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From: Delta <delta*@bc.sympatico.ca>
Subject: Delta: HOTSPRINGS 3/4 (mf, ff, d/s, etc.)
Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by
E-mail at:
delta@bc.sympatico.ca
until late August 1997. After that comments should be directed
to alt.sex.stories.d
Comments and critizisms are welcome.
Standard disclaimers: This is a work of fiction - no character
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead. No
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's
imagination. Copyright retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only. It is not to be published
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs,
without the express prior consent of author.
Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.
Delta.
HOTSPRINGS
Chapter 7
The belt lay there in the middle of the table. Tom stared
at it for a long minute then cursed as he rose to his feet. His
dinner was forgotten. He picked up the belt. It was stiffer
than he expected. Stiff or supple, it made no difference. He'd
put it on, have Stacy and then take it off again.
"So you're going to agree to her terms," Fred stated,
somewhat surprised.
"In a pig's eye. Why should I play by her rules?"
Fred raised his eyebrows at that. "That's going to cause
problems, I think."
"Good. I never agreed to her little deal. You heard her,
I wear the belt, I get the girl."
"It seems that the rest is implied, Tom." Fred tried to
reason with him - without success.
"I'm on to her little game, and she's not going to succeed.
I'm tearing down her little Queendom, starting now. "'Sides,
what can the Bitch do?"
Without waiting for an answer he strode off to his room
to prepare. As he passed through the common room he did not
notice Kat sitting in the large arm chair, reading a magazine.
Kat smiled at Tom's receding back. It was progressing,
then, as she had thought it would. She slowly closed the
magazine and set it on the coffee table before arising and
heading for her own room.
Stacy sat, trembling, on her bed. When she had agreed to
do whatever Mistress Kat told her to, in order to get her
revenge, she had never counted on something like this. Avoiding
Tom had been one of the very reasons why she'd accepted Kat as
her Mistress and now Kat was giving her to Tom! It all seemed
so very ironic.
That, however, was not the cause of her trembling. She
wasn't sure she could go through with it - to allow Tom to use
her as he saw fit. And if she didn't go through with it -
assuming Tom took the bait - she was finished here at the
Hotsprings. Her breathing was shallow and fast. She *had*
to go through with it.
But maybe Tom wouldn't take the bait. He was smart enough
to know it was a trap, after all. The chances of him actually
coming into the room were small. Stacy began to breathe
more easily. When the door opened, it would be Mistress Kathryn,
telling her she could go to sleep. There was no need for her
to worry at all. Mistress Kathryn would come in and see her
ready for Tom and she would be pleased. Another test would
be passed and Mistress Kathryn would reward her.
Stacy arranged herself a little more provocatively on
the bed and practiced a sultry smile. Wouldn't Mistress Kathryn
be impressed!
The door opened and Stacy smiled her smile. Tom walked in
and her smile dropped. It couldn't be. Tom smiled at her
expression.
"You're mine for the next three hours, little pet. Just
relax and you'll enjoy this, I know I will."
Stacy's mind was in a turmoil. How could this be? What
should she do? How displeased would Kat really be if she failed?
The mere thought of it send a shudder down her spine. Tom noted
it and grinned - he, no doubt, thought he had caused it. The
bastard.
Suddenly Stacy was calm. There was no longer any doubt.
Yes, the bastard. And this little sacrifice would allow her to
get even with him. She took a deep breath.
"It's so nice to see you Tom. Are you wearing the belt?
Ah, I see you are. Just let me check it and then we can get
started." The belt was, indeed, on tightly enough that he
would be unable to get it down past his hips. She wondered what
he had thought when he realized that he would not be able to
undo the belt. Apparently, whatever he thought, he decided it
was worth the risk.
Tom was a little taken aback at Stacy's sudden switch, yet
it didn't bother him enough to change his plans. She was there,
she appeared willing, and he was going to have her. He glanced
at the alarm clock on her table.
"It's ten to seven," he grinned. "Don't bother even thinking
of being finished before ten to ten. I've waited a long time for
this and I'm not giving up a single minute." He looked up and
down Stacy's body, delight showing in his eyes.
Stacy was clad in a see-through nightgown, with panties her
only undergarment (on Kat's instructions), her breasts jutting
forward, nipples visible. Her hair was brushed back and shone in
the light from the open window.
Tom licked his lips as he kicked off his sandals. This would
be better than he ever had imagined. She would be his obedient, yet
not so willing, partner. It thrilled him to think of how humiliating
this situation must be for her, how she would not want to react,
would not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her react
to his ministrations, yet how she would be forced to do so, to
come to the realization that he was in command, in control of
her will, of her body.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her, not from
altruistic motives at all, but as the first step to taking her
from Kat's control and placing her in his own.
"Yes, Tom, I'm sure."
Tom didn't really notice the surety which rang in her voice.
He was blinded by the expected. It was the answer he knew she
would give and he did not pause to think that she might really
mean it.
Stacy looked meaningfully at the clock. "It's now eight
minutes to seven, Tom. Shouldn't we start. I'm sure you don't
want to waste any time.
Tom jerked back to reality. He had been so intent on her
figure in front of him that he had forgotten himself for a moment.
"Yes, right." Now that his moment of triumph was upon him
he was unsure of just how to start. He had never before actually
had a woman who would unquestioningly do what ever he asked of her.
It was a hard moment as he realized the pitfalls which awaited him.
He was now responsible for everything. It was not the easy place
to be which he had thought it would be.
"What do you want me to do, Tom?" It was as though Stacy had
sensed a little of what was going through Tom's mind and had
maliciously highlighted his indecision. A small smile flitted
over her face. Did she suddenly realize the power which the
powerless possessed?
Tom shook himself. Action, not thought, was what was needed
here. He stepped forward and pulled her to him, squashing her
breasts against his chest. He tilted her head up and kissed her
roughly. She allowed it, but did not respond. It was not going
how Tom had envisioned it, at all. He pushed her away from him
and she fell onto the bed, smiling up at him.
"Don't you like kissing me?" she asked, innocently.
"Damn you, is this how you obey your Mistress?" Tom was
angry, more at himself than at her.
Stacy went wide eyed, as if she had no idea what was going
on at all.
"But Tom," she replied, "you have not yet asked anything of
me. I am here, awaiting your orders."
Tom fumed. "Then react, damn it."
"Oh!" Sudden understanding seemed to dawn in Stacy's eyes.
"You want me to pretend to like this . . . ." she paused, as if
confused, "or do you want me to pretend *not* to like it? Is
that it?"
This was not going well at all. "Either way. Just react."
"Okay." Stacy got up and threw her arms around Tom's neck,
drawing his head down to her and kissed him back, thoroughly.
Tom was surprised when she opened her mouth to allow his tongue
in and her tongue dueled with it. It was becoming more difficult
to concentrate and when they broke the kiss both were breathing
heavily.
"That's better," Tom granted, stepping back. "Now take off
your nightgown - sexily." His own robe was now open, exposing his
chest, the belt and his boxer shorts. His feet were bare and
slightly apart
Stacy began a little dance, undulating as she stepped towards
then away from Tom, moving so close to him that her nipples almost,
but not quite, touched his chest, then away as she slowly raised
the hem of her nightgown past her knees and thighs.
Tom's eyes widened a little as her panties came into view,
purple and high cut. They would make a great souvenir, he thought,
and licked his lips once again. He sniffed at the air. She was
wearing no perfume, yet her hair still had the aroma of an
expensive shampoo. There was a slight hint of - banana? - to it.
He breathed more deeply as she sashayed closer once more, the
hem of the nightgown up above her navel now. He reached forward
and touched her belly before she moved back out of reach.
Tom cocked his head. There was something this reminded him
of - ah, of course - a lap dance in a strip joint. It gave him
an idea.
Stacy's nightgown was now off, her breasts swaying as she
moved. Tom reached forward and tweaked a nipple, smiled, then
spoke.
"You want what?" Stacy wasn't sure she had heard correctly.
"A lap dance. You know, like they do in strip clubs. The
stripper . . . "
"I see." Stacy had seen that once when her old boyfriend had
taken her into the "Club on 7th" one time. She had been both
intrigued and a little disgusted by the degradation of the women,
who had to dance, naked or semi naked, in front of the customers,
for a few dollars.
"And be sure to let me know that you're enjoying it," Tom
smirked. He turned her dressing table chair around and sat down
on it.
Stacy thought for a moment, then searched through her CDs.
Ah, here it was, just the thing.
"What are you doing," Tom's voice came from behind her.
"Just what you wanted. I'm finding suitable music." Stacy
popped the CD in her player and programmed it to repeat the song
she had chosen, then turned to face Tom. He sat facing her with
his back to the dressing table mirror. She would be able to see
herself as she danced. He sat on the edge of the chair with his
legs spread wide. She would be expected to dance within the
arc of his legs
Before the music started, she put on a pair of shoes with
two inch heels and grabbed a silk scarf from a drawer and tied
it loosely around her neck, then sat on the bed, facing Tom.
The music came on, the driving beat from ABBA's Voulez-Vous.
She began tapping her feet in time to the music, then on the first
'Voulez-vous' she stood and began to dance to the music. She
snapped her fingers to her left, then her right, her arms coming
across and pushing first one breast, then the other. Moving forward
she ran her tongue across her lips in an exaggerated gesture.
Her image in the mirror swayed and strutted and excited her.
She could do this - it was almost like in the shower - not for him,
not for the Bastard, but for herself, for Mistress Kathryn and for
the opportunity of getting him back later, would she do this. She
would excite him beyond reason, drive him to exhaustion, then make
the signal.
Closer and closer she danced until her breasts were mere inches
from Tom's mouth. He made to capture one but she backed up, teasing
him. He sat with his hands on his upper thighs, leaning slightly
forward. As of yet he was playing the role of customer - not allowed
to touch. Unwrapping her scarf she took an end in each hand and twirled
it like a skipping rope in front of her breasts. Then, stepping
forward once more she tossed it over Tom's head and drew him
forward to her breasts, moving her shoulders in circles, making
it difficult for him to capture a breast.
Finally he succeeded and she reduced her movements, enjoying
the feel of the warm mouth around her nipple. His tongue flicked
at her nipple and her eyes closed in the rapture of the moment. She
turned, pulling her nipple from his mouth and presenting the other
breast which he willingly took in. If he was surprised at her
willingness he gave no sign.
Stacy pulled back and turned her back to Tom, continuing to
dance. He put his hands on her ass and she turned her head to
smile down at him. She was now singing along with the song.
"Voulez-vous, ah-hah," and with each 'ah-hah' she bounced her
rear off his lap, feeling him grow with each bounce. Her head
swung back and forth, whipping Tom's face with her flying hair.
This was fun! She was really getting into it, getting hot - in
more ways than one. Sweat was beginning to bead on her and she
felt herself starting to moisten as well.
She turned around once more, bent over and placed her hands on
Tom's knees, still moving her feet, her breasts hanging down for his
viewing pleasure, swinging back and forth, then closed his legs.
She moved up and straddled his legs, and bounced up and down on
his thighs. His cock, she could see, when she looked down, was
struggling to get free. She grinned at herself in the mirror,
then her eyes suddenly widened as Tom, now almost beside himself
with excitement, abruptly stood, wrapping his arms around her and
lifting her with him as he rose. She brought up her legs and
wrapped them around him as he carried her to the bed.
In the mirror she could see the look of victory in her
bright eyes. She had done it.
God, but that Stacy was one hot chick. He hadn't really
noticed it before, but when she let go, she Let Go! In all the
times he'd paid a lap dancer, none had ever gotten him so hard
as quickly as she had. She might have been hesitant about going
with him, but when she made up her mind she went with it - full
out.
He could smell her excitement in the air and that added
to his own. He lowered her to the bed and she let go of him,
and lay there, legs and arms spread, awaiting his pleasure.
His pleasure. He liked the feel of those words. Yes,
it would be his pleasure indeed. He reached forward and began
to pull down her panties. She raised her hips to help him and
a smile broke over his face. She was hot and she wanted it, too!
Her cunt was there, now naked in front of him, dewdrops of her
juices on her cuntlips. He gave the panties a quick sniff and
pocketed them before allowing his robe to fall to the floor. It
had been his intention to have her take down his shorts and wrap
that pretty mouth of hers about his cock, but he was too excited
to wait and with swift movements he stripped the boxers from his
body.
His cock stood to attention and her eyes went to it, half
fearful, half lusting, he thought. Then he was between her
thighs, pressing forward, kissing at her neck, his cock seeking
the moist portals to pleasure.
Her hand was between them, suddenly, guiding him in. He
pressed forward, his cock jumping as he heard her gasp. Then
he was inside, pressing forward, burying himself to his balls
in her. Ahh. She was so tight, so wonderfully wet and, best
of all, she was all his. He raised himself up on his hands so
he could see her face as he began to plunge into her with hard
swift strokes.
Her face contorted with a grimace, then slowly smoothed as
her lubrication coated him and he slicked in and out. Her breasts
rippled and shook with the force of their meetings, sending a
thrill through him.
It was better than he'd dreamed. Her breath was coming in
gasps as she struggled to maintain her composure, but he would
give her no chance. She would get it long and hard, until she
came. Only after that would he allow himself to come, showing
her his mastery.
"Ride me," she gasped at him. "Ride me hard, Tom, hard
and fast."
Tom grinned. He had known that once she had given in she
would love it. She was his now. All it had taken was a real
man. She would never go back to the Bitch now, he knew. He
gave her what she wanted, hard and fast. His breath was coming
in gasps now as well. It was a strenuous position he was in.
He made to lower himself onto her, but she stopped him.
"I want you to see my face when I come," she panted.
It was a hell of an idea. He wanted to see it, too, now.
"You got it, baby." He was dripping with sweat, holding back
when all he wanted, now, was to come. It was a point of honor
now and he used every trick he knew to stay strong.
Suddenly it came to him that she was holding back as well,
and he laughed out loud. "No way, pussy, no way," he gasped and
began to grind hard into her pelvis with each thrust. It had its
effect and her body began tensing beneath him.
No. It wasn't fair. She was going to come. She knew it
and knew that he knew it. She had played the game too well and
now the Bastard was going to make her come. Only one part of
her mind could think of that, the rest was too busy enjoying the
thrusting, the wonderfulness of the sex. Everything was tightening
and her body was rising off the bed, even as he rammed into her,
trying to subdue this last effort.
Her last conscious decision, before she came, was to let
herself go, to be loud. He would like that.
She couldn't hold out much more, he knew as he ground into
her, pushing her rising body back towards the bed. It was so
good, this taking of Stacy. He had her. He had her. Triumph
filled him as her piercing cry filled the room and her body
surged into his before collapsing back onto the bed.
Her face had, indeed, been worth seeing as she came, as
she lost all control. Now it was his turn. He stepped up his
thrusting - hearing, with glee, her cries as he pounded her
now very sensitive clit. He was tightening, himself, his balls
heavy and full, his cock hard and strong.
Point of no return - the thought came to him as his body
went into automatic. He thrust hard and fast to increase his
pleasure until his roar of joy blotted everything else out and
he was coming in long spurts into Stacy's accepting body.
God. What a ride. He collapsed on her, hearing the whoosh
of breath as his weight drove the air from her lungs.
A vast lethargy overcame him as he lay on her, trapping
her beneath him, with him still inside her. A few minutes rest
couldn't hurt. It was so warm and wonderful here, inside her,
on her, surrounding her.
Tom never knew that she pushed the button. Only heard her
soft cooing in his ear. Her legs were wide and she hooked them
around Tom's, pulling him open a bit. Then she wrapped her arms
around him and held on tight for what was to come.
He felt the moistness as her finger massaged his anus. Once
started there was no stopping her, he sleepily thought to himself.
She was working a finger into his ass. He decided to allow it
and relaxed into her delicious warmth.
