand.  Since punishing him or punishing me is ineffective, now they've
come to you."

	"What?  How?"  Bianca's eyes popped.

	"Papa refused to come when the puta called him, telling him Mister
Armand wanted something.  Now, since Papa wouldn't do it, YOU get to follow
the puta around for a week, cleaning up after her."

	Bianca rolled her eyes.  "She's a slave, Mama.  You SHOULD be
calling
her 'the Wench'."

	"'The Wench' may be WHO she is, but WHAT she is is a puta, a whore,"
Inez asserted.

	Bianca eyed her mother sidelong.  "Mama, I don't think I'd point
fingers."  Bianca had discovered her mother and Mister Jason some time back.
Mister Jason hadn't seen her, but Inez had, and it had led to a whole series
of mother-daughter conversations.  Bianca knew why punishing her mother had
been ineffective -- 'punishment' no longer truly described the activity...

	"Well, she will be doing what she does.  You're going to see..."
Inez
sighed, shook her head.

	"Mister Jason fuck her?" Bianca asked rhetorically.

	Inez's hand flashed out, but Bianca ducked, and continued, "I've
seen
him with YOU..."  Inez took another swing, but it was reflexive.

	Inez grumbled, "I'm not happy about you being exposed to... that.
But
I don't think Mister Jason uses the puta."  She looked vaguely pleased, then
frowned.  "Mister Armand doesn't just sex his women, any more than Mister
Jason.  They both do a lot more.  Terrible things.  Abuse.  And if one of
them takes an interest in you..."

	Bianca rolled her eyes.  "Oh, Mama!  If Mister Armand liked young
girls, we'd know it.  It will be all right.  I can handle it."

	"Well, maybe," Inez agreed reluctantly.  "Still, you will be exposed
to... unpleasant things."

	"When?"

	"Tomorrow morning, from six until seven, then again after school,"
Inez replied.

	Bianca shrugged.  "I'd better go to bed, then."

	Inez got up and left, shaking her head.

	Elsewhere in the house, Jason was upbraiding Raoul: "Your time in
our
Master's house is growing short, fool!  What possessed you to ignore
instructions coming from Him?"

	Raoul shrugged, attempting unsuccessfully to appear unruffled.  "I
figured the slut was merely overreaching herself.  It was an honest
mistake."

	"She re-couched the requirement in order to ensure that there was no
misunderstanding!  And you STILL insisted on assuming that she was merely
lazy!  I've almost become resigned to your stupidity, but when you expose it
to the Master in this manner..."  He shook his head.  Perhaps he should beat
the fool again?  "Now, your daughter will pay the price of your disregard --
you realize that she will receive a somewhat... unprecedented sexual
education during her tenure as the Wench's servant..."

	Raoul released a chunk of his anger, "If she is molested in any
way...!"

	Jason waved dismissal.  "That is not the point of the exercise; she
will be as much a virgin at the end of her tenure as she is now.  But she
will certainly be less virginal in her outlook, having witnessed the things
that she undoubtedly WILL witness."

	Raoul sneered, "Well, if it cannot be avoided, at least I can
anticipate that she will learn a few things that her mother has apparently
forgotten."

	Jason's face froze more than it's already expressionless wont.
"Perhaps she is withholding her efforts awaiting someone worthy of them."

	This was a bit much.  Jason watched Raoul's face reflect the new
doors
that suspicion opened in his mind.  It was an ugly sight.  "What do you
mean?"

	"Nothing.  Perhaps only the fact that if your sex life is not what
it
should be, it might be a reflection of your performance."  He sneered.  "It
seems that nowadays you can only get your satisfaction from those who are
defenseless before you.  One has to wonder whether you are unwilling to
perform properly, or unable."  He paused a moment, then got back on track,
"The subject at hand, however, is your performance of your duties as your
Master's servant, not as a husband.  I'm tired of putting up with the poor
quality of your efforts, and I suspect that even the indignities that your
daughter will suffer over the next week will be insufficient to teach you
anything.  If that is the case, your days of comfort in our Master's house
are numbered..."  Jason turned from the dapper little man with a wave of
dismissal, and stalked from the room, fuming.  Dammit!  Tonight, he couldn't
even abuse Inez!  And the Wench was sacrosanct; her part in this was that of
the injured party.  Consuela?  No, Jorge!  Armand had effectively denied him
any sexual abuse of the chauffer (who WAS bisexual; it wasn't as if he was
Raoul, and capable of insanity over a little butt-fuck), but he COULD slap
him around a bit...

