Keywords: M/F anal, oral, BDSM, humil Author: W R Jenkins Title: Sang Froid Disclaimer:(standard) Do not screw up. Do not do anything illegal. This includes specifically (but not limited to) reading on if you are under 18- 21 in some localities If you are underage you must leave now. If you're young and curious, this is not the place to get the straight story. You act like this and people will look at you strange and give you a wide berth. Also, don't try this at home. Some of this stuff is just plain wrong, most of it is unsafe in the present viral climate and some of it doesn't work in this universe. They are stories. They deal with ideas, fantasies and thoughts that might not even be pleasant in real life. Thoughts are like that. Fantasies are there so we can toy with the sensations without feeling or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation. End Sermon. Sang Froid - (cold.txt) - Hey, it's French. You're not expecting me to know what it means, are you? Or perhaps a contrast of the popular useage, composure, with a more literal translation, cold blood, is the metaphor. As in, where does 'remarkably in control of himself' cross over into 'vicious bastard'? I don't think the distinction will be too hard to see, but maybe the metaphor isn't the point. Maybe I just want to see women squirm. M/F, oral, anal, BDSM, humil Sang Froid Michael's forehead was as cool as autumn dew. There was no hint of even the intention of staining his collar. He was unruffled. Robert looked in awe at him. It was no secret what a troublesome bitch Madelyn, Michael's ex-wife, had become, but this was beyond shocking. It would be bad enough to have her show up demented, as she clearly was, but wearing that lewd outfit? It wasn't a covering. It was a presentation of her sexual parts. Whether that was her intent or part of her addled fury, Robert wasn't sure. She certainly was making no sense. She was making the most outrageous accusations in her gibber. "See what he makes me do. See what I have to go through." All the time twitching and shaking, making her body do the most rude dance and the words coming out garbled and jumbled. As if there could be any basis to her words. Michael was at the other end of the room when she made her time-stopping entrance. It wasn't that he dragged her in by force. For all his coolness, Robert knew Michael was boiling under the surface. He could hear the steel in Michael's tone as he told Madelyn to get back where she belonged. He had heard that edge in Michael's voice during the course of business. Nothing ever came to Michael's surface. Robert thought of him as the Samaurai warrior. His actions were decisive, a quick kill with no wasted effort. It was that action without disturbance that Robert was watching now. It was serious to Jessica, Michael's present wife. Robert could see the look of concern, even fear on her face as Robert chased Madelyn out of the cocktail party. It had to be so troubling to have that woman still hanging on when Jessica surely wanted to get on with life. And then Michael went on to other things. He finished the story he was telling Robert. It was as if it never happened. ----- "Can't I just leave this time?" Jessica was whining. Robert didn't turn his head. He stood where he was, waiting. "I mean, I bet she'd like to do it tonight," Jessica squeaked. With a sense of deepening doom, Jessica stepped forward. She would never learn. She didn't try to shirk her duties very often. She paid too dearly for it. She knew she was now liable for the mistake. She shuddered to think what the price could be. She opened Michael's coat and slid it down his shoulders. He stood like a mannikin, waiting to be undressed. He lifted his foot so she would not have to crease his trousers, but offered no aid. Jessica left him in his underwear and folded the trousers on top of his other clothes. Michael did not lift his feet when she pulled his underwear down. There was no worry about creasing them and they were fine around his ankles for the moment. Jessica had other work to do before she had to take them off him. It was a nice prick. It was a wonderful prick. Jessica loved to feel it wriggle and stretch its skin as she carressed it with her tongue. There were so many ecstatic memories of the joy it had given her. She liked the way it rose, like a cobra from a basket, as her licking made it fill with vigor. She took it in her mouth to make it stand up hard and wooden, like the prow of a brave adventurer's ship it was. She wanted to feel the life pulsing in her mouth as it readied for action. She wanted to suck it to urgency. She wanted it eager and rash and seething for release. It was a wonderful prick. She loved it with all her heart. She wanted it to feel the same about her. The man who wore it was a different matter. He held her love for his cock hostage. He was most cruel to her. He demanded terrible tribute to grant her time with her love. But it was worth it and more. It was a wonderful prick. Michael stepped out of his underwear. Jessica would put it in the hamper. He didn't glance at her. He walked over to the supine figure of his ex-wife. She was unconscious. The cute little strap between her legs still cut deeply, pulled tight between her labia and deepening the crease between her buttocks. The power was off, but that