Message-ID: <1333eli$9706091250@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: Path: qz!not-for-mail Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: From: Delta 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 It is not to be published in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs, without the express prior consent of author.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 -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /