Hotsprings 5/6 (MF, FF, d/s, etc.)

                         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.
     "Thank's 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.


                          Chapter 10

     Jennie walked in to the dining room and looked from one
neck to another.  Three chokers.  She shook her head.  Things 
were becoming quite clear.
     "Interesting new uniform," she said dryly.  "But, Fred, 
you seem undressed.  Where is your choker?"  Jennie did her best
to remain calm.
     "They don't look good on me, Jennie."  He smiled.  "Kat
offered me one of hers, but the color was all wrong."  If he
noticed Kat tightening at his words, he gave no sign.
     "It's nice that my staff can play so well together," Jennie
commented.  "It looks like an interesting game.  You must tell
me more about it  -  sometime.  Maybe I'll play too."  
     It amused her to see the startled looks from around the 
table.  Mel's jaw had dropped open, and Stacy and Tom stared at 
her, wide eyed.  Fred had raised an eyebrow and looked somewhat
interested while, Kat merely contemplated her calmly, not giving
anything away.
     "To business.  Big Jake called me this morning and says he
has good news.  He'll be back at the end of the week for a few
days, before returning to clear up the remaining details.  I told 
him how proud I am of all of you, and I thought I'd take this 
opportunity to thank you all for helping me so much since he left."
She smiled at all of them.
     "Kathryn.  If I could see you for a few minutes?"  At Kat's
nod she turned to leave, but not before noting, with amusement,
how everyone rose from the table as Kat rose.  

     "What do you think she meant by that, Fred?"  Tom asked as
he sank back down into his chair.
     "I don't know.  Jennie's no dummy.  I'd guess that she
knows exactly what's going on," Fred replied.  "Speaking of that,
just what is going on?"  He waved negligently at Tom's throat.
     Tom looked a little sheepish.  "It's not as bad as it 
looks.  Hey, I was wrong about her."
     "You mean she's not a dominatrix?"  Fred asked, wide eyed.
     Tom looked disgusted.  "No.  I mean she's not a Bitch, well,
not really."  He was having a hard time explaining.  Finally he
decided that he didn't have to.  "Let's just say that we made
a . . . 'mutually beneficial agreement'."  It was a phrase he'd
heard on the news that morning.
     "Okay, Tom.  I understand.  "It's your choice, after all."
     "You might think about joining us, Fred."
     "Yes, Fred.  Don't be a hold out."  It was Stacy who bent 
over him and removed his empty dishes.  She brushed her breast 
casually against his arm before straightening.
     "Why not join us, Fred?"  Mel asked.  "It's worth it."  At
Fred's piercing stare he added,  "To me, anyway."
     Fred stood and looked at each in turn.  "Did she tell you
to go to work on me?" he asked.  There was silence.  He looked
at Tom.  "Well, Tom, did she?"
     Tom shifted uncomfortably.  "Yeah, kid,"  he finally relented,
"she did."  At Fred's calculating expression he had to continue, 
"But, hey, Fred, it ain't so bad - really."
     "Okay, Tom."  He wasn't convinced.  He turned and left.
     Behind him there was a quiet.  Finally Mel stood up and 
looked at the others.
     "This isn't going to be easy, is it?"
     "If it was, Mistress Kat wouldn't have asked us," Stacy
replied, wondering how news of their failure would impact on
their position.  "We'll just have to try harder."
     "I think that would be a mistake, Stacy."  Tom was looking
at his hands.  "Let me talk to him first.  He has a stubborn
streak, and if it look's like we're ganging up on him, he'll
fight it all the harder."
     "Fred stubborn?  I don't believe it.  He's the nicest man
I've ever met."  Stacy was incredulous.
     "You haven't worked with him.  He never gives up.  He works
on things until he masters them.  He's not a good cook . . . ."