strap still held the devices inside Madelyn. Michael smiled slowly as he set his grip to pull the strap's buckle open. It was like lacing a corset to get them in one and like strangling a hog to get them out, he mused. Madelyn only stirred at the pinch of the strap being even more tightly compressed. Michael considered the cage of straps that pressed Madelyn's breasts forward and up, but removing it would serve no purpose. And he might think of something else to do in the meantime. Instead he gently peeled the leather from the rut in Madelyn's skin and then jerked the strap, appliances and all, out of her. The sudden de-violation snapped Madelyn awake. "So you are going to fuck me," she said in not nearly enough of an injured tone. "I wasn't sure you weren't just going to laugh at me." "Have I ever been a liar?" Michael asked. "No, Michael," Madelyn answered seriously. She saw the snake as well. Only to her it was the fabled fascination of the snake's gaze. She knew the danger. She understood the outcome. She couldn't help sacrificing herself to this man. It was some need of oblivion, some siren song that she could not resist. Yes, it was a wonderful cock, but it was only the excuse for her to run to self-destruction under the spell of this man. She tried to fight the domination with every fiber of her being, but too many of those fibers screamed out to give in. She felt he had enslaved her, unwilling, in the web of his control, but she was the one that would not flinch from whatever he demanded. Yet there was no thought whether she gave too much when he climbed over her and pushed his cock inside her. It was the only validation she needed. He was fucking her. In all his lordly glory, he had consented to use her as his sperm depository. She had passed the test. The others were like wooden figures - or exotic statuary. What did it matter what they thought? She had pleased Michael and now he was fucking her. Those people were almost strangers. At least they were to the divorced wife. She wouldn't have to see them again, at least not very often. And there was more benefit than a sense of accomplishment. Michael made love to her pleasure, not to her. None of it mattered when he was inside you, touching you, urging whimpers of joy from you. It was un-cut ecstasy and not alloyed with personal issues. Lust transcended divorce. Like a drug, that high made her forget even the burning fire of passion she had endured at his order. The thrusting cock and the twinge- just now- of a twisted nipple jerked her clear of the ordeal of vibrators and the dis-orienting jolts of current flashing through her body. She was in a wonderful present, not the robotic past of her humiliating display. They were cruel things, the plugs that Michael had made. A vibrator in each nether orifice was a base line from which the shocks spiked up. She remembered her first fitting and how she wondered at the curve of metal that pressed her clit when the plug was inserted. One jolt later and she understood. She was not at the border of pleasure and pain. She had been thrown into pain with such velocity that she formed a singularity that warped pleasure into a worm hole around her. She hated and thirsted for it in the same way she regarded Michael. But there was nothing of that in Michael's knowing hands. He was the master of her body in every sense. He knew secrets she was yet to discover. He used them all to send her wailing into a land where only the pleasure mattered. "You can sleep here," Michael said when he was done. Madelyn bowed her head. It wasn't a question or an order. It was a kindness. It was permission. Her breath came a bit ragged as she waited for him to leave. She understood more now. The peaks of joy she found in his twisting, biting and abusing her breasts now unmasked their true intent. He had freed her from the bondage bra and blood was flowing painfully into every site of the abuse. On top of the normal pains of the strap indentations, it made it impossible to take a steady breath. She knew she had to wait for him to leave the room before she could grab her breasts and try to squeeze out the pain. He knew it as well. He stood long enough to insure her torment before he turned and walked naked from the room. His clothes would be put away and Jessica would be waiting. He mounted the steps from the basement and walked to the stairs up to their bedroom. Jessica would be waiting for that sound. "Clean me." He wasn't going to soil the sheets with these drippings. If the sheets were to be soiled, he would deposit new ones. Still worried about her earlier transgression, Jessica was quick to her knees in front of him. Her usual distaste for cleaning up another woman's mess was lost in her concern for her punishment. She sucked his limp organ into her mouth whole and cleaned it with her tongue as she pulled back. She licked his balls to gather any overflow that had coated them. Then she licked his cock once more. He would say when he wanted her to stop. Maybe this time she would have time with her love. She would kiss his cock until it was hard and then suck it. If Michael allowed, she would suck that wonderful cock until she pleased it enough to erupt in her mouth. Michael stopped her. "I'm clean now. We can do whatever else we do on the bed," he said. "Should I take off my