	Armand, having watched the interview on a monitor in his office,
shook
his head.  Perhaps it WAS time for Raoul to move on.  Physically disposing
of him would be unpleasantly complicated...  Perhaps...  Armand began
turning scenarios over in his mind.  One thing was clear; the optimum
situation would be one that allowed Inez to remain in his house -- the
daughter, too, for now.  The idea that the woman could replace her husband
in most of his 'indoor' duties occurred almost immediately; however, he and
Jason needed to discuss certain aspects of THAT, too, for Armand had never
used Inez -- but he would, if she were a servant; it was more or less a
requirement of her employment that he impose his will upon her in a direct,
physical manner, periodically.  Given the fact that Jason had an unusual
fondness for the woman, there could be complications...  Armand had detected
the suspicions that Jason's uncharacteristically foolish remark had
triggered in Raoul as easily as his majordomo had; If Raoul actually caught
Jason in the act in the near future, it would be difficult to impossible for
Armand to justify favoring Jason in the resulting altercation, despite the
fact that Raoul had more or less visited the whole thing upon himself...
Armand shook his head.  Things were getting complicated here at the Wilson
mansion...

	"Wife!" Raoul roared, entering his quarters.

	"Husband?" Inez replied, in no less warning a tone.  Raoul's recent
reverses at the hands of Jason had even further eroded her respect for his
manhood; the response was almost a direct challenge.

	"Have you been sleeping around on me?  Offering your body to others
while I was absent?"

	Inez's face shuttered.  After a moment's recovery and examination of
the content of the accusation, she affected outrage, "Of course not!  I'm a
good catholic woman and wife!"  Inside, she was consoling herself with the
limited truth of the denial; it had never quite come to that -- she'd never
actively offered herself to Jason.  No, he'd always come to her, always been
the aggressor...  She shied away from a close examination of just how easy
she had made those attacks on occasion...

	But Raoul has seen enough to confirm his suspicions, accurately or
not.  "Adulterous slut!" he roared, wading in, "I'll teach YOU!"  The
ensuing altercation between them was unprecedented in its violence; recent
events had eroded Inez's respect for her husband to the point that, rather
than merely enduring them, she returned his blows, giving as good as she
got.  When Raoul finally retired to the couch, it was ostensibly because he
preferred not to share a bed with an adulteress, but more accurately because
he didn't want to reveal the extent of his injuries; among other things, he
was smarting from the effects of not one but two solid kicks to the
testicles.

	The altercation attracted the attention of others on the servant
level, too.  No one actually made to enter the Hernandez's rooms, or even
called attention to themselves, but several gathered outside in case the
sounds began to indicate the serious injury, or worse, of one of the
participants.  Notable among this group was Jason, who stood there,
clenching and unclenching his fists until things quieted down.  Such was the
level of his agitation that the other observers slowly faded away --
including Jorge, who sensibly went into hiding, robbing Jason of an outlet
for his frustrations.

	For the wench once known as Felicia, Tuesday morning too quickly
followed a night of pleasant dreams, brought on by the evening's
accomplishments.  Her Master had used her ass for quite some time before
dumping his seed in it, while obviously enjoying the plight of the woman who
had once been his wife...  The whole episode led to the realization that
despite the fact that she'd never set foot in it, the woman Sharon was
mistress of this house; the only odd thing about it was the fact that Master
had apparently never realized this.  Afterward, Master had sent her to
Charles, her overseer, with instructions that he was to see to it that she
was used further.  Sir (she referred to Charles as Sir, by convention; he
was her Training Master) used her thoroughly once before retiring to bed and
once at three o'clock, allowing her to sleep across the foot of his bed
rather than banishing her to her cage.

	A finger gently poked her and a soft voice murmured, "We-ench...
We-
ench..."