His eyes snapped open. That was no finger, and besides,
both of Stacy's arms were around him, holding him tight. He
struggled to get up, to stop the penetration - both to no
avail. The plug. It was the fucking plug, and it was in him,
stretching him! There was a click at the back of the belt and a
pulling sensation.
"Let go of his legs." It was the Bitch's voice.
As Stacy obeyed he struggled to get up, but was still
trapped by her arms around him. Too late he realized he had
played into Kat's hands, as she took advantage of the gap
between him and Stacy to thread something between his legs
and attach it to the belt in front. There were two of them,
he realized, as someone did the same thing on the other side.
"Okay, Stacy, you can let go now."
Tom struggled to his feet, still somewhat groggy. He
looked down and saw the taut cords, one leading down to
either side of his cock and balls to the buttplug he felt
stretching his ass. The third cord went up the crack of his
ass and attached to the middle of the belt behind him.
He glared at Kat, and then saw Mel there as well. He
switched his glare of rage to Mel.
"Sorry Tom, but you agreed, and I had to."
"You sorry bastard." He returned his attention to Kat.
"What the hell's this all about?" As if he didn't know.
"Like Mel said, you agreed. You seemed likely to break
that agreement, but I wasn't about to allow that. A deal is
a deal. You *will* complete your end of the agreement." Her
voice was very calm, very purposeful.
He raged impotently as Mel walked out, then he calmed a
bit. He'd simply cut the cords later and take the plug out.
Now, however, it was putting a strange sort of pressure on him,
causing his cock to rise, unbidden.
"I see you like it," Kat grinned. "Now let me explain
how this is going to work. You will wear that plug for the
next three days. When you have to use the toilet, I will
unlock the rear cord and you can remove it for the time
required. You will then come back to me to prove that it
is back where it is supposed to be. If you damage either the
belt or plug in an attempt to remove them yourself, there *will*
be reprisals. Count on it.
"You will not disturb me when I'm in my room at night.
You're all grown up and can ensure that you do your duty before
going to bed. Disturb me at your own risk. Any questions?"
"You Bitch," Tom growled.
Kat smiled. "Had you gone along with the rules, like Mel,
the locks wouldn't have been necessary. You have only yourself
to blame."
Tom switched his gaze to Stacy who was beside herself with
joy. "You knew about this," he accused her.
"Yes," she replied, eyes shining, "and I'm glad I had a part
in it. You don't look so bad now, Tom Calder, and every time I
look at you I'll laugh. Shoe's on the other foot now, isn't it,
'Pussy'."
Tom glowered. The clock caught his attention. "Hey, I still
have 90 minutes left, don't I. Or are you going to welsh on your
end of the deal?"
Stacy looked, wild-eyed at the clock, then at Kat.
"So you do. I always live up to my end of a deal. 90 minutes
it is. Enjoy." Kat turned and walked from the room, much to Stacy's
dismay.
"Still think it's so funny, Stacy?" he asked, after Kat closed
the door behind her.
"You got what you deserved, Tom." Stacy wasn't going to back
down from him. Not now, not ever again. She stared at him, eyes
drawn down to the belt and the cords which would keep him to his
word. It was funny and she tried, unsuccessfully to hide a smile.
"So you do think it's funny." Tom shook his head in mock
dismay. "You like the idea of me having this thing up my ass?"
She did, and on impulse she said so.
"Well, then, Stacy, perhaps it's time for you to feel what
it's like, having something up your ass." He stroked his
hardening cock suggestively. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle. I
don't want to hurt you, just give you a taste of this same
medicine."
She blanched. He wouldn't. Her heart sank. He would.
"Please Tom, no."
"Is that how you obey your Mistress? If you back out, I get
rid of the plug. Seems fair to me. Let's go tell the Bitch that
the deal's off. You can save both our asses."
Stacy was on the point of agreeing when she realized that,
if she did, her sacrifice would have been for nothing. Damn the
Bastard anyway. She composed her face.
"How do you want me, Tom?"
Tom frowned at her, then slowly smiled. "You know, I'm
almost glad you made that decision. Afterwards, we can fuck to
your music. Voulez-vous seems like an appropriate song, considering."
"Everything all in order?" Fred put down his book as Kat sat
down across from him in the common room.
"Oh, yes. Just fine," smiled Kat. "Now it's time we had a
talk, don't you think?"
Fred grinned. "Politics or Religion?"
Kat kept calm. "I was thinking of you and me."
"Well, I already know more about you than I think I want to,
and I do know about me. I'm happy with that. What's to discuss?"
Kat refused to be put off. Fred might be slippery, but she'd
pin him down yet. "How about us."
"I didn't know there was an 'us'."
"There could be. Remember you said that you thought you were
in love with me?" She willed him to remember the picture of her
silhouetted by the sun, her body showing through her dress.
"Perhaps with who you appeared to be. But reality has raised
it's ugly head, hasn't it?" Fred was tired and growing a little weary
of the banter and it told in his tone of voice.
"Do you truly think I'm ugly now," Kat allowed the hurt into
her voice. "Is it so ugly what I am, the way I live." His
dispassionate assessment had hurt her more than all Tom's anger
could ever do, more than she wanted to admit. Being a dominatrix
didn't mean one didn't have feelings, too. She respected Fred for
the way he treated everyone he met, for his cheerful attitude, and
this sudden negativity, made worse by the lack of any passion, was
hard to take. Moreso, since she'd never heard him say anything
negative about anyone else. It was hard to be thus singled out by
someone you respected.
Fred must have been truly listening for he rose and crossed
over to the couch and sat beside her. He held her hand.
"No, Kat. You are not ugly, nor is the way you live. We
each have to be true to ourselves. You are playing your little
games, and Mel, Stacy and Tom have joined you in them. You have
each made your decisions in this matter.
"I, too, have made my decision. I don't want to play. I
will not play. I like it here. I like all of you, yes you, too,
Kat. But I will leave, regardless, if I am forced to play." He
raised her chin and turned her head until she was looking at him.
"Let me be Kat. Please." It was a plea and she recognized it as
such, but not a plea from a position of weakness.
Her voice, when it came, was almost a whisper, almost a
plea also. "I can't." Her eyes lowered.
"Why not?" His voice was mild.
She suddenly wanted to tell him, to accept his choice without
reservation, however, that wasn't in the cards. She shook her
head sadly. "I just can't."
"Then maybe it's time I started packing."
End Chapter 7, Hotsprings by Delta.
HOTSPRINGS
Chapter 8
Tom was in a rage. He paced back and forth in his room.
The Bitch. The God Damned Bitch. He'd beat her yet. Just how,
he didn't know, but he'd beat her.
The center of his ire was the butt plug, its cords and the
belt. The cords had wire centers - he couldn't cut through
them with his knife. He knew. He'd tried. The same went for the
belt. Now he'd have to face her with the damage he'd done - and
all for what? He was still locked in.
The only way through would be with wire cutters, and he knew,
he just knew, that Mel, on Kat's orders, would have all such
implements locked up. Damn, damn, damn. It was going to be
an unpleasant night.
After he'd finished his three hours with Stacy - the only
good part of the night - he'd had to go to Kat to have the plug
unlocked so he could complete his toilet. The Bitch-queen had
made him wear a wrist cuff, attached to the belt, before unlocking
the rear cord to the plug, until he came back offering proof
that the plug was again inserted and the cord drawn tight.
He couldn't even properly try to pick the locks - they were
cruciform. Damn, damn, damn.
In the previously empty spare room Kat slept with Mel and
Stacy to either side of her, though lower in the bed such that
their heads were at about the level of her breasts. It had been
very pleasurable to have one of them suckling at each breast.
They'd come to her after playing with each other. It had been a
reward to them for the taking of Tom.
That, by itself, wouldn't bring him over; still, it would
go a fair way toward destroying his confidence in himself. He
would no longer be a serious threat to her plans. He might not
fall in with them, but he would not be able to counter them. At
the very worst he would retreat from all dealings with her brood.
It had been a very good day.
Stacy reached out and touched her Mistress's hip. It had
been so good of her to allow them to be at her side during the
night. She felt comforted and protected. Although still sore
from Tom's abuse of her body, she was in a remarkably good
mood. She had thought of a way to get revenge upon him. She
wouldn't tell Mistress Kathryn, she would just do it. A smile
played about her lips as she considered how best to implement
her idea.