nightgown?" Jessica asked. She was not to assume anything. She waited for Michael sitting on the edge of the bed in a full-length white silk nightdress with a lace bodice. Michael said to wait naked made her look expectant. To answer her was unnecessary. Words would not change his intention nor make her any better prepared. He took one of her hands and put his arm around her. At the bed he put her hand on the cover and bent her at the waist. He pulled up her nightgown himself. Jessica's only thought was: I will feel him inside me tonight. It was so cute the way he skulked around her entry. Still very mushy, her beloved prick was mashing against her vulva in a simulation of the thrusting he wanted to give her. She knew that because of the way he was so impatient and bold when he was inside her. His energy, his accuracy in finding the most tender spots, he was a cock that knew what he wanted and took it. In that was he was like Michael. But her true love gave her joy without price and it was Michael that exacted a toll for her enjoyment. Oh, but she'd pay that price, even whatever awaited her for her insubordination earlier, for the joy of having her love come into her and drive her to the utmost heights. He was getting firmer now. His upper side riding in the furrow like the back of a whale breeching. "Do you care where I take you?" Michael asked. It was a test, but Jessica considered it anyway. Her love was a little careless when he went the narrow way, but no, anything for that wonderful prick. Her discomfort, even pain, was a small thing beside the joy her beloved cock had given her. "Not at all, my love," she answered. "Then let's stop pussy-farting around and suck me hard," he said. "I'm in a mood tonight." 'A mood' did not rest easy on Jessica's ears, so she was taken by surprise when Michael gently took her nightgown off her and laid her back on the bed. Then he got over her and took her as gently as man ever took woman. It was an interlude from another life. Gentle sighs and little cries came from her as her true love comforted her with his lazy expeditions inside her. Michael was almost distracting her with his nibbles on her ear and kisses down her neck, but it only added to the warmth of being filled by that wonderful prick. It was a romantic tryst with her true lover. It was like her love for once was returning her affection. She felt as if that prick loved her as he slowly built her passion. Then he was her strong sea captain, blazing a wake in the ocean of her sex. She marvelled at his power. She swooned at his mastery. She came, loudly, at his insistence. She was so very deeply in love with Michael's prick as he shrank after marking her his own and slipped from her heat. There was no joy but that joy. Jessica was open to the world. "I am so glad I married you," Michael said softly across the pillow. "You can be so very, very good." Jessica was waiting for some punchline like: but when you're bad, you're better. She was jangled by Michael's reminder. "But you know what you did tonight," Michael brought back the fear that passion had obscured. He didn't soothe it. He didn't announce her penance. He only brought the worry back to her mind. It was a plunge in an icy lake after a long, hot bath. "We'll discuss that later," Michael reached for the light. "Goodnight." ----- There was no reason to dwell on it. It was the price and the price had to be paid. Look forward, not back, Jessica reminded herself. But looking forward was no less bleak than hearing the echoes of Michael's decree in her ears. It wasn't even amusing. She forced a titter as Robert stumbled again trying to get his pants over his shoes. She should be amused, even if she wasn't. Michael hadn't said 'pretend to want Robert'. He had said 'convince Robert you want him'. She had to live the part. Parts of her were dying. A little child she was, was being slaughtered as Robert eagerly undressed. The wanton woman, the sleep-around wife, she wasn't pretending to become them. She was becoming them. It was only that she was becoming them unwillingly, and that made it worse. She didn't want to. Her true love hadn't asked her. It was only some silly rule that she had to obey to have her love. She felt like vomiting. She choked down bile to quip that Robert should have thought of that first as he sat down to finally take off his shoes. Jessica was stilll in bra and panties. Robert had given no indication if she was to take them off or if he wanted to do it himself. She watched as Robert pulled off his underwear and exposed a hard and ready cock. She would soon be naked by whomever's hand. "I thought you might want to unwrap me yourself," she told him. The fires blazed brighter in Robert's eyes as he digested her remark. Jessica was afraid he would cum just from the thought. "The thrill of discovery," Robert tried to say without his voice breaking. It was very obvious that he wanted her with a desire that was epic. Jessica wondered briefly if she was some reward, Michael solving two problems with a single solution. She had no time to consider. Robert was cooing over her exposed breasts and she had to return his interest. Her hand went to his standing cock as his went to the waistband of her panties. She stroked his cock while he pushed her panties down. "You've no idea how much I've always