He stopped at the looks of disbelief.  "He's not.  He's a good
technician, though.  He doesn't have the flair to improvise, but
once he knows how to do something, he does it well, and he doesn't
stop until he knows how to do it well."  He looked at the doubting 
faces.  "Just give me some time, okay."  They nodded, unsure, yet
each deciding it was for the best.

     The evening air was cooler as of late and the steam rose
off the pool only to be caught by the light breeze and swept
in tendrils and wreaths around the deck.  It was a magical
place, Kat thought, as she slowly made her way down the steps
and into the hot water.
     She gasped as the heat surged about her mid-section.  There
were only a few guests in the water, but they were not the
object of her quest.  The owner of the black hair, his back
to her, was.  Why was he holding out so stubbornly, she wondered.
Time was slipping by too quickly; she had to step up the pressure.
     Another step down and the water took the weight of her
breasts.  It was a lovely feeling, having them cupped, supported,
by the warm water.  She waded slowly towards Fred, feeling her
will to do anything but relax in the all encompassing warmth of
the water fade.  She reluctantly brought her mind back to her 
task and launched herself into a soft breast-stroke in the deeper
waters where Fred stood.
     Like a shark, she grinned, as she approached him.  Her arms
came around him and she held him, allowing her body to slowly
move against him, her breasts squashed against his back.
     He hadn't even started.  He calmly spoke, without even 
turning his head.
     "Hello, Kat.  I've been expecting you."
     "You have?"  Curiosity lapped at her with the small wavelets
in the pool.
     "Of course.  The others have all been at me, it was only a
matter of time before their Mistress showed up."  It sounded to
Kat like there was a tinge of bitterness in his voice.
     "Well," she replied kindly, "you *are* the odd man out.  They
probably just want you to join the group."
     "I've been the 'odd man out', as you put it, all my life.
I'm used to it.  Is that the next step - to have everyone distance
themselves from me?"  There was more than just bitterness in his
voice, there was also a pained acceptance that came of knowing
what was to come.
     Kat slowly relaxed her hold on him, yet keeping a grip to 
avoid going under.  "No.  Of course not," she answered.  It was
a lie.  That was to have been the next step, but his comment
had caused her to change her mind.  "I would like you to come
closer, not be distanced from me - or us."
     Fred began slowly moving towards shallower water.  "Your
price is too high, Kat."
     Good, she thought.  Maybe that's the entry point.  "That's
something we could negotiate, Fred."  She let go of his shoulders
and settled to the bottom, shoulder deep.
     Fred turned around and looked down at her, then sank slowly
down until both of them stood with only their heads out of the
water.  "You don't seem to understand.  Any price is too high.  
There is no basis for any negotiation."
     Kat began to fume, yet her voice remained calm.  "Everyone
always pays a price for being close to another.  If any price
is too high a price, then you simply don't want to be close to
anyone.  Yet you have been very friendly to everyone, drawing
them to you.  Are you just using them, wanting from them, yet
willing to return nothing?  Is it all a cruel masquerade?
     "You know, I had the greatest respect for you."  She 
put emphasis on the past tense.  "Now, I wonder.  Stacy
would have done practically anything for you."  Fred's face
betrayed his surprise.  "She told me that you were the only man 
she had met who had treated her with respect.  Perhaps it's
just that you weren't willing to give anything and thus didn't 
want anything from her, either.  Is that it?  Just a case of
selfishness?
     "Why are you here, Fred?  You're hiding out here.  I know
it and you know it."  His face was made out of stone, Kat
thought, giving away nothing.  "Stacy, Mel, Tom and, yes,
Jennie and Jake are all here living.  They aren't playing
games - not major ones, anyway - they are *here*.  But not
you.  You're not living here, you are existing, no more.
     "You are using them, Fred," she said, contemptuously.
"Using - and what are you giving in return?"  If she made him
angry, perhaps something would come out.  She was out of 
patience, out of time, angry and willing to twist the truth 
to get a reaction.  Still, she thought, she was probably closer
to the truth than she realized.  As she spoke she recognized
that she believed what she was saying.  In any event, Fred
looked stung by her words.  She paused to give him a chance
to reply.
