Julia on Loan

"There's Arthur Page and his trophy wife," sniffed Mrs. Woodruff to her husband as Julia entered the theater lobby on Mr. Page's arm. "She's the daughter of that hedge fund operator Lindstrom. You remember - it was quite the scandal about three years ago when they found out his fund was a Ponzi scheme à la Madoff, and he committed suicide. He left her broke, desperate, and an orphan, just twenty-one years old. Page scraped her out of the gutter and married her."

"No need to ask what he saw in her," observed Mr. Woodruff, who fancied himself a connoisseur of willowy young blondes.

"Or what she saw in him," said Mrs. Woodruff. "They say he's worth a hundred million."

"So I've heard," said Mr. Woodruff, carefully concealing his envy of Mr. Page from his wife. "Something of an aging playboy."

"Aging and ailing," said Mrs. Woodruff. "She can look forward to a big payoff when he dies."

His envy abating somewhat, Mr. Page said, "That explains her smile."

He was wrong about that. The correct explanation of Julia's smile - and Mr. Page's too, for that matter - was that they'd just spotted the friend they'd arranged to meet here.

The Woodruffs were wrong about a good bit else, too. In the first place, Julia wasn't looking forward to Mr. Page's death. On the contrary, his dying was the thing she feared most in the world, though she worried about it less now than she had when their relationship was new. Then, his leukemia had been accelerating; now, with careful management and a change of medication, it was under control and his symptoms were mild.

But "under control" and "cured" were very different things. She imagined the disease as a lion crouching in the brush, waiting for its moment to pounce. When it did, she'd be devastated, because - and here was another subject on which the Woodruffs were way off the mark - she loved Mr. Page with a passion so profound that she could scarcely fathom it herself. Sometimes, when she looked at her husband, she felt herself growing faint, heartbeat slowing, blood pressure dropping, her soul dimming within her, and she wanted her personhood to disappear, entirely subsumed in his, so that she could become a thing he owned, like his house or furniture.

Julia knew Mr. Page loved her as much as she loved him, but his love was different from hers, as two interlocking puzzle pieces are different. She wanted to be possessed, he to possess; she wanted to be his thing, and his pleasure was to treat her like a thing. Here the Woodruffs were at least somewhere in the neighborhood of correct about the Pages: she was his fuck-toy. But that respectable if somewhat catty couple would have been surprised, and probably shocked, too, to learn what Julia's being a fuck-toy meant to the two of them, and how Mr. Page played with his toy.

At this moment Julia was kissing Mistress Ai's cheek and glancing curiously at the young woman standing beside her, whom she had never met. All of them were making a show of being more or less conventional people. If Julia absolutely had to call Mr. Page by name while in public, she would call him "Arthur" - a thing she'd never presume to do at home - and Mr. Page would refrain from referring to her as "slut" or "slag." They would not talk in public about their private games. But after they'd watched the play, Mr. Page would say to Mistress, "Why not come back to our place for coffee, Ai?" Or maybe she'd invite them to her place. And when they got there, well, something interesting would happen.

The last time they'd been out with friends, it had been with two men of Mr. Page's generation - college pals, in fact. One was a man she didn't know well named Daniel, beside whose vast wealth Mr. Page's fortune was a child's piggy bank savings. The other was a heavy, coarse investment banker named Teddy, whom she'd met all too often. They'd gone to Masa, where she'd sat silent for the whole meal, stunned by the amount of money they were spending and nervous about what would come after.

As she'd known he would, Mr. Page had invited both men home after their dinner. No sooner had he closed the front door behind them than Mr. Page had seized Julia by the throat and shoved her up against a wall of the foyer. Pushing his scowling face within an inch of hers, he snarled, "What are you? Tell us what you are!"

Wide-eyed, she whispered, "A cunt, Sir."

"Louder. My friends can't hear you."

She forced herself to say "A cunt, Sir!" in a loud, clear voice as Daniel looked on with interest and Teddy leered obscenely.

"Not just any cunt," Mr. Page said, holding her tighter and lifting so she had to stand on tiptoe.