wanted you," Robert panted. "Au contraire, I have a good feeling for how much you want me now," Jessica flirted while giving Robert's cock a quick squeeze. If she were an actress, perhaps she could make herself believe in her role. Then she would feel the need she was pretending. She could live the part outside herself and then walk back to being who she was when she arrived. But she was not an actress. Robert's mouth was all too real and slobbering on her real breasts. Her body was being groped, not some fictious person she invented. And she had to pretend it pleased her. She could not let her body shrink away as it was desperate to. "Don't you want me to say hello to your friend?" Jessica forced the words out of her mouth as Robert clumsily fingered her. He looked around before he understood her meaning. Then he grabbed her shoulders as she sank to her knees. "I don't think I can stand that," he said, "We'll do that another time. I'd love to return the favor. I'm told I'm very good." For a flash, Jessica considered asking him to do it this time. It would be so much less personal to suck his cock than to have to let him put it in her. But she was to satisfy his desire and he clearly desired to fuck her. "I can't believe this is happening to me," Robert sighed as his cock sank into Jessica's soft warmth. It was the one statement that stood for both of them. Robert was gentle and loving and, if possible, Jessica felt even dirtier for not liking him more. Her name, her virtue, her honor were all gone as his cock took her. On top of it, she sacrificed them falsely and was playing this poor man for a fool. And she still had to feign contentment. "Take me hard!" Jessica cried with pretended passion, more to hurry Robert than to play her part. "Oh yes! I'll show you!" the poor fool answered and lunged harder against her body. "And what do I tell him when he wants to see me again?" Jessica asked Michael. "You mean you weren't so impressed that you're begging for permission to see him?" Michael teased. "I always want your permission," Jessica chose her words carefully, "But I don't think it is my place to make such choices." "Very good," Michael smiled as if she had correctly recited a piece from memory, "You may tell him I caught you coming in and beat you. That you don't wish to risk it again." Delinquent, caught, beaten, her sad story was getting better with every chapter Michael added. And she knew he wasn't above making her story plausible with bruises as proof. Not that he had ever raised a hand to her. His menace was more subtle. He controlled the prick she loved. His threat to deny her was more effective than beating would ever be. But should that pale, she knew he was ready to apply the lash. She had seen him, back when Madelyn was still the enemy and no treatment was too harsh for Jessica to condone. At least not many treatments. She did flinch when she realized it was not a game. Perhaps if she had not been convinced of the unreality of his threats, she might have been cooler in her enthusiasm. But she knew now how little difference it would have made. There was no pitty-pat pretense as Madelyn earned the right to be fucked. The lash streaked red across her pale back as she struggled with very genuine frenzy to escape the straps that held her to the post. She screamed very genuine screams as the whip cut her flesh. There was no quip about how good it felt when it stopped when Michael let her down. She collapsed in an exhausted, sobbing pile for Michael to gather up and lay on her bench. Then he fucked her as he promised. She writhed in unimaginable pain as he rubbed her raw back on the bench's leather cover with every violent thrust. Jessica felt only pity, and fear, as she watched. She had to remind herself constantly that Madelyn was not asking him to stop. Moreover, she had to try and remember that this was her rival. Jessica had bested her in the duel of sex. Michael was hers now. This was what Madelyn had to do to get Michael to fuck her. But no attempt at arrogance on Jessica's part could counter the pity she felt for Madelyn. The price was too high; her treatment too brutal. Jessica was horrified at what Madelyn went through to have her husband make love to her. And in part it was guilt, since Michael was still Madelyn's husband. Michael had chosen Jessica. His relapses with his wife were few and always in Jessica's presence. She was the one he made love to every night. Jessica was the one he wanted now. That was the bargain. When he wanted. When she had earned it. When she had done exactly as she was told. She would have hope that Michael would fuck her. Jessica would also agree. For the possiblity of sex with Michael, Madelyn would divorce Michael and let him marry Jessica. Madelyn would become the mistress, although the strangest kind, and Jessica would be the legitimate mate. From the other woman's seat it seemed a small concession. When she became the wife, it grated on her. Madelyn was in the basement always eager, ever available, always there. Jessica's pique at those facts was the source of all but one of her transgressions. And now she had another thought to haunt her. It had struck her like a hammer when Madelyn made her ordered 'impromptu' appearance at the party. Instead of seeing Madelyn as the object of her pity, she saw