Fred sat on his chair and gazed wistfully at the two
suitcases which sat on the bed. Packing and leaving held no
special thrill for him. He had been happy here, relatively
speaking. Still, events were moving in a way which was
destroying the relative happiness. Why couldn't she just
leave him alone, he wondered of Kat? Why was it so important
to her to get him, too? It wasn't as if he was trying to
thwart her efforts with the others. The game she was playing was
amusing - as long as it didn't involve him. The others had all
played along of their own volition - whatever they got was of
their own making, they didn't have to play. So why, when he had
made it clear that he didn't want to play, was she still intent on
forcing it upon him?
It was a question which he couldn't answer, which she,
apparently, wouldn't answer. So, what other course of action
was there to take, other than leaving?
He glanced out the window and was rewarded with the sight
of a great goblin moon rising above the trees. It appeared
huge, yellow and full, lighting up the night. It would, perhaps,
make a good picture and he pulled his camera from its case.
He braced it against the window ledge, it would have been
preferable to have a tripod, however, that was in the trunk of
his car and by the time he retrieved it the shot would be gone.
The sky was clear and the temperature of the night air
cooler than it had been of late. The result of this was to
cause a veritable fog over the pool. Looking down upon it, Fred
was reminded of depictions of primeval worlds, not yet cooled.
The tendrils of vapor swirled about in the light breeze.
The whole scene caused an unknown emotion to well up in
him. It was almost a memory of something lost to the mind,
lost in a fog. The sense of loss saddened him, yet, somehow,
joy also echoed throughout him.
He was looking down, absently, enchanted, his mind somewhere
else, when the splash startled him out of his reverie. There was
someone in the pool, which was closed at this time of night. He
peered through the mists trying to make out who it could be.
Jennie floated in the pool, comforted by the mists which
gently softened all the harsh edges. Her whole world was the
pool and the short distance she could see. The comfort was
something she desperately needed. Her thoughts went back
to the shock of Kathy's revelation.
It was patently obvious to her what was happening and it
hurt her beyond what she was capable of showing. Jake had
betrayed her. There was no doubt about it. Kathy would
prove it. No, no doubt at all. She had suspected this at
other times, the only difference, now, was that this time she
wanted the proof, wanted to be sure.
The strange thing was that she felt vaguely disloyal to
Jake for asking Kathy, or Kat as she had heard the others
calling her, to press on. Why should she be the one to feel
disloyal? Nonetheless, she did, and she had tossed and turned
in her bed, unable to relax.
As sleep would not come, she had decided to let the
hotsprings relax her, to deplete all that nervous energy. It
was working. She could feel all the tension being melted away
as the hot sulfurous water did what it did best. Yes, the
tension was leaving her body relaxed, sapping her strength,
making it difficult to even think. However, her emotions were
coming to the surface like bubbles in the pool.
Jennie wiped at her face, knowing that tears were mingled
with the perspiration. Life wasn't fair, she decided. God,
why this? Why now? Weren't there trials enough without a
betrayal as well? The tears were coming freely and a
shuddering sob shook her body.
No, damnit, he wouldn't make her cry. She struggled to
bring her breathing back under control. She would be tough.
She would distance herself, like men did it. Nothing showed
with them, it seemed.
Jennie pulled herself out of the pool with a ruthless
determination. She would not let it get her down. She
looked up, through the mists, to the star filled sky. It
was so beautiful; it was good to be alive and here.
"Then why does it hurt so much?" she spoke softly
to her favorite constellation, much as she had when she was a
youngster. "Why does it hurt so much?"
After recovering, somewhat, from the energy draining pool,
Jennie turned and made her way to the door to the back stairs.
On reaching her door, she turned and glanced around before
opening it. Someone was in the common room, or someone had
left the light on. She decided to investigate.
"Hi, Fred." She was pleased that it was him. He was
leaning over the coffee table, absently playing solitaire.
"Up rather late, aren't you?"
Fred looked up and smiled at her. He had such a nice
smile, and Jennie began to feel a little better.
"Hi, Jennie. Guess I'm not the only one." He looked
at her hair, still wet from her dip. The smell of sulfur
wafted across the room. "Been in the pool? Nice night for it."
"I couldn't sleep. Mind if I sit down?" Fred might be
a good one to talk to. She always felt up after being with
him.
"Of course not. Yeah, I couldn't sleep either. Maybe
it's going around," he grinned. "The question is: Did I
catch it from you, or you from me. It's important to know
who to blame."
Jennie grinned back as she tightened the tie on her
robe before sitting. She was feeling better already.
"How about we share the blame. I don't think I'm strong
enough to take it all." She grimaced to herself. The catch
in her voice had betrayed her. She hadn't meant to let
anything out like that. And Fred had caught it. Not that
he showed much, but a slight sharpening of his look convinced
her of it.
"Then I guess I'll take the weight," he sighed. "The
boss is never to blame, you know." He gave forth with his best
'put upon' expression, causing Jennie to giggle.
"She isn't?" Jennie raised her eyebrows.
"Nope, says so right in the contract. Article 47, I
think. I'll have to check with the union steward for a
legal opinion, however."
Now Jennie laughed. She leaned back and crossed her
legs, contemplating Fred. Humor was just what she needed now,
and he was doing a good job of providing it.
"What else does it say in the contract?"
"Figures," Fred's voice was filled with mock disgust.
"Bosses never read the contract. No wonder the grievances
are multiplying."
"They are?"
"Sure. All due to Article 21."
"Article 21? Isn't that the one that says that the boss
shall give the employee a good-night kiss for helping her
through a tough spot?"
Fred laughed as Jennie stood. He got up as well.
"That's the one, and it's been weeks, you know."
"That's one grievance I think we can settle now," Jennie
moved towards him, much to his surprise. She kissed him
lightly on the cheek.
"Thank you, Fred. I'm glad you are here." She touched him
lightly on the arm, then glanced at the wall clock. "Ah, well,
guess I'd better go to bed. I think I'll be able to sleep now."
She turned and walked back to her room. Fred was such
a nice young man. Something caught in her memory. When she
had crossed her legs, had he been staring at the skin revealed?
No. She must have been mistaken.
In his room, Fred stared once more at the suitcases on his
bed. He looked at them for a long time before finally letting
out a long sigh. He replaced them in the closet and began
undressing for bed. He'd have to think of another way out. He
couldn't bring himself to abandon ship just yet.
"You're sure about it?" Jennie's voice was under firm
control.
"Positive," Kat replied. "I guess he didn't expect anyone
to go over past records. I'm sorry, Jennie. What are you going
to do about . . . sorry, none of my business."
Jennie smiled a mirthless smile. "It's okay, Kat." Kat
looked up at the unexpected use of the shortened form of her name.
"I'll do as you suggested, get the bank to get me a copy of the
transactions. I have to be sure."
Kat nodded slowly. There wasn't much else to say. She
changed the subject. "I made out the shopping list for your
trip into town. I hope I haven't left anything out. I'd hate
to have you make a second trip."
Jennie smiled. "You? You're about the most organized person
I've ever met. If you've forgotten something it'll have been an
honest mistake." She studied the list, nonetheless.
"Any mail?" she asked before turning to leave.
"It's on the counter."
Fred rushed in at that moment, breathing heavily. He held a
small package in his hand. "Not too late for the mail?" Kat faded
back into the office doorway.
"Not at all Fred, put it in the bag with the rest," Jennie
answered.
Kat noted that it was a film package. Fred was sending
something out to be developed. How interesting. She decided she
would like to see those photographs.
"By the way, Fred?" Jennie stopped him as he pushed open
the door.
"Yes?"
"Do you know what's wrong with Tom. He seems real grumpy
this morning."
Kat held herself still, wondering how Fred would answer this.
"Tom? Yeah, I noticed. I don't know, I guess maybe
something's gotten into him - ah, probably just some pain in the
ass. I wouldn't worry about it." He stepped through the door
and left.