     "I've helped here," he was angry now, too.
     "But why?  Are you truly helping, or are you simply paying 
for your hiding place?"  That sank home.  He had cringed.
"Well?  No answer?"
     Fred seemed about to retort, then his face smoothed over
and he was calm once more.  Kat was impressed with this display
of control.
     "Very good, Kat.  You did that well."  There was no anger
now, no recriminations.  "I noticed that when you listed
all the people who were 'living' here, you left yourself off
the list.  Let's turn the tables a moment and look at you.
Let's see if you like answering questions.  Why are *you*
here?"
     "I'm here because I'm needed."  Kat had been ready
for the question.  She put all the sincerity, power and
quiet dignity she could into her response.  It worked.
Fred was stopped short.
     "I see," was all he said.  His back was to the side
of the pool and he pushed himself up and out.  Sitting on
the side of the pool he regarded Kat somberly.  "You're
needed," there was no doubt or sarcasm in his voice, "and
perhaps I'm not."  He looked at her a moment longer, 
appeared about to say something else, then thought better
of it.  He clambered to his feet and, without a word, 
turned and walked away.
     Kat was left standing in the water.  "No, damn it,
you are needed.  I need you."  But she only whispered it
and he was much too far away to hear.

     "Hi, Stacy.  How are things this morning?"
     Stacy looked up to see the mailman.  "Hi, Jim.  Good to 
see you again."  She gave him the benefit of a radiant smile.  
"Whatcha got for us today?"
     Jim opened his pouch.  "The usual.  Magazine or two for
you here, a few letters - looks like bookings are up, huh?"
He passed her the sheaf of mail.  Then he frowned, "Looks like
some bills as well - I guess they don't understand that they
aren't welcome.  Should I stamp them 'addressee unknown'?"
     Stacy laughed, and it was music to Jim's ears.  Things
had changed around here lately.  She was much more relaxed
than he had ever seen her.  She looked more lovely, too.
     "Nice choker," he commented.
     "You like it?"
     "Yeah.  Shows off your neck.  You look real good, Stacy."
     "Why, thanks, Jim."  She was a little surprised.  He'd
never noticed her before, she thought.  "Anything else?"
     Jim tore his gaze away from her and looked down into his
pouch.  "Oh, yeah, almost forgot.  Looks like someone had some
pictures developed.  Yeah, they're for Fred."
     "Did someone mention my name?"  Fred had seen the mail
arrive and had hurried over to see if he had anything.  Jennie
came in right behind him.
     "You bet.  Pictures?"
     "Yes.  I took some great shots of the moon rising over the
trees - at least I hope they are great.  Let's see."  He opened
the package, looked inside and drew out three of the pictures.
He didn't notice Kat drift into the room from the inner office
as he placed the photos on the counter.
     "They're very good, Fred," Kat commented.  "Let's see 
the rest."
     Fred was a little taken aback.  "Just more of the same,"
he said.  "I experimented with exposure, f-stop - that sort of 
stuff."  He picked up the photos from the counter and left the 
office, heading for his room.  Jim left right after him.  Kat 
returned to the inner office, leaving Jennie and Stacy in the 
outer office.
    "How are you feeling now, Stacy?" Jennie asked.
    "Just fine, Jenny, why?"  Stacy was confused.
    "Then it did the trick?"
    A sudden smile lit Stacy's face.  "Ah, that.  Yes, the 
laxative worked just fine."
    Jennie was puzzled by the choking sounds she heard from
the inner office.  Stacy merely shrugged and smiled.

     On his way up to his room Fred wondered if he hadn't made
a mistake by showing any of the photos.  If he had simply taken
his package and left, no one would have thought anything of it.
His refusal to show the rest, once he had shown some, might be 
questioned - and he didn't really want that.
