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.
 ###