	Wench opened one eye.  "Go 'way -- it's still dark."

	Charles opened one eye.  "Up, Wench.  The child has limited time
available to her before she goes to school.  What time is it, Lass?"

	"Six fifteen," Bianca related diffidently.  "Is it all right to be
here?  Wench wasn't in her room..."  There was no bed in the Wench's room;
that was a big surprise to Bianca.  The four by four foot cage that occupied
the floor of the Wench's room didn't look too comfortable...  And another
thing:  Mister Charles was obviously naked under the covers, as the Wench
was, above...

	"Yes, Lass, it's fine; it comes within the realm of your duties,"
Charles replied.  To Wench, he added, "Take her to the Media Room and have
her clean up your mess there, then get a shower and have her shave you.  She
needs to be off to school by seven."

	Wench rose, knelt on the floor quickly, bowed her head from that
position, rose, and withdrew.  Once outside the room, Wench cupped a hand to
her bare crotch, exclaiming, "We need to get to the bathroom, I'm in flood!"
Bianca giggled and the pair raced to the nearby bath, Wench waddling around
her cupped hands.  Entering the bath, Wench seated herself on the toilet and
waved Bianca into the bathroom.  "C'mon, it's no time to stand on ceremony.
Get me a washrag will you?"

	Bianca took a washrag out of the cabinet, and shoved it under the
faucet, turning on the hot water.  "Why do you do this?"

	"What, have sex?"  Wench eyed the young Hispanic girl.  Bianca was
in
the full flower of her youth; she was a perfect blend of her parent's best
attributes, with the soft, round breasts and perky ass that her mother had
at her age, but mounted on a leaner, tighter body.  Bianca had her father's
spark, layered over her mother's fatalistic temperament -- it made for a
good combination.  "I -- learned that it is what I do," the Wench finished
lamely.

	Bianca sat on the tub edge and looked down at the Wench's crotch.
She
was sitting open-legged on the toilet, letting clotted semen drizzle out of
her openings.  "Why do you let them abuse you?"

	"Master showed me that I... like it."

	"Really?" Bianca asked.  "I understand the sex, kind of, but the
other
stuff?"  She sat there a moment, then shook her head.  "Well, Mama seems to
like it, too..."

	"Some of it is the man, Hon.  I think maybe your Mama knows that."
The
Wench eyed the girl for a moment.  "Jason?"

	"Uh huh."

	The Wench shuddered.  "I don't see it -- your Mama must be worse
than
me!  Jason is..."  Another shudder.

	Bianca shook her head.  "I know; I've seen enough.  But it's funny
--
when he abuses Mama, it's like he's going through the motions.  He just kind
of gets her going.  Then they have sex -- and Mama loves it, you can
tell..."

	Wench shook her head.  "Damn.  That's a surprise."  She paused a
moment.  "I started out thinking I was going to bowl Master over, and he'd
set me up for life.  But he led me deeper and deeper, demanding more and
more...  Something broke; I realized that I needed HIM, not the other way
around.  And I would do anything to please him.  Anything."  She shook her
head.  "Master likes his women to struggle and fight.  I... can't.  I live
to serve, now."  She sighed.  "I'm an occasional convenience to my Master;
my role is to service his guests.  Last night was a good night; he used me
well."

	"Did he beat you?"

	"No."  The Wench smiled.  "He just used me.  Then he sent me to Sir
to
use again, knowing Sir would keep me in his bed."  She grabbed some toilet
paper and dabbed at her vagina.  "We need to hurry; you need to shave me,
then go to the media room and clean up some vomit there.  I should be out of
the shower by then, and you can French braid my hair."

	"Vomit?"

	The Wench hung her head.  "He went deep in my throat when he came.
I... lost it."  She raised her head.  "I'll be training today.  Master no
doubt intends that you see it."  She nodded toward the medicine cabinet.
"Shaving gear is in there."

	Bianca collected a can of foam and the razor, and turned to the
Wench.
"I've... never.  Mama doesn't."

	Mirth lit the Wench's eyes.  "Well, I do.  Your Mama might want to
do
it for Jason.  But she'd better ask him first."  She glanced at the sink.
"Hot water.  You smear the soap on and I'll hold things steady while you
swipe at it."