     Once inside his room he opened his drawer and pulled out
the locked box.  Taking a key from his coin pocket, he unlocked
the box.  He sat there a moment and looked at the box, almost
reluctant to open it.
     Fred's head came up as he heard someone pounding up the
stairs then running along the hall.  Whoever it was stopped 
just outside his door and began to knock.
     "Fred, Fred!  Come quick.  Tom just cut himself badly."
It was Stacy and she was in a panic.
     He jumped up and opened the door to see Stacy bounding back
down the hallway, to the staircase.  
     "Hurry," she called back to him as she disappeared.  
     Fred was hot on her heels by the time she reached the lunch
bar.  Inside, Tom was sitting in a booth, holding his left hand.
A dishcloth had been wrapped around it.
     "Let me take a look Tom."  Concern for his friend echoed in
his voice.  His stomach was jumping.  He didn't want to see, but
had to look, to see what he could do.
     "I'll be okay, Fred.  It's not that bad.  Just handle the
counter for me, will you?"
     Fred turned toward the counter, then stopped short and turned 
back again. There had been something in Tom's voice - something 
funny.
     "Let's see the cut, Tom."  There was no longer the concern
in his voice.  It was, instead, flat.
     Tom looked up at him and grimaced.  "Sorry, kid."
     Fred looked sick.  He turned and ran back towards the
door, knowing what had happened.  In spite of the inevitability
of it, he ran back along the boardwalk and up the stairs.  At the 
top he stopped and walked back to his door, his heart thudding in 
his chest.  
     His door was open and he knew that he'd swung it closed
behind him when he'd left.  He swallowed, knowing what he'd see
when he stepped into the doorway.  He wasn't mistaken.  There,
on his bed, sat Kat, his photographs spread out in front of
her.  She looked up at his arrival and smiled.  She waved at
the photos in front of her and raised her eyebrows questioningly.
     "Well?" she asked.
     Fred looked at the pictures.  There were some shots of 
scenery, but by far the largest portion of them were of Jennie.
He closed his eyes briefly.  When he opened them once more, Kat
was holding up a picture.
     In it Jennie was floating in the pool on her back.  It had
been a nice night, Fred remembered, after the pool had closed.
He had looked out of his window and seen her.  To his amazement,
she hadn't been wearing a top.  Just the bikini bottoms.  No 
one would see her, she must have thought, but she had been wrong.
He had, and his camera was within reach.
     "What do you think will happen when Big Jake sees this?" Kat
questioned him.
     Fred felt sick.  It was all over.  He shook his head slightly,
feeling the bitterness washing through him.  He took a long look
at Kat, then smiled.  His smile widened a bit at her confusion.
     "Well, Kat.  I guess the worst case scenario is that we'll
both be fired."  He was calm now.  Nothing mattered here anymore,
so why get all upset.
     "Both?" Kat asked, surprised.
     "When I tell him of your little excursions into his apartment,
as well as your searches of the rest of our rooms, it's my guess
that is what will happen."

     It was Kat's turn to feel slightly sick.  She nodded slowly, 
as if to herself.  "So I did hear a door close," she confirmed.
     "Yes, you did.  Mine.  He's been looking for an excuse to
get rid of you.  Who'll believe someone who has been fired for
a break and enter when she complains of wrongful dismissal?  And
without you Stacy will never press sexual harassment charges."
There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Kat's stomach.  "Yeah,
he talked to me.  He was angry and needed someone to lay it all
on.  He picked me.  So, if you try to go against him in a court,
well, you know what that'd look like."
     She knew.  All her plans were going up in smoke.  The taste
of defeat was bitter in her mouth.  Maybe she could make a deal.
It galled her, but it didn't look like there was any other way
out.  Fred began to speak again and she looked up.
     "Of course, there's every possibility that Big Jake just won't
care about the picture.  He might just ask for a copy for himself.  
He's like that, you know."  Fred's mouth turned down and Kat 
wondered why.  She found out moments later as he continued.  "It 
doesn't really matter.  I'll have to leave anyway.  Just a 
difference between being fired and quitting."
     Fred moved to the closet and pulled out his suitcases.
     At that moment a door slammed down the hall.  It was Jennie's
door and considerable power had been used to close it.  Kat and
Fred exchanged glances before Kat jumped to her feet.  She stopped
at the doorway.
     "Leave or stay.  It doesn't matter to me anymore.  Keep your
damned pictures.  I didn't see them.  The last few minutes never
happened.  I've got bigger problems anyway."  She took a deep breath 
and hurried to catch Jennie before she left.

     She was just in time.  Jennie was just starting up the truck
when Kat reached her.
     "What is it, Jennie?" 
     Jennie didn't even look at her, she just kept her eyes
straight ahead fixed on a point on the wall - or perhaps far beyond
the wall.
     "Jennie?"  Kat's voice was quiet.
     "It's all on your desk.  Now I have to check it out myself.
Just let me be Kat.  Please."  There was a tremor in Jennie's
voice that struck Kat deep inside.  She wished there was something
she could do, but there was nothing.  Nothing except to let Jennie
do what she had to and to be there to catch her, later, if she
fell.
     "Okay, Jennie.  I'll wait for you.  No matter what time you
get back, I'll be here for you.  Come and see me."  
     Jennie put the truck in gear and backed out, then sped away.
Kat shook her head sadly and looked around at the campsite, the
complex.  It was such a nice place.  She realized she was holding
her breath and let it out slowly in a sigh.  
     Something felt a little strange and her gaze was drawn up, 
to the window of the common room.  Fred stood there, looking down.
With a shrug she dismissed him and walked back into the office to
see what Jennie had left on her desk.

     "The son of a bitch, the son of a bitch, the son of a bitch."
It was like a mantra, and Jennie repeated it as she sped down the
highway.  She almost lost control on a sharp turn and that jolted
her into paying attention to what she was doing.  She slowed 
until she was doing the speed limit.  No use getting herself
killed over it, was there?  It was a bitter thought.  Perhaps he'd
like that.  Why would he do it?  Why?
     The papers from the bank had spelled it out neatly.  He had
been paying rent on a house in town.  A search of his things in
their room had turned up an address.  The man was a fool.  Either
that or he wanted to be caught.
     Wasn't marriage supposed to be forever?  What had happened
to fidelity?  Why did he need to go elsewhere?  What could this
other woman give him that she couldn't?  Questions, questions,
but no answers forthcoming.
     Well, she'd see this 'other woman' and face her down.  There
was no way she was going to lose her man to anyone.   Did she
still want him?  Without warning that thought popped up.  She
examined it for long moments.  Yes, she decided, she still
wanted him.  But things were going to change, and the change
would be substantial.
     There it was, 1832 Rockwell.  A small house, probably
only one bedroom and no basement.  Jennie stared at the
house for a long time before deciding to get out of the
truck.  She was here.  She would do it.  To come this far and
then to back down - there was no sense to thinking like that.
She would see this other woman.
     The front gate closed smoothly behind her and she approached
the front door.  Her heart was pounding like a trip-hammer in
her chest.  She raised her hand to knock on the door, then
stopped suddenly, caught by the squeal from the back yard.
     Slowly, carefully she walked around the house, to the
gate at the back yard.  There was a high fence surrounding the
yard, with a lower gate.  She stood to one side of the gate then
carefully peered over it.  In the back yard, between her and
the garage, was a couple on the grass.  She froze.
     "Someone will hear us," the woman giggled.  She was 
struggling to keep her bikini bottoms from being dragged off
of her - unsuccessfully.  Now she was completely naked, distinct
tan lines pointing their way towards her crotch, and topping
her large breasts.
     "Don't worry," Big Jake replied, "it'll give them something
to talk about, maybe get them excited enough to give their 
husbands a thrill when they get home."  He lowered his shorts,
his cock standing out, proud and straight.