Jennie was torn between going after Fred to find out just
what he'd meant - Fred never used language like that - and turning
to investigate the choking sounds she'd heard behind her. By
the time she made up her mind the sounds had stopped and Fred was
gone. Jennie shrugged her shoulders and left also. It would be
a long ride into town.
Mel met her at the truck and they got in. Jennie noticed
that Mel lowered himself carefully to the seat and grimaced as
he sat down. She shook her head and wondered what the hell was
going on around the place.
By the time the truck had returned to Hotsprings Campsite
late that afternoon she had no more idea than before. Mel
hadn't been exactly the most congenial traveling companion.
Stacy met them as they pulled up. She picked up her package
from Jennie then went around to the other side of the truck.
When Mel eased himself from the cab she gave him a quick hug
and, Jennie noted, his butt a quick squeeze. Her eyebrows
raised a fraction. Perhaps that was what was going on. She
knew how Tom had been after Stacy, and if Stacy was now going
out with Mel it would certainly account for his mood. She
smiled to herself.
Having solved that mystery, to her satisfaction, she
aided the others in unloading the truck, then went up to her
room for a short rest.
It was a relief to be alone. The trip back had been
a difficult one. The bank told her that they would have the
records she requested ready in a day or two and would drop
them off with the post office to be taken out to the site with
the regular mail run.
The wait would be a hard one. She took a deep breath to
calm herself. It didn't work. Did she really want to know,
she wondered? Was it really worth it to be put in a position
where she would have to do something? If she knew nothing she
would not have to take any action. Suspicions didn't really
mean anything. Did they?
Jennie took another breath. Yes, they did. And yes, she
had to know. The situation was getting out of control and she
had to take action. How Jake would feel about it . . . . She'd
handle that when it came up.
One good thing. Since Kat had arrived, the operations of
the campsite were going more smoothly than ever before. She had
a knack for organization and it seemed to be rubbing off on the
rest of the staff. She was a perfectionist, Jennie decided, and
that wasn't bad at all.
"You were right, Fred. I made a mistake and now, by God,
I'm fucking paying for it." Tom leaned over the counter of the
closed diner pitching his words for Fred's ears only, in spite
of the fact that there was no one else in the room. "It's
god-damned terrible, you know . . ." His voice trailed off.
"Does it hurt much?" Fred asked, putting as much sympathy
as he could in his voice.
"Nah. The terrible thing is, well, ah, I'm getting used to
the damned thing."
Fred coughed to smother the laugh which almost escaped.
He hadn't been expecting that. "And?"
"And the worst part is, every so often it gives me a hard-on.
Makes working kind of unpleasant. Once you get one, you know, it
doesn't go away all that easily. Then I get thinking about things,
you know, and that just makes it worse." He lowered his voice even
more. "Hell, once I had to go to the washroom to, ah, relieve
myself. It got that bad."
Fred wasn't sure he wanted to be hearing this. He looked at
his watch. "Well, you're through the first day. Only two more to
go."
"Yeah, only two more to go," Tom repeated. "Now I got to go
see the Bitch, get it undone - damn."
"Problem?"
"Yeah. I tried to cut the damned thing off, but it's wire
cored, I couldn't. No way she'll miss it. I hate to think of
what she'll do. What do you think she'll do?
Tom was on his knees, leaning over a chair, both hands
in leather cuffs and attached to the belt. He now knew what
the Bitch would do.
Kat had not been pleased with the damage to the belt and
cords. Or so she had let on. Actually, it was as she had
hoped. If he'd just settled for wearing the plug, then gone
back to being his normal recalcitrant self, little would
have been gained by the whole exercise. Now he would learn
something and his resistance would be worn down by wondering
what else she could do.
"You disappoint me, Tom. I thought we had an understanding.
Now I'm faced with this damage you've done. Have you any idea
how much these toys cost?"
"I'll replace the damn things, Kat. Just take them off."
He wasn't ready yet. The damn things, as he put it, had
already been taken off. He was wearing a new belt now and Stacy
was standing in front of him, preparing the new plug.
"Unfortunately," Kat smiled at him, "I don't have any plugs
of the same size as the one you damaged." She sounded saddened,
by the fact. She wasn't. "So we'll just have to get by with
one a little larger." Her smile widened as he grit his teeth.
"But I'm sure you'll love it just as much as the other one,
maybe more." She nodded to Stacy who walked around behind Tom
and placed it at his anus. "Tell Stacy when you want it inserted,
Tom." He glared at her, hating her.
"Now." Best to get it over with. He let out a gasp as
Stacy drove the lubed plug in hard and fast, then worked it
around a bit. He closed his eyes in mortification as his cock
rose once more.
"You were right, Mistress Kathryn, he likes it." Stacy
stroked his cock a few times before threading the cords through
their slots, tightening them and locking them in place. "See
how big he's getting."
"Okay, Kat. It's in. Now undo these damned cuffs and let
me go."
"Not so fast. How do I know you won't damage these ones
as well?"
"I won't." His voice was filled with the frustration he
was feeling.
"Perhaps if you gave up something of value - a hostage,
so to speak." Kat wondered how he would react to what was
coming.
"What do you mean?" He was confused.
"How about I take possession of your little collection
until you've fulfilled your obligation."
Tom's eyes widened as the realization came to him.
"You sneaking Bitch! How dare you . . ." He stopped
suddenly, not wanting to get her any more angry than she already
was. "Okay. Deal."
Kat and Stacy helped him to his feet and Kat led him,
using his cock as a leash, naked, down the hall to his room
where she confiscated his panty collection. She sent them, with
Stacy, back to her room while she undid the wrist cuffs.
She looked up at his red face. "You are beginning to annoy
me, Tom. Next time I hear you call me 'Bitch', I will burn one
item in your collection. Do you understand?"
Tom nodded.
"Do you understand." There was more power in her voice this
time.
"Yes, Kat."
"Yes, Mistress Kathryn," Kat corrected him.
"Not on your life you B . . ." Tom stopped himself in time.
"Close. I should burn one anyway, but I won't. Okay, I'll
give you a break." She paused, tossing her head imperiously, then
continued. "Yes, Kathryn," she prompted.
"Yes, Kathryn," Tom mumbled.
She smiled and left, leaving Tom standing, his head bowed,
dejectedly.
Kat went to get herself a snack and found Fred in the kitchen,
apparently with the same idea. He nodded at her.
"How are things?" he asked politely.
"Progressing well," she replied. "He's coming along very
well. It won't be too much longer and he'll willingly do what I
ask."
"You have a high opinion of yourself," Fred replied as he
cut a few slices of cheese and put them on the crackers he'd
set on a plate.
"It's experience talking, my dear man. He believed he could
beat me and, believing that, he was himself beaten." Kat swiped
one of the cheese topped crackers and popped it in her mouth.
"And me?" Fred was curious.
"You're too smart for that." Kat shrugged, which loosened
her robe slightly, showing more cleavage. "You know that if
you don't play the game you can't be beaten, right?"
Fred nodded, his eyes drawn back to her cleavage no matter
what he told them to do. She shrugged her shoulders again and
the robe was further loosened.
"So, what I have to do is find a way to convince you to play.
It can be fun." She followed him as he abruptly turned and left
for the common room.
Fred seated himself in the stuffed chair and picked up his
book from the coffee table. Kat smiled and sat across from him.
Now her robe had parted at the top and her nipples were almost
visible. She was not wearing a bra.
"Why not play," she asked reasonably, it can be rewarding."
She shifted, bringing her left breast into view, nipple erect
from brushing against the robe and from the thrill of the hunt.
Fred swallowed hard, then looked her in the eye. "No sale."
He turned his attention back to his book.
"Fred?" He looked up to see her standing, removing her robe
entirely. She bent over, letting her breasts hang down and sway
as she picked up another of Fred's crackers. She had his full
attention. "If you want to discuss this further, I'll be up
for the next half hour." Her green eyes gleamed with suppressed
laughter, "and I won't kick you out of bed for eating crackers."
With hips swaying, she walked out of the common room and
down the hall to her own room. Now she'd see.