	Bianca ran the water, turning to smear the lather on the
unfamiliarly
smooth pudenda of the Wench.  Embarrassment flickered across her features.
"Don't you usually do this?"

	The Wench smiled.  "Yes.  But I was told to have you do it, so
that's
how it will be.  Get the razor."  Bianca took it and bent her head to hide
her embarrassment while she worked the upper slope.  Wench didn't let her
off the hook: "Feel it; make sure it's slick.  I won't go out and have
Master angry because it's scruffy."  Bianca did as she was told, blushing
furiously.  "Okay," the Wench continued, "I'll stretch the lips, and you can
work on that.  Don't cut me!"  The redhead was thin, and didn't have much in
the way of outer labia, but she had long, thin, leathery inner lips with
little round, dime-sized extensions that made natural grip points for the
exercise.  Bianca made a note to herself to really give herself a close
examination in a mirror; she was pretty sure SHE didn't look like that down
there...  Biting her lip, she laid her left thumb along the bulge at the top
of the woman's slit and started drawing the razor along the area on the
outside of the Wench's right inner lip.

	The Wench's eyes closed, and she hissed, "Easy, my clit is pretty
sensitive!"  Bianca let up on the thumb pressure, and the Wench asked
conversationally, "Do you masturbate?"

	"Um, yes."  Bianca kept her head down, concentrating on her work as
an
escape from embarrassment.

	"Well, this week, you might see things that make you want to.  I'd
do
it in private, if I were you; somebody might get the idea that you're
available," the Wench cautioned.  The pair switched lips, and she continued,
“Some women don't orgasm; some can only cum once or twice, and they're
wasted.  Me, any time I cum, it only whets my appetite for the next one."
She caught Bianca's eye.  "Women who can't cum and don't miss it aren't
distracted, and can do big things in the world -- secure our place as equals
with men.  But the rest of us need a man -- or at least another woman...
I've made my choice; others can do the big things -- I'll serve my Master.
It gets me the kind of fulfillment I'm looking for..."

	Bianca finished the other side during this soliloquy, so the Wench
sat
back, announcing, "Okay, we're done.  I'll hop in the shower and rinse off
while you get the mess in the media room.  You know where to find the
cleaning stuff, right?"  At Bianca's nod, she added, "Hurry back, I want you
to braid my hair pretty, like yours!"  The pair parted, the girl dashing for
the stairs.

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

	Tuesday was a normal morning at the home of the distaff Wilsons.
Sharon got up and prepared Nora’s breakfast and saw her off, as usual,
before settling back with coffee and the newspaper.  This was valuable
research, not mere recreation; current events were an essential part of
discovering leverage for Armand's corporate charitable contributions.
Besides, it kept Sharon from going over the revelations of the night
before...

	Nora arrived at school relatively early, and glanced around for
someone to ally herself with.  The usual group hadn't arrived yet, but
Tenisha Porter and Draper Travis were seated together, not holding hands,
but touching from shoulder to hip, their privacy about them like a shield.
She hung back for a moment, but Tenisha looked up and waved her over.  "So,
how's it going with Nate?"

	"Good," Nora was momentarily pensive, then smiled.  "Real good.
Surprisingly good."

	Tenisha eyed Draper for a moment, then ventured, "I'm surprised.
He's
been good, then?  I know a bunch of girls who won't believe THAT!"

	"Well, it's a difference in approach," Nora chuckled.  "I give him
positive reinforcement."

	"Uh huh."  Tenisha was dubious.  "You seen him since Saturday night?
Got any idea what he's telling his buds?"  She speared Draper with a look.

	Draper threw up his hands.  "Don' look at me!  I ain't seen him
since
yesterday mornin'!"

	Nora smiled.  "I believe that; he was with me last night."

	"Damn, Girl!" Tenisha exclaimed, "His mouth gets running, you won't
have any reputation left!"

	Nora feigned innocence.  "I didn't say we had sex!"

	Tenisha snorted.  "The Hell you didn't!  It was right there in the
tone of your voice!"  She grinned.  "Well, at least you won't be catching
any shit from sistahs!  Nate wasn't exactly a hot property...."

	"Speak o' the Devil," Draper announced.  Nate's ratty Chevette hit
the
parking lot; he and Stick Williams piled out.  Various women scurried
around, arranging it so that they weren't looking Nate's way, but he had one
target only; he laid a hand on Nora's hip, nuzzled her ear, and murmured,
"Hey, Baby."

	Tenisha waited for Nate to start making noise, and Nora to peel his
hand off; neither happened.  Nate seemed perfectly happy to stand there with
Nora leaning back against him.  "So, Nate, no shit?"

	"Huh?"  Nate visibly shifted his attention from something -- the
feel
of Nora leaning against him? -- and answered, "Nah.  Why? Don' need it."

	Tenisha flicked a glance at Draper, whose eyes were laughing.
"Wow!"

	Stick Williams piped up, "Mus' be some good shit -- he won' even
talk
about it."

	Nate flicked him a mild glance.  "Ain't polite.  Besides, no need to
get you all jealous."  His eyes flicked to Nora, but she let it ride; it WAS
pretty mild, after all...

	Stick shrugged.  "I got Mary."

	It seemed like EVERYBODY exchanged a glance after that remark; Fat
Mary Nally wasn't considered a catch by the guys, and the girls were equally
surprised that she seemed to have gotten a grip on the narrow black -- after
all, they were about as different as you could get...  Mary Nally was
strawberry blonde, freckled, and rather unfortunately built, below the neck.
She had small, pretty hands and feet, but there were layered rolls of fat on
her torso that left her generally unappetizing.  By contrast, Stick was tall
and skeletal; fat was something unknown to him, physically.  Draper opened
his mouth, thought a moment, and shut it; the whole thing wasn't any of his
business.

	The group passed the next few minutes in quiet conversation before
separating for first period, but later, the groups reorganized by sex to
compare notes.  The guys did it first, in the locker room after gym:

	"So, Nate, you're lookin' pretty mellow, Man..." Draper teased.

	"Yeh," Nate grunted.  "I got no complaints; Nora's Mama even fed me
last night.  Shit, I might get fat, 'cept for the exercise."

	Stick flicked a glance at Nate.  "You two fuckin'?"

	"Are you and Mary?" Nate challenged.

	Stick flicked a glance at Teddy Frick, who was dressing on the other
end of the bench.  "I might be.  Mary's kinda sweet, once you get past the
excess baggage she's carryin'."

	"An' Teddy?  Where's HE fit in?" Draper asked.

	"I ain't tellin'," Stick grinned, but he REALLY didn't want that
pursued.

	But Teddy got seriously brave, for him, and leaped into the breach.
"Even Stick can't last forever.  I keep her occupied while he recharges!"

	Surprised laughter greeted this sally, and Nate responded, "Shit,
Mary's that hot?  I oughta..."  Uncharacteristically, Nate stopped dead in
mid sentence, flicking a glance around.  "Come to think of it, I'm doin'
just fine..."  As a further distraction, he rounded on Draper, "So, how
about you and Ol' Pancake Tits?"

	Draper, called out, forgot to watch his tongue.  "Ol' Pancake Tits
has
a FINE set of stiff nipples an' fucks like a goddamn..."  His eyes popped,
and he shut up, abruptly, to general laughter.

	Nate glanced around, and murmured conspiratorially, "Okay, Man, it's
just us -- an' Teddy, who I figure has a stake in things."  Both Teddy and
Stick nodded.  "I figure we can brag a LITTLE if we keep it in the
family..."  This brought general nods, so he continued, "Awright.  Nora
is... well, HOT!  She's a fuckin' miracle, an' there be a lot of just stupid
motherfuckers in THIS school, to let ME get to her first!"

	"Yeah, right!" Stick chortled.  "Like you're fuckin' her!"

	"Stick," Draper deadpanned, "Nate's fuckin' her.  He took her cherry
Saturday night.  I WAS THERE!"

	"Sheeit!  You seen it?  Damn!"  Stick was wide-eyed.