     "I love the way you get so hard for me," the woman gushed.
     "On your hands and knees, let those beautiful breasts
hang down."
     The woman complied, spreading her legs slightly.  She was
angled away from Jennie presenting her rear quarter.  Jennie
could also see her breasts hanging down, swinging slightly as
she swayed back and forth.
     Big Jake lay on his back and inched his way under her from
the side until one of her boobs was pressing against his face.
He began sucking on it and the woman began to coo softly.  Jennie
saw him reach out his hand and begin press between her legs which
she opened further to give him better access.  Her coos became
light moans as Big Jake's fingers went to work.
     Jennie wanted to break in on them, to confront Jake with his
infidelity, to slap the hussy and send her packing, but she found
she couldn't move.  She could only watch helplessly as her man
made love to another woman.
     Soon the hussy was trembling and moving her ass all over
the place.  Jennie heard the squishy sound as Jake's fingers 
suddenly popped out of her.  
     "Yes, yes.  Now, please, now.  Please."  The woman was 
begging.  Jennie felt the hurt spreading through her.  This hussy 
was begging the way Jake liked Jennie to beg when he was with her.
     Jake moved out from under the hussy and moved behind her,
his cock bobbing.  He positioned himself and thrust suddenly
into her.  The hussy cried out.  Jake withdrew then slammed in
again.  Each time his hips collided with her ass, a ripple like
a wave sloshed her breasts.  She lowered herself onto her elbows
so that her nipples would brush against the grass with each 
thrust.
     The woman was panting hard, now, as was Jake.  Jennie
closed her eyes.  She couldn't watch any more, but she could
hear, she could still hear.
     "Yes, baby, yes.  Fuck me hard, fuck me hard.  Oh, yes!"
     The sound of flesh slapping against flesh caused Jennie
to flinch.
     "Oh, Claire, you're so hot and wet."  The hussy's name
was Claire.  "Oh, God, you're good."
     Claire was whimpering now, Jake breathing hoarsely, beginning
to moan, himself. 
     "Yes, baby, yes.  Ohmygod, ohmygod!" Claire's voice went up
in volume and in pitch.  "Now, baby.  Ohgod, ohgod, OHGOD!" she
squealed.  Claire was a real squealer, Jennie thought.
     Jennie's eyes opened to see Claire fall forward with Jake,
still in her, following her down.  He continued to pump as she
shook in the throws of an orgasm.  Then he gave out with a groan
and plastered himself hard against her.
     Jennie turned away, tears streaming from her eyes, and made
her way back to the truck.
     It was a long, quiet ride back to Hotsprings Campsite.
Jennie drove.  She tried to not think, to simply exist, watch
the road and drive.  In the dark recesses of her being she
knew there was a great wail of grief building, but she refused
to recognize it, to allow it life.
     The truck came to a stop.  Hotsprings Campsite, the sign 
read.  Jennie closed her eyes against the tears, swallowed a small
sob, then turned onto the access road.  The Complex came into 
sight, the same as it always did, not looking any different, yet
seeming different nonetheless.
     She knew Kat would be waiting for her, as she had promised,
yet Kat was the last person she wanted to see.  Thus she was
surprised when she found that her feet had brought her to the
office door and her hands were opening it.  She didn't want to
see Kat now.  She would see her later.  She was inside, moving
towards the inner office, and there was Kat, coming out to
meet her.  The tinkling of the door chimes had alerted her.

     Kat kept her face expressionless.  She knew at a glance that
Jennie's worst fears had been realized and that she was fighting
to hold back the tears.  If Jennie wanted to cry, that was fine;
if she didn't, then Kat wasn't going to be the one to cause the
outbreak.
     "Go in and sit down.  I'll put up the closed sign."