Forty minutes later Kat gave a loud sigh and turned off the
light. It had been worth a try. It had been a bit of a shock
to find that he could so easily resist her body. Ah, well,
there would be a way to reach him, she knew. She'd just have
to search harder for it.
In his room, lying on his back, staring at the ceiling,
Fred wondered at both himself and at her. He had been almost
tempted to take her up on her unspoken offer. There would
not have been a price tag - this time. She was counting on
him being hooked. Thus, he could have used her, as Tom had
counted on using Stacy. Perhaps that was why he hadn't, because
it would be 'using'. He gave a short, harsh laugh. Perhaps he,
also, was playing a game. Not hers, but his own, which demanded
this sort of honor. As Tom would say, 'damn, damn, damn'.
Why was it so important that she get him? The thought
kept him awake for longer than he would want to admit. Finally,
though, he fell to sleep. Tomorrow would be another day.
Tom felt the pressure inside him. His cock was hard and
throbbing. If only she hadn't taken his collection. Now
would be the perfect time for it. He moved about a bit, causing
the plug to move within him, exciting him. It wasn't so bad
after all. If only he could remove it when he wanted to.
He considered the situation. Well, he had the woody, he
might as well get some enjoyment out of it. He lay on his
back with a pillow under his knees and began stroking himself.
He pulled his legs up and pushed against the pillow with his
heels, which then pushed against the plug.
"Ah, yes," he moaned and began to work his hand faster
and faster. Not finding the pillow giving enough force, he
reached his other hand down and began working the plug to
the extent he could. God, it felt good. He'd never known
this before. It was something he could be thankful to Kat
for. He grabbed his handkerchief from the night table and
wrapped it around his cock - no use getting the bed all wet.
It was getting closer, closer. He could feel the tightness,
the need. His legs pushed his ass off the bed and he groaned
as the point of no return was reached. He stroked faster and
harder and then he was coming. His legs gave way and the tapered
end of the plug came down on the pillow, jolting him back up,
then down again, on his side this time, still stroking. His
anus contracted rhythmically around the plug, the sensation
new and exciting. He almost thanked Kat for the plug. What
other toys might she have?
As he drifted off to sleep he wondered what it would feel
like if he put a vibrator against the plug - if he had a
vibrator.
End of Chapter 8, Hotsprings by Delta.
HOTSPRINGS
Chapter 9
"My God, what a day!" Tom spat out after the last customer
left the Lunch Bar. "What do you think of that?" He grimaced as
he sank down onto one of the stools. It was a relief to be off of
his feet.
Fred wiped the sweat off his face with his sleeve. It had
been brutal. The stream of customers hadn't let up at all.
There had been no time for a break, let alone a meal. He was
exhausted. He sat down beside Tom.
"I still don't believe it," he said. "I've never seen
anything like it. How can you do this for a living?"
Tom was surprised. He had forgotten that Fred was a
newcomer to the kitchen. "I like to cook," he said simply.
"People come in here hungry and I feed them. It feels good.
They come in here wanting and walk out satisfied. Look at their
faces sometime. A good meal in them and they are all smiles -
or at least content. It's a good job, really. It harms no one
and makes many happy."
Fred was impressed. He hadn't thought of it in that way,
and he'd never even considered Tom as a 'humanitarian'. It was
only then that he realized that cooking was Tom's vocation. He
hadn't fallen into it, hadn't taken it up because there was
nothing else, he truly loved it. Fred revised his image of
Tom upwards a notch.
"But doesn't it get to you sometimes - like today?"
Tom grinned. "Yeah. Sometimes. Like today. I'm so
tired I don't even think I'm hungry. Sure as hell I'm not
cooking anything for myself now, nor for you, partner." He
laughed at Fred's look of pain. "How about a sandwich then,
say, peanut butter and jelly."
"You're a cruel man, Tom. Okay, I'll fix us something.
Any preference?"
"Anything, as long as I don't have to cook it. That's the
one problem with this job. After a day like today you just
don't want to cook for yourself and, if you do, you don't enjoy
the food." He rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth.
The door swung open and the two men hung their heads at
the sound.
"I thought *you* locked it," Tom muttered to Fred as he
turned to see who it was.
It was Stacy. "Hi boys." She was carrying a tray with
two bowls and some fresh bread on it. "I saw how busy you
were and thought I'd bring you something to eat. It's my
specialty - goulash. Careful, it's hot." She set the tray
down and placed one bowl in front of each man.
Tom was dumbfounded. After yesterday he wouldn't have
thought Stacy would give him a second thought. Maybe she'd
enjoyed it more than she let on.
"Thanks Stacy," he said, "you're a life saver. I was
almost ready to let Fred, here, cook for me."
Fred laughed. "Thank-you, Stacy. It smells great."
He rewarded her with a smile.
"Jesus H. Christ!" Tom had jumped up and backed away
from the counter, looking at the goulash as if it might rear
up and bite him. "What the hell did you put in it, a gallon
of Tobasco?"
Stacy clapped her hands together, delighted with Tom's
reaction. "I warned you it was hot."
"Yeah, but I thought you meant . . ." His voice trailed
off as he watched Fred sniff at it, almost suspiciously, before he
carefully lifted the spoon to his mouth and tasted it cautiously.
"Dear Lord, that's hot." Sweat broke out on his brow. He
took another taste. "But it's good," he admitted. "Where did
you learn to make this?"
"My grandmother. She loved hot dishes."
Tom approached the counter once more, leaned over and took
a whiff. With trepidation he picked up his spoon once more and,
as Stacy watched him intently, carefully took another taste. He
shuddered and stuffed some bread into his mouth. After he
swallowed that, he turned back to Stacy.
"Fred's right. It is good." He sounded almost surprised.
"My compliments." He dipped the spoon back into the bowl.
"Why, thank you Tom. You don't know what it means to me
to see you enjoy it. Anyway, I have to go. Mistress Kathryn
wants me for something. Enjoy." She turned and left.
"That was nice of her," Fred commented. "I'm a bit
surprised."
"Yeah, me too. Better eat up before she changes her mind."
The pounding on her door brought Kat out of a deep sleep.
"What is it?" she mumbled, fumbling for the bedside lamp. It
blinded her and she looked away. The knocking continued.
"Coming," she called. Squinting at the clock, she made out
the time: 1:10 a.m.
"This had better be good," she glared at the door as she
pulled her robe about her. She could make out a voice calling
her name softly but urgently. Tom?
"What is it, Tom?" Kat asked, curious at this late night
visit. Tom looked distraught, she noted as she squinted against
the light.
"I gotta go, Kat. Please unlock me. Quick."
Understanding came swiftly, bringing Kat totally awake
instantly. Such a gift had to be utilized carefully.
"I thought we had an understanding, Tom. Do you realize
how late it is?"
"Kat, please," he was desperate, "unlock me, please."
Kat's eyes gleamed brightly. "But, Tom," she said, the
voice of reason, "shouldn't we talk about the consequences
of this interruption first. I told you that you would be at
risk if you disturbed me."
"Anything - I agree to anything, just unlock me. Kat,
Kathryn, please, I'm begging you, quickly." It looked like
he was near to tears.
"Very well, Tom, put on the wrist cuffs."
Tom's hands were trembling as he held them out. Kat
locked a wrist cuff on each wrist, something she hadn't done
previously, before fastening his left hand to the belt. Then
the rear lock was released and Tom hurried down the hall to
his room.
"What's going on, Mistress Kathryn?" a very curious,
sleepy Stacy asked. She had, apparently, been awakened by
the knocking.
"Something very good, Stacy," Kat replied. "Something
very good. You will wait here with me and we will see what
we will see."
"Yes, Mistress Kathryn."
Tom was a little apprehensive as he approached Kat's
room. Apprehensive and a little excited. What did she have
in mind for him now? His anger at having to wear the butt
plug had diminished considerably since he had discovered
its erotic potential. Now he was almost looking forward to
seeing what other toys and/or ideas Kat might have.
Perhaps he had been a little bit hasty in his earlier
blanket condemnation of her. On the other hand he didn't
enjoy feeling like a little school kid again, having to ask
permission to go to the can. And she was responsible for
that, too. The Bitch.
