Hotsprings 4/6 (MF, FF, d/s, etc.)

  
                         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 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."


                         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 it's 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.