herself. She saw herself dancing lewdly, totally exposed, to the jolt of unseen electricity and barely being able to stand as the sensations pummelled her. She saw herself looking incoherent and uncontrolled as she tried to deal with the invisible forces ripping at her body. She surely was on the same path. Her identification with Madelyn now had another prop. That afternoon she had offered herself to a man in whom she had no interest because Michael told her to. Worst, she knew she was helpless to stop her descent. She knew that she would beg like Madelyn, perform like Madelyn, suffer beatings like Madelyn to ride Michael's wonderful prick. It wasn't even a decision. Her body swore that it was true and she knew in her heart that her body wasn't bluffing. ----- "I think I should catch the both of you," Michael said. It had been a harrowing night with the fresh Michael. He had tormented Madelyn by making her watch while he fucked Jessica to howls of consecutive orgams. Madelyn had looked so fierce as she dug at her own sex with a toy. The sight obviously inflamed Michael, who was ready again by the time they put Madelyn to bed and trotted up the stairs. This time he exercised his freedom of choice and had Jessica impale her rear on his wonderful cock and be the author of her own buggering. If it was a test, then Jessica was cheating. She admitted the difference between his wonderful prick in her ass or in the proper place, but the discomfort of her straining rectum was a small thing next to the joy of feeling her true love inside her. She bounced up and down on her love enthusiastically until her thighs burned. "This second one is slow in coming," Michael said long after that was apparent. "Why don't you just suck me off?" Another miss. There was nothing foul enough to take away her joy of pleasing her love. It was her own ass after all. It wasn't like she was being asked to welcome back the prodigal after it had been pleasuring another woman's ass. She went down on him with every loving impulse and in far too short of a time he gave her the second load. At that point Michael suggested catching them both. Jessica had no context for his remark. "Some pretext of needing to find you," Michael went on. "I walk in on you two, hopefully with Bob in the saddle. Then we let the fun begin and see where it goes from there." Jessica imagined in horror where it would go. She could be dragged naked, clutching some too tiny scrap of clothing, through a hotel lobby. She could be driven home in a cab with a cabbie leering and imagining the story behind the naked woman in the back seat. Filtering through this dire prognosis, came the realization that Michael meant for her to have sex with Robert again. Have sex knowing that a scene was going to erupt and that she would be at its center. Set Robert up and watch as he suffered her handiwork. "Or maybe knowing is enough," Robert offered solace. As quickly, he took it away. "How about this? I call Bob in the office and you're there. I confront him about the affair... And then what? I demand to watch you two fuck? I want to see if Bob does it differently? I fuck you in front of Bob so he knows who you belong to? Hey, how about... I make Bob fuck you and then I fuck you myself to show him the right way." Every iteration was more horrible than the last. She was to be the sex object in Michael's wildest dreams. She didn't want to listen. "Oh honey, you look so serious," Michael consoled, "Just tell me you don't want to fuck Robert and we'll forget it." It had the smell of a trap, but it was the only option he gave her. There was a pit at the end of the path, but it was the only path there was. "I only want to make love to you," Jessica said to lessen the reaction. "That's all I wanted to hear," Michael said. "I needed to make sure you hadn't gone soft for Bob." Sure. And a ten-minute ride through Hell is a merry-go-round. Jessica knew he was testing, probing for the most shocked look. And she knew she would face her worst fear- sometime, somewhere down the road. But as before, she could only dumbly await her fate. She needed Michael because when he was good, he was very, very good. And when he was bad, it only showed her how good he must be to make her think it was worth his perverted games to have him. She cursed him for having the wonderful prick that made any price worth it. She would love that cock on any man. Why did it have to be on Michael? ----- He was still the Samaurai of business, but Robert was seeing Michael's cool demeanor in another light. Michael was unnaturally cool. You might even say cold. His easy personal remarks and camaraderie now seemed artificial and scripted to Robert. Everything was in a different light since Jessica confessed her desperation to him. Madelyn's interference must be even worse than it seemed, if that were possible. And Michael's cool control didn't seem to be handling the situation. That was the explanation Robert worked out for Jessica's sudden passion. He was gratified that she chose him, but knew it was luck and not because of any particular virtue of his own. He was happy with his luck. Having Jessica was not the cause of any regret. It was Michael he viewed differently. He saw now that many of the traits he assumed in Michael were of his own invention. Perhaps there was a genuine fellow feeling in Michael's chuckle and perhaps it was a feigned response. Perhaps Michael was prone to all the frustrations and doubts of others and handled them better and perhaps he had no emotions at all. What Robert had always thought to be extraordinary control could simply be an icy core, unfeeling and uncaring. There was no clue on Michael's unruffled surface. That was also a trait of a frozen lake. Passionless. That would explain Michael's new wife seeking warmth in the arms of another man. Robert should be grateful. If that was the cause, then it sent him the most exciting whirl of an otherwise mundane existance. Jessica was anything but cold. Her laugh was so musical and kind even when aimed as his own foibles. And she so wanted to please. The time he spent with her was empowering, even above the heights of raw lust she brought him. His memory of every moment with her was exact. He found himself reliving the gentle parting of her inner flesh around his cock even at meetings. It made him wonder how cool Michael's exterior would be if he stood and described the feeling of fucking his wife to his face. Instead, he watched Michael more closely for clues to the inner workings. His affair with Jessica made him rabid for a better understanding. Madelyn had to be bathed and fed. Understandably, it was not a job they could hire a maid to do. The responsibility fell on Jessica. "Come on, old bitch, time to hose you off," was the standard announcement of Jessica's intent. That day Madelyn's usual retort about the new bitch went wanting. Madelyn got up unsteadily and waited for Jessica to drag her into the shower in silence. The change put a chill in the air. "What's the matter? Still sulking that you went without last night?" Jessica tried to revive the harangue. Like it or not, they were more alike than they were different. Jessica saw much of herself in Madelyn and was sure Madelyn saw the same in her. There was the accepted, but unspoken sharing of Michael that linked them. As much as they shared features, they were set against each other by the very bond that linked them. Jessica was jealous that Madelyn had been there first. She knew Madelyn hated her for being there now. Today Madelyn wasn't moved by her fury. She seemed aged beyond her years as Jessica peeled off her house dress and pushed her under the spray. "Clean up or I'll do it with the brush," Jessica threatened, holding the toilet brush up. Madelyn just stood, docile, under the shower. Having made the threat, Jessica had to follow through. "I'll make sure you're good and clean- inside and out!" Jessica gave vent to her displeasure as she attacked Madelyn with the brush. Madelyn took the brisk scrubbing with only occasional whimpers. It was as if she had lost the will to protest. Even her whimpers were more from being disturbed than from pain. Jessica was offended by the lack of response. It added to her displeasure at having to act the bathservent to a former wife. She attacked Madelyn's crotch as if the toilet brush was a wire brush and she meant to scrape off the last vestige of Madelyn's pubic hair. Madelyn only stiffened with the pain and stood frozen as Jessica took her vengeance. Jessica's offense now became rage. "I guess we'll have to clean out those cooties now," Jessica hissed at Madelyn and turned the brush to push the handle into Madelyn. Madelyn grabbed her wrist. Jessica was willing to damge Madelyn and the first mean jabs of the brush into Madelyn's tenderest flesh might have already done that. But Madelyn's grip was a plea for mercy. "What?" Jessica was not satisfied with that victory. "You have to tell me." "I gave him to you. I accepted my part. What more can you want?" Madelyn spoke to a core matter. Madelyn was making a direct appeal. They had never talked before without Michael as the intermediary or the subject. Madelyn was looking directly into Jessica's eyes. "You see what he wants from me. You should be glad it's my part. You are still the romantic fantasy. Can you imagine what it would be if he didn't have me?" Madelyn said. Tears came to Jessica's eyes. She never meant to be so vulnerable in Madelyn's presence, but Madelyn's words echoed her own thoughts with a haunting murmur. "I am becoming you," Jessica warbled. Stipped of the emotional impact, it was a ridiculous scene. Madelyn was still hunched, holding off Jessica's wrist. Jessica was still frozen in mid-jab with the brush tight in her hand. Both women we dissolving into tears as the water showered down around them. Jessica let go of the brush. It hung for a moment and then slid out of Madelyn to clatter to the shower floor. Madelyn stood up and Jessica pulled her into an embrace. Jessica snuffled out her story of seducing Robert. Madelyn hesitantly laid a hand on Jessica's shoulder. "But what is that, really?" Madelyn soothed. "You had permission to have sex with another man. Michael wasn't your first, was he? It's all the same. It's only your attitudes that were offended." Jessica knew Madelyn was trying to help. Beyond the amazement at that, the words were little comfort. She didn't see. It wasn't just Robert. It was the whole sick scene. Madelyn turned off the water and having no other reason to be in the bathroom, they went back to Madelyn's kennel. "I imagine he's showed you off to his friends?" Madelyn asked. "Called you over and held up your dress while you exposed yourself to them?" Madelyn had stuck a cold, ringing string. Jessica had done her best to forget that. It was while the affair was running hot and even then it nearly made her run away. She had excused it by alcohol. Michael was a little drunk when he grabbed her by the poker table and had her give her little show. Just as Madelyn described, he held up her skirt and told her to pull down her panties. With her panties held at her knees, she was bidden to reach down and spread her cunt. It was the first time she heard that rude word from Michael's lips. She was turned and bent over to furnish the full rear view and then Michael slapped her on the buttock and shooed her away. In the kitchen, in tears, she resolved many times to leave and not return. But she felt an ominous aura of failure every time she stepped toward the door. Later, she hid her questions from herself as she enjoyed that wonderful prick and all the joys it brought. It was one of the nights that warmed her memories of the pleasures of her true love. She had known such ecstasy that memory did it no justice. "Did he tell you?" Jessica asked Madelyn. "Of course not. You were the other woman," Madelyn grimaced. "It's just the way he is. The old dog only has one set of tricks." Jessica knew her own revelations were true, but Madelyn was forcing her to face them. Michael would turn her into Madelyn. And she was even more desperate. Because she knew there was no helping her. At every better reason to stir herself and exert her own self-worth she found it even more impossible to pull away. In some wicked sense she had invested too much to walk away empty. In an even darker sense, the wonderful prick was the only salve to soothe her wounds. "You never were a nudist before, either, were you?" Madelyn said after she had let Jessica twist in confusion just long enough. That was even earlier. It was the most harmless thing. Her modesty was silly. She saw that after romping au-naturel with dozens of likewise naked people. It gave her faith in Michael's shocking ideas. From Madelyn's lips it took on a more sinister meaning. It was the jump-off point of a long fall. Jessica realized that not only was her overcoming her modesty important, but that being modest in the first place attracted Michael's interest. "You've told me where you are now. I know every step that got you here," Madelyn said wearily. "Welcome to the hopeless bitch's club." Flashing drivers on the road. (Oh, go on. You'll never see them again.) Having sex on an enclosed patio with only a mere 360 rooms overlooking. (I don't see any lights.) Jacking him off in a cab and bending down to take his orgasm in her mouth. (They see it all the time. He doesn't know us from Adam.) She was only the latest to go down that road. Madelyn took uncharacteristic pity at the horror in Jessica's eyes. "But the rewards only get better to keep pace with the price," Madelyn said. Jessica looked at her questioningly. How could anyone be rewarded enough to appear naked amid people she knew in the state Madelyn was at the party? How could anyone stand for a whipping to be abused right after with a perfunctory fuck? "You have a lot to learn," Madelyn anticipated Jessica's thoughts, "There's so much more down the dark corridors in your soul than you have the courage to face right now." Jessica responded with a blank stare. "You'll go down them," Madelyn predicted. "Michael will open each horrible door and then lead you to the next. And I don't think you're any stronger than I was. You know in your heart that you can't break away, even knowing your fate, don't you?" Jessica's head sank. The rage against that helplessness obsessed her more and more, yet she knew Madelyn was right. No matter how much she wailed at her predicament, she would never be strong enough to free herself. Michael amused himself with his thoughts as he watched Bob watch him. Bob was looking for an excuse to pardon his affair. He was searching for the flaw that made it all right to fuck Michael's wife. Michael was testing his imagined scenes with Bob before him as a model. He could vividly imagine Bob between Jessica's legs. He could see the trapped look as Bob performed in front of him. It would be the most amusing mixture of guilt and guilty pleasure. Jessica's amazed acceptance of acts too horrible for her to imagine would be the same as always. The nuance in her case was that the expression did not change even as her actions violated ever deeper and more strongly held beliefs. She would wear that same conflicted stare when he put bells on rings through her nipples and sent her out naked to solicit donations to the Salvation Army in return for sex in the Christmas snow. But these were imagination. Michael had no intention of granting Bob another go at Jessica, even in those circumstances. However horrible the impact, it would lead to closure. Michael knew the ache of unrealized possibilty would eat at Bob forever. Like an STD, it was the gift that keeps on giving. Jessica was was being turned on the spit of some vague threatened act. All was right with the world. Michael turned back to the business at hand. It was all so easy when you kept a cool head. ----- "I think we ought to get rid of her," Michael said. It was as if