"I'm Mr. Page's cunt," she whined in a strangled voice.

Within seconds, he'd torn her dress off. He plunged his fingers into her and, fucking her with his hand, said, "What are you good for, cunt?"

"Being fucked, Sir." It was what he always wanted her to say.

He took his fingers out of her and, whipping off his belt for a makeshift collar and leash, hauled her into the elegant living room, where he threw her down onto the oriental carpet among the Federal period antiques. They all took her there - a brutal, impersonal fuck that you'd call a gang rape if you didn't know the men were meeting Julia's needs as much as she was satisfying their appetites.

You see, just as some people are into pain, others into humiliation, and still others into excreta and other kinks, Julia was into objectification. She was never more alive and aroused than when her sexual partners treated her like an insentient thing designed only to give them physical pleasure. She needed to believe that they cared nothing at all about her, and as they exploited her passive body, she wanted no shows of affection or kindness or respect to break the illusion that she wasn't there for them as a human being entitled to be treated with human dignity.

Don't make the mistake of thinking she enjoyed this gangbang - she didn't, at least not in the ordinary sense of the word "enjoy." She was fastidious: she found both the male and the female genitalia distasteful, and she didn't like getting her hair and makeup mussed. What she did enjoy - this was the flip side of her kink - was obeying Mr. Page, and if what he demanded of her was difficult, so much the better. That Daniel was a near-stranger and Teddy repugnant made obedience that much sweeter. She was Mr. Page's thing, and when it was time for them to play, his pleasure always became her urgent need. On this night, his pleasure was to share her body with a couple of old friends - and so she needed them to fuck her.

That's what they did, Mr. Page and Daniel and the vile Teddy: they took turns fucking her mouth, pussy, and ass, sometimes all three at once, and after a half hour of this they one by one jerked off into her open mouth, and she choked down their semen. Afterwards they left her to lie on the rug, an abandoned toy, curled up and whimpering, belt still loose around her graceful neck, while they poured themselves drinks and chatted about business, politics, and sports over her naked body.

After Mr. Page had seen Daniel and Teddy out, he came to her, seized a forelock to lift her face to his, and growled, "Fucking slut."

This was her moment, the best moment, when she was a thing for him alone. Impossibly aroused, she wept, "I love you, Mr. Page."

"I know that," he snapped. He unzipped his pants and pulled himself out; then, taking his wife's head in his hands, he turned her face downwards and pushed her into his lap with greater force and ferocity than he ever allowed his friends to use with her. This was one of the games they reserved for themselves, a face-fuck so extreme they were flirting with the loss of a seven-hundred-dollar dinner despite Julia's expertise as a cocksucker, cultivated over three years. She choked and drooled and made a mess of his pants, and by the time he'd come deep inside her, it was unbearable, how her body was ablaze with desire.

He raised her face to his with two hands, kissed her, and told her he loved her. He swung her round so her head was on the carpet and her bottom in his lap, grasped her thighs, raised her pussy to his lips, and brought her to orgasm with his mouth. Deep in subspace, she rested in his arms till bedtime.

Julia was as sure of Mr. Page's love as she was of anything in the world. Mr. and Mrs. Woodruff were ill-equipped to understand such a love, which was founded, to be sure, on Mr. Page's lust for Julia's lithe, youthful body and her blond good looks, but also on some indefinable thing in her that filled him with a far greater and more savage joy, when she became his fuck-toy and complied with his demands, than he'd ever felt in the company of any other woman.

The Woodruffs would have found it even more incomprehensible that Mr. Page's respect for his wife was as great as his lust and his need to dominate her. He loved her wit and her intelligence, and he believed fiercely that there was greatness in her. She was a writer, and a dedicated one, though as yet unpublished.

When Mr. Page hurled her to the floor or bound her in some obscene posture and took his pleasure with her body or shared her with his friends as he would an after-dinner port, he had no wish to subdue or crush her. In fact, he saw her as a free spirit, considered it his mission in life to nurture that spirit of freedom in her, and believed, as she did, that their play - even sex with Teddy, which she hated - liberated her and deepened both her emotional and intellectual responses.

A city council member reputed to have mob ties drew the Woodruffs' jaundiced eyes away from the Pages just as Mistress Ai was saying, "Arthur and Julia, this is my friend Emily Burnham."

Julia sized Emily up quickly and decided she didn't like her. She was about the same height as Julia and more generously proportioned, with lively green eyes and a sunny smile. She was, indeed, altogether too pretty to suit Julia, who was more than a little vain and competitive, at least with women she judged to be like herself in age and status.

And then, Julia and Emily had very different ideas about personal presentation. Emily's hair was dyed black with a purple streak, and she was made up to be pale, with dark eyes and dark red lipstick. She had a silver ring in her right nostril and wore black pants, a black and purple top, and black boots with purple laces. Where Julia carefully cultivated a natural, untended look, Emily flaunted her artificiality.

Even worse, Mistress Ai had introduced Emily as a "friend," a word that, to Julia's way of thinking, conveyed that Emily was much more than a slave or sub to her. Mistress Ai had never, in almost three years of acquaintance, introduced Julia as a friend, but always as "Arthur's sub."

Finally, and perhaps worst of all, Emily compounded the sin of being Mistress Ai's friend by losing interest in Julia after a desultory greeting.

And so Julia's first reactions to Emily were envy, jealousy, and wounded pride. She concealed her hostility until Mr. Page and Mistress Ai were deep in conversation, then stepped closer to her and said, "I thought I'd met all Mistress Ai's slaves."

Emily was startled. She'd been lost in her own thoughts and paying little attention to Julia. You could hardly blame her for some deficiency in sociability, for her life was rather a mess at the moment, and she spent much of her free time brooding about the complexities of her situation. Little more than a week ago, she'd gone through a cataclysmic breakup with her master, and together with her friend, lover and slave Amanda, had moved in with the billionaire Daniel and his wife Karen, a grand lady with a toilet kink. Soon after that move, Emily had been approached by Frederick Sullivan, another master from her past, who swore he loved her and wanted her back. He was gorgeous, and masterful, and so sexy, but she wasn't sure she could trust him.

She'd had dinner with him a few days ago, with Karen and Daniel as chaperones, and he'd seemed genuine enough. She hadn't played with him, though: she'd believed, no doubt correctly, that she'd be unable to make a rational decision about him if she did. It was hard enough to think clearly with memories crowding in of the way he used to tie her in some painful pose, whip her for some minor infraction, but really just because he wanted to, and finally fuck her silly. Thinking about it made her wet.

Emily looked at Julia and smiled. She was quick to take a liking to people, and she saw no reason not to like Julia, who seemed brittle somehow, but very pretty and with a sweet smile. She said, "Oh, I'm not Mistress Ai's slave, just a friend. I am a slave, though - sometimes."

Some predatory instinct in Julia saw an opening in that. "Not right now?" she asked.

"I guess you could say I'm between masters," Emily replied, still smiling.

"It must be frustrating," said Julia. "Good dominants can be hard to find. A lot of would-be subs never manage to impress a dominant who's the real thing."

Emily looked at Julia warily: perhaps this girl wasn't as sweet and harmless as she'd thought. "I have one or two possibilities I'm thinking about," she said.

"Maybe a change of style would help," said Julia. "Emo seems kind of . . . I don't know, yesterday."

Emily flushed with anger and searched for something to say, but she was often maddeningly tongue-tied when she most needed a clever response. Meanwhile Julia, by way of twisting the knife, said, "I'd be glad to help you with that. I love doing makeovers."

Then the words Emily wanted popped into her head. "If I decide to go for the dumb blond look, I'll get in touch."

The lights blinked, Mistress Ai and Mr. Page turned towards them, and they had to behave.

They entered the theater together, Mr. Page and Mistress leading the way followed by a fuming Julia and a smiling Emily.

2. After the play

The play was about a woman who abandons her family to go on a cross-country trip. It was funny and sad, and it left Julia in a fragile mood. She didn't want to be