     Jennie nodded and went inside.  Kat wasn't sure how she
would handle this, she had never been in a position like this
before.  She gave a mental shrug.  All she could do was her
best.  She went into the inner office and closed the door.
     "So?" she asked, keeping her voice neutral, as she sat
down opposite Jennie.
     "Yes." Jennie confirmed.
     "You are sure, no doubts?"
     An immense sadness molded Jennie's face.  "No doubts.  She
was there - they were there, together . . . the back yard . . ."
Jennie's face began to crumple then suddenly smoothed.  Her voice
was stronger, more confident.  "I saw them Kat.  In the back yard.
I *saw* them."
     It was the way Jennie said it, not what she said, that told
Kat everything.  How hard it must have been for her.
     "What did you do?"
     "I couldn't move.  I watched, then I just turned and left."
     "You didn't confront them?"  Damn.  That was the wrong thing
to say.  Jennie started to lose her composure, the tears started.
"Good."  Kat made her voice strong.  Jennie looked up, unsure.
"It makes it easier for us.  We'll have surprise on our side."
Jennie swallowed convulsively.  "He'll never know what hit him,"
Kat finished.
    Jennie nodded as she stood, then it was all too much for her 
and the tears broke forth.  Kat moved to her and held her close,
saying nothing, simply holding her, feeling Jennie's grip on her
tighten until it almost hurt.  It was a long while before she
relaxed her hold on Kat.
     "Thank you, Kat.  I'm going to go for a walk now.  A long
walk."
     "I'll be here when you get back.  You have a lot of thinking
to do?"  
     "Yes."  Jennie gave a small smile.  "You know, I've never
cheated on Jake.  There have been opportunities, you know . . ."
     "Yes, Jennie.  I know.  There would be.  You are a beautiful
woman, and I don't just mean what you see in the mirror."
     "Thanks, Kat.  Anyway, I never did anything about them.  Now,
I'm wishing I had."
     "You don't really mean that, Jennie."
     "Actually," Jennies voice strengthened, "I do."  She gave a
sudden smile, a true smile which caused her face to light up.
"No," she recanted, "I don't.  If I had, it would have been for
all the wrong reasons.  But now, now it's a different story.
Something's happened to me, Kat, and I can't explain just what.
I'm stronger now Kat.  I've been limiting myself - in so many ways.  
No more."  She paused for a moment, then continued, wistfully, "I 
just wish . . ."
     "Wish what, Jennie?"
     "Never mind.  It's too late.  He'll be back tomorrow.  I'm
going for that walk now."
     "I'll be here."
     "Thanks, Kat, more than I can say."  Jennie walked out the
door.
    
     Kat felt drained.  She started to sit down when the outer
door opened once more.  Damn.  She got back up.  It was Fred.  
She couldn't deal with him now.
     "I thought you were leaving."  There was no friendliness
in her tone.
     "I saw Jennie leave.  Is she okay?"  He seemed to really
want to know.
     Kat sighed.  "No, Fred, she's not.  But what do you care?"
     Fred looked like she had struck him.  A brilliant light seemed
to go off in her mind.
     "You *do* care, don't you?"  How had it been that she hadn't
seen it before.  An amazed smile broke across her face.  "You
really do care."  Fred nodded, miserably.  Suddenly there was
new hope.  Kat became business-like.
     "You once told me that unless you specifically agreed to it,
you didn't consider favors as being owed - or something like that,
right?"  Fred nodded.  "Well I have a deal for you.  You want to
help Jennie?"  He nodded once more.
     "Good.  I do too.  And I can - with your help."
     "What can I do," Fred wanted to know.
     Kat smiled and opened her drawer.  From within she pulled out
a choker.  "You can do what I tell you to.  Exactly.  Whatever and
whenever I tell you to do it.  Understand?"  She had him.  She just
knew that she had him.  Finally.
     "How long?"  Yes!
     "One week should do it.  After that you are free - if you wish
to be.  Do you agree?"
     Fred picked up the choker and fastened it around his neck.