he was punishing their temerity in talking to one another. Just when Jessica's feeling had shifted toward Madelyn, Michael wanted her gone. A week earlier and Jessica would have agreed heartily. Now she couldn't agree. Her fate and Madelyn's was fixed. They shared a destiny and Jessica could not bear to think her turn would come to be pushed aside. "What do you mean?" Jessica asked, fearing Michael intended murder. "What do you do with an old bitch, too old to bear?" Michael asked. Jessica had visions of Madelyn tied to a stake and Michael walking up cooing soothing words with a shotgun in his hand. "You send her to the farm. Let her be some child's pet in her old age," Michael said. Jessica was relieved, but it made no sense. How could Madelyn be a child's pet? The identification of her as bitch didn't stretch that far. "You'll see," Michael smiled at her consternation, "It will be for the best in the end." The same could not be said for Jessica. For the first time since she had known Michael, her beloved cock ignored her. She could find no proof of its passion. Instead it was like dumb thing, jabbing inside her like some heedless wooden pole. It was not even the roughest Michael had abused her anus. His wonderful cock was well-lubricated and he was not particularly violent as he slapped on her upraised rear. The problem was her true love. She could not find the feelings she had for it. It was the same cock, invading her like a rogue bowel movement, but she did not feel its love. For all her attempts to know that it was trying hard to please her, she only felt it as an extension of Michael. His wonderful prick had betrayed her and cast his lot with Michael. It was only an agent of Michael's pleasure now. It sped up the narrow passage for Michael's good. It probed and stabbed her to give Michael his reward. And when Michael drove deep and came in her ass, she knew his cock was laughing at her. She could feel it in the trembles between each swelling to spurt out more hot fluid into her bowels. There was no reason now. She had been deserted by her true love and there was nothing to make her bend to Michael's will. There was no reward for the price. She lay thinking deep into the night. And nothing changed. ----- Madelyn's final look was burned into Jessica's brain. It spoke paragraphs, books, volumes, libraries of what their brief encounter had only touched on. He only has one trick. As I am, you will become. Yet I stay and you will too. That was the gist of all the truths Madelyn conveyed in her eyes. Jessica felt the weight of doom settle on her as they turned around in the driveway and drove off. She was being driven into the dark night of her fears. Even darker, she was starting the circle that would eventually return to this place. Some day she would give Madelyn's look to the next girl and be led off. She had to give up her fantasy that Michael's cock loved her. She knew too much, saw too far in the future, to allow herself childish play. She had to admit that she was in Michael's thrall. It was not the wonderful cock that bound her to endure Michael's whims. It was herself. She could not, because she hadn't, because she had said yes too many times, walk away. She knew the danger and could not turn aside. Was it weakness or something more evil? Was there a secret inside her that Michael knew? Was it only her true nature escaping the pit where it had been imprisoned by the forces of order and good? Jessica feared the answer. Even without the love of his wonderful prick, sex with Michael spread a soft amnesia over her hurts. It was the oasis in the world-wide desert. Any power he had over her was at least shared with her in those times. She was the one he chose. If validation was small comfort, it was her only comfort. And she knew she had not the power to break away. Behind them, Madelyn was settled into her new home. She had never been able to see as far as the end, but when it arrived it was familiar. In some respects she had more luxury than in her kennel. The stern lighting and cliche bars did not alter the softness of the matress. Her costume of shackles, neck, wrists and ankles, was only to create atmosphere while the real atmosphere was quite warm enough to be comfortable in her nudity. As for the pain- she had learned long ago, as Jessica would soon learn, that the stimulation of nerve endings, even by pain, was a sensation that could be turned to pleasure. She was even mildly curious to see if her new master had any new way of inducing her to make that transformation. But even if she was only whipped and then thrown to unruly men, it would be enough. For it was still Michael that placed her here and it was still Michael's doing whatever occured. "And what do you like, or should I say hate, most?" her new master asked. "Needles? clamps? suspension? the good old whip? hot? cold? un-endurable endurance? I want you to feel most pained while in my possession." Amateur. Michael would never ask. Even though his intention was to shock her with his toys, he granted her too much humanity by acting like she was worthy of participation. He should order. She should obey. Michael was somewhere with Jessica having the last laugh. He had dumped her on a callow youth and she would suffer his learning while pining for Michael's touch. It was so Michael. ###