He stopped short of Kat's door and shook his head
angrily. She had almost had him there. This was probably
all part of her plan. Well, it wouldn't work. He had
just one day to go, then he'd be after her again. This
time, however, he wouldn't make any stupid mistakes like
the one he'd made with Stacy.
He had been a fool to fight with Kat on the ground
of her own choosing. He would not make that mistake again.
Tom closed his terry cloth bath robe as best he could,
what with his left wrist locked to his waist, and knocked
lightly on Kat's door. To his surprise it was Stacy who
opened it and bade him enter.
"Well, Tom. You've awakened me at one in the morning.
What do you have to say for yourself." Kat looked quite
lovely in her silk robe, her fiery locks tumbling down about
her shoulders.
"I had no choice." Tom was damned if he was going to
grovel. He presented his left side for her to unlock his
wrist. She made no move to do so.
"There is always a choice, Tom. Your choice, it seems,
was to risk punishment. Perhaps that is what you wanted?"
Kat chuckled and Tom felt the hairs on the back of his neck
stand at the sound. "Let me have your right wrist."
Tom hesitated, yet knew there was little he could do.
He'd have to take whatever she had planned. He held his
hand forward. Kat took it and, pushing open his robe,
fastened it to the belt on the other side of his waist.
Thank God he'd put on a pair of underwear before coming
to her room!
"Well, Tom. As I said, there is always a choice. Now
I have another one for you. I've heard that you've been calling
me 'Bitch' again. That's not nice. And you've been calling
Stacy here 'Pussy'. Bad manners, Tom, bad manners. It's time
you realized that there are consequences for such actions."
Tom swallowed hard. He wasn't going to like this. Kat
smiled at his reaction.
"You said there was a choice," he asked, licking at his
lips which were suddenly dry.
"I did. Now, let's see. Bitch and Pussy, hmm. Okay, Tom,
you have the choice. Would you rather be 'pussy whipped' or a
'lap dog'?"
Tom looked at her in confusion. What the hell kind of a
choice was that. Suddenly the first became clear and he turned
his head to look at Stacy. Her eyes were bright with excitement.
She, too, understood. She looked at Tom and smiled. He didn't
like the look of that smile at all.
Stacy was too vindictive, it came to him. The times she'd
put the butt plugs in him, she could have been gentle. She
hadn't been. She'd forced them in quickly, causing the most
discomfort and pain possible, not giving him time to relax at
all. She liked inflicting pain too much, he thought. No, he'd
stay as far away from her as possible.
"I'll be a 'lap dog'," he replied, and was rewarded as
the light faded from Stacy's eyes. He turned to Kat to find
out just what was in store.
"I thought that might be your choice." Kat smiled her
wicked smile and Tom's stomach did flip-flops. He wondered
if he had made a wise decision.
Kat was sitting on the end of her bed and she motioned
him over. He moved until he was standing in front of her,
looking down.
"First. Lap dogs don't wear underwear," she smiled
and motioned to Stacy who quickly moved to remove his shorts.
"Next, they wear collars." She reached inside her robe's
pocket and pulled out a collar and showed it to him.
"Hmm. I think I like you better on your knees. Stacy. A
pillow for his knees."
Stacy hurried to place a pillow on the floor. Tom
carefully got to his knees on it. Kat put the collar on
his neck. He blushed. This was a little degrading, but
also a little exciting. He wondered what was coming next.
He didn't have long to wait as Kat pulled out a cord with
a snap on it and hooked it onto his collar.
"Now for the fun part," Kat grinned. She stood, passed
the leash under her robe, between her legs and did something
with it behind her back.
Kat looked Tom over carefully. "No. this won't work
well after all. Stacy, unfasten his wrists and refasten them
to the collar." She waited. "Yes, perfect."
Tom's hands were now in front of him. He had about an
inch or two of play between the wrist cuffs and the collar.
Kat sat down on the bed and the leash grew taut, pulling his
head forward a little. She started inching her way back on
the bed and Tom was drawn forward, bit by bit. She opened
her legs to accommodate him.
Now she was well back on the bed, her legs wide, with
his torso in between, his head close to her sex. Tom looked
up and saw that her robe had parted and her cunt was there,
just in front of him. He felt a tug on the leash as she
reached behind her back and pulled, drawing him ever closer.
The leash was attached to a belt, similar to his, which she
was wearing. He was locked there, his nose almost in her.
Her musky aroma surrounded him and he felt his cock beginning
to stir.
He was still kneeling on the pillow, his hips about a
foot away from the bed, his torso resting on his forearms,
his nose now almost upon her cunt. What a position. Cunning
Bitch, he thought.
"Tom," she spoke at last. "You can start any time. I
think you know what to do."
Indeed he did. If this was punishment, she could punish
him any time she wanted. He stuck out his tongue and gave a
preliminary lick at her inner thighs. He'd show her how an
expert went to work!
Tom lick-kissed his way up her thigh, almost to her lips,
then jumped to her other thigh and lick-kissed his way down
as far as he was able to. Then he started his way back up again
and over once more. He continued this until he heard Kat's
breathing quicken just that little bit. Then he continued, but
gave her outer lips a quick kiss on his way past her pussy each
time. Kat's breathing picked up a little more.
Suddenly Tom stopped as an idea hit him. Try to punish
him, would she? He'd have her begging for his attention before
he was through here. She had finally made a mistake he could
capitalize upon. Grinning to himself he began to blow lightly
on Kat's pussy from a fraction of an inch away.
Kat raised herself to him, but he backed away as she did
so. Not yet, my little pet, not yet. He returned to her inner
thighs, knowing that it would frustrate her. Her outer lips
were getting quite puffy and her aroma was becoming more
pronounced as the first drop of her juices appeared.
Tom couldn't resist it and his tongue lunged up to capture
the drop. Kat's body shook slightly - did he hear a small groan?
He calmed himself and went to work once more, now focusing on her
outer lips, with the odd foray to the inner ones - avoiding her
clit entirely. Every so often he returned to her thighs to let
her cool down a little. He well knew that the last thing she
wanted, just now, was to cool down. That was why he did it.
Kat was in a quandary. If she allowed Tom to do as he
pleased, he might drive her crazy. If she directed him to hurry,
she would be letting him know that his plan was working, that he
and not she was in control. Had her scheme backfired? Tom was
taking advantage of his position, her position, and it seemed
there was nothing she could do - except relax and enjoy it.
She had reached a minor plateau and was settling into it
nicely when he began another assault on her equilibrium. He
suddenly took her inner lips in his and began sucking on them.
She gasped and began moving her hips slightly. He stopped. The
man was infuriating.
Ah, he was back at it again, now giving her long ice-cream
licks, his tongue soft and gentle. "Ah!" The flick against her
clit surprised her and her whole body shuddered.
Was that a chuckle she heard from between her legs? There
was no time to dwell on that question as Tom began to move in
earnest. It was lick, kiss, suck, soft tongue, hard tongue, flick,
stab and rest. His head moved, seemingly at random, as his focus
swept from her clit to her thighs, to her inner lips, outer and
back again.
Kat knew she was being driven ever higher by a master
tonguesman who seemed to divine whenever she approached orgasm.
At that moment he would stop, right there, right on the point of
ecstasy, detour and allow her to settle down - at a plateau which
was higher than before, beyond where the orgasm should have flowed
through her body - before driving her yet higher.
Every nerve in Kat's body was begging for release. Her breath
came in gasps and pants, the muscles in her legs trembling,
quivering. Her nipples were engorged, hard, sensitive and she
stroked them lightly whenever Tom allowed her a breather.
Kat had determined that he would bring her off, she would not
use her sensitive nipples to trigger her own orgasm. One problem,
which she had not foreseen, was the unexpected safety valve. Every
time her hips raised off the bed with the impending orgasm the
stimulation was removed, for Tom could not follow her upwards.
She cursed: that last time she'd been within an ace of coming
when she'd moved uncontrollably out of Tom's reach. It was as if
her own body were betraying her.