	"Well, I wasn't there for the main event, but I gave him the rubber,
and Nora was s-," Draper trailed off at Nate's warning headshake.  "The
sounds came up the stairs while I was with Tenisha, Man, you don' fake
those...  That was one happy little b-". Another warning shake from Nate
stopped Draper; he shook his head.  "I woke up an' the world was turnin'
backwards!  I'm gettin' language lessons from Nate!  Whatever happened to a
ho's a ho?"

	"Is 'Nisha a ho?" Nate challenged.

	"Awright," Draper growled.  "Ya made yer point, Man."

	"Yeh, maybe, but I'm out here on this limb an' you ain't said shit!
What happened when she took you upstairs?" Nate demanded.

	"We ran dead smack into her Pa, is what!" Draper laughed.  "But
'Nisha
-- an' 'Nisha's Ma -- didn't let that stop us!  You wasn't the only bruthuh
pickin' cherries Saturday night!"

	"Heh, I figured," Nate laughed.  Then he turned eyes like gunbarrels
on the other two.  "So what the fuck is going on 'tween YOU two and Fat
Mary?"

	Stick shrugged.  "Ain't no secret Mary likes dick," he began, "but
it
also ain't no secret she wants a steady supply.  Teddy offered me a ride
home when my ride suddenly turned up with a woman," he speared Draper with a
look, "so she wouldn't be able to practice usin' her man-trap on him."  He
glanced at Teddy, who sat, mum, absorbing what would become the 'official'
tale, and continued.  "Well, Mary had some beer up at her place, an' we
figured we was safe, there bein' two of us.  Turns out we wasn't; Mary
managed to get a piece or two from each of us.  When the word went out that
Mary was usin' her pussy to catch men, nobody mentioned the fact that it's
pretty good shit..."

	Teddy piped up, "She gives pretty good head, too!"

	Stick nodded, grinning.  Not quite as good as Teddy, but...
"Anyway,
I figure shit that works good is better than shit that just LOOKS good --
how many times you heard about hot-lookin' bitches that turned out to be
worthless when it came to givin' 'em the bone?"  He nudged Teddy.  "Ted an'
me got this deal goin' -- we both work her, equal time, keepin' her confused
over which one o' us she wants.  Everybody gets their share of fuckin';
everybody's happy.  I can't lose -- in the first place, she's white, in the
second, she has a nice crib, and in the third place there's the old saw,
'Heat in winter, shade in summer, an' a soft place to lie down year 'round!'
"

	Nate shook his head.  "When you look at it THAT way..."  He
shrugged.
"I got kinda lucky, that way, too -- I THINK."

	"Whazzat mean?" Draper asked.

	"Well, I figured we'd take shit from Nora's Mama, but she only
seemed
unhappy 'cause her Daddy was gonna give HER shit.  An' that didn't happen!
Nora's old man is some rich fucker, but him an' her ol' lady are divorced,
an' he keeps her an' Nora on a short leash.  Real rich folk stuff; they get
spied on all the time by private dicks an' shit.  Sunday, Nora's Daddy sent
this big fucker to see me an' tell me that it was okay, me datin' Nora.
'Course, the other half was if I fucked up, I was gonna get my ass stomped.
I got THAT loud an' clear, too."  He shook his head, remembering.  "BIG
fucker.  But, shit, if all I gotta do to stay out of the doghouse is be with
Nora, I can't find no downside to it."

	"No?" Draper wondered.  "Sounds like waitin' fer an ass-whippin' to
me..."

	"Nah," Nate demurred.  "I figure if she decides she don't want ME
around, things'll go easy as long as I ain't stupid about it -- only way
I'll catch trouble is if I decide to dump HER. But thing are GOOD -- why
would I want to fuck it up?"  He looked around the group.  "Okay, so, we all
got laid Saturday night.  Anybody ELSE get any since?"

	Draper raised his eyebrows.  "You got pussy--"

	"Last night.  Twice.  THEN her Mama fed me more spaghetti that I
ever
ate in my life!"  Nate preened, to general grins around the bench.

	Draper, shaking his head, glanced at his watch.  "Hey, we better get
outta here!  I got a woman now; don' need detention!"  The group began
scrambling into their clothes.