Kat brought her legs up and placed them over Tom's shoulders.
Without her feet on the bed she couldn't get away from his tongue.
Indeed, that was her purpose. Tom seemed to understand the motion
and his focus became her clit.
Lick, flick, suck and rest. Her body was charging up the
slope towards release. Lick, flick, suck and rest. Higher and
higher. Circle and flick. Tremors ran through her and her back
arched. Lick and grind. Legs were trembling, muscles shivering
like she was hypothermic, yet she was hot, so hot, the flush
spreading over her body. Lick, flick and - oh my God - Nip!
Lungs working like a bellows, yet unable to take a full breath,
vision blurred; center of the universe deep within - myriad
strings of colored lights in the darkness - outer world misty,
irrelevant. Lick, flick, suck and rest.
Lick, flick, suck and . . . Joy. Euphoria! Release and
exultation. Her body arched and held a long moment as she cried
out and pinched her nipples hard, then slowly, oh so slowly, with
a long sigh, relaxed and came to rest, drained of all energy.
Tom listened as Kat's breathing slowly returned towards
normal. He looked at his own feelings with astonishment. In the
beginning he had planned to make her beg for release, yet that
had changed in the moment that he realized that she was working
with him. His admiration of her, previously unrecognized, grew.
The chances she was taking with him! He had understood the
possibility of turning the tables on her, knew that she understood
the risk also. Yet she had allowed him his pleasure, his
chance. Astonishing, also, was that he did not take it.
He could have stopped at several points and caused her to
either beg him to continue or be forced to admit defeat and
bring herself off. And, true, he had stopped at those very points,
yet only momentarily, only long enough for her to prepare for the
next drive up the slope to orgasm. She had impressed him deeply.
Now, with the orgasm passed, he was gently lapping up her
juices, drunk with her taste and her aroma which he was unable
to escape, even had he wanted to. Yes, just gently lapping
away, avoiding her clit, which must be extremely sensitive at
this moment. The thought of trying to push her into multiple
orgasms had crossed his mind, yet he knew, somehow, that was
not what she desired and so acquiesced in that as well.
"Tom?" Her voice was soft.
"Yes?"
"That was quite wonderful. Thank you."
"You're welcome." He was surprised. He hadn't expected
such generosity.
"That was not your punishment - of course," she continued,
and he cringed. "Now, for the rest of the night, you will
continue to do what you are doing. Be the 'lap dog'. You
will not try to excite me further, just allow me to drift
warmly off into wonderful dreams. You will not stop, nor will
you wake me by pushing too hard. You will not speak. Have
a nice night Tom."
Kat pulled a sheet over herself - though it was warm - she
had been perspiring copiously and as the perspiration evaporated
it would cool her. The sheet came over him, also, and would
concentrate her scent until it became almost overpowering.
He doubted that she had done this by chance.
Tom's tongue was tired and his jaw ached. His knees were
locked and he wondered if he was destined to remain for the
rest of his life in this position. He had fallen to sleep once,
only to be awakened by her heel nudging him. He wondered if
she would remember that upon awakening and punish him further.
Actually, he didn't care. All night long he had been
breathing in her musky aroma, reveling in the sensations it
caused in him. Never before had he been in such a position for
such a length of time. The only bad part was that he had been
excited for so long without any relief - he could not contact
anything with his cock - that he now had 'blue balls'.
"The agony and the ecstasy," he murmured to himself just
as Kat began to stir.
"Well, Tom," she purred. "And how are you this fine
morning?"
"Please, Kat . . ." he began, but was interrupted.
"Mistress Kathryn."
Tom considered this for a moment. If he refused, the
possibility of a return to her bed was about nil. Suddenly
he realized that this frightened him - very much.
"Please, Mistress Kathryn," he said, and heard her murmur
her approval of his words, "I need some relief." He could almost
hear her smile.
"Very well. Yet you were remiss in your duties last
night. Twice you woke me and once you fell asleep. This sort
of negligence cannot be tolerated."
Tom wished that he could see her, but the sheet was still
over his head. Had that been humor in her voice?
"Stacy."
Tom's stomach jumped inside him. Within seconds there
was a knock at the door. How had she heard? Kat's voice
hadn't been loud.
"Enter."
"Yes, Mistress Kathryn?" It was Stacy. Tom wished he
could see her as well.
"The puppy needs to be petted," there was the hint of a
laugh in Kat's voice.
"Yes, Mistress." Stacy sounded a little dejected.
"He also needs to be disciplined."
"Yes, Mistress." There was no mistaking the elation.
"As we discussed, then."
"Yes, Mistress."
"Okay, Tom, this is how it works. Stacy will provide the
relief you so desperately desire. However, you must be punished
as well. She has a paddle which she is going to use on you.
She will stop only when you come. It's in your own interest to
come quickly - unless, of course, you enjoy it. In that case,
feel free to delay as long as you wish."
Tom felt his bathrobe being lifted, exposing him. A cool
hand slid around his cock and began to stroke it very lightly.
He sighed in relief, then jerked as a blow came down on his
buttocks.
It wasn't fair. As Stacy stroked him he became harder and
drew nearer to coming. Then the paddle would descend and the
pain would totally distract him. Not to the point where he
went soft, but enough to drop him a level in his quest for
orgasm. It was ironic, he thought. That was what he'd been
doing to Kat earlier.
Stacy was also cheating. The closer he came to coming,
the lighter her strokes, denying him the friction needed to
overcome the pleasure barrier. He wanted to rock his hips,
to become more involved, but that would mean moving his
knees. He shuddered. He'd have to do that sooner or later
and wasn't looking forward to it.
There had to be a way out of this. There had to be one.
It came to him.
Stacy was in her glory now. She had Tom right where she
wanted him. On his knees in front of her. Helpless. She licked
her lips and brought down the paddle just a little harder than
before. His cry brought a wolfish smile to her lips.
How much harder could she hit without Mistress Kathryn
turning the tables on her as she'd threatened to do with Mel?
That was the question. She'd have to be careful.
He was getting close again. His breathing gave him away.
She lightened her touch and prepared to whack him again. Soon,
soon, yes now.
"Ow!" It was half gasp, half cry.
She felt him soften slightly and grinned. All the times
he'd taunted her, insulted her, harassed her. It was payback
time! She fondled his balls, cupped them, then gave them a
squeeze, applying just a little more pressure than was comfortable.
She was rewarded with a little yelp and felt herself begin to
moisten. In between swats she moved her own hand to her pussy
and began stroking herself.
Her other hand went back to his cock and began working on
it with a vengeance, then slowed and lightened her touch once
more as she struck him once again. This time, however, he didn't
lose the level of arousal he had attained. She hit him once more.
He continued climbing. Damnit.
Stacy was beside herself with her own arousal, which continued
to build without any further help from her fingers. Unconsciously
she tightened her grip on Tom, even as she struck him again and
again.
Then he was coming and she dropped the paddle and diddled
herself furiously until she, too, came. Kat's words came through
a fog.
"I think you overstepped your authority, Stacy. I'll have to
correct your impulses."
Stacy's heart sank.
Tom had used his imagination to defeat Stacy's plan for him.
Every time he was swatted he imagined that the blow drove him
inside Kat. After the expulsion of breath he would inhale deeply
of her fragrance and allow that to carry him higher. It had only
been a matter of time. When Stacy had lost control coming became
inevitable.
Kat had released her belt and unlocked his collar after
pulling the sheet off of him. The fresh air was both wonderful
and disappointing. It felt good to breathe the cool air, yet
the loss of Kat's aroma dulled the joy. He looked up at her as
she stood.
She held out a choker. It was an offer he couldn't refuse.
As he accepted it she dropped the key to his belt on the bed.
"Go take a shower, then join us for breakfast."
It was an order. His first. He nodded at her. "Yes,
Mistress." He flopped carefully onto his side as Kat and Stacy
moved to her shower. Now to move the knees. It wasn't going to
be any fun. His servitude, however, might prove to make up for
that - and then some.
End of Chapter 9, Hotsprings by Delta. delta@bc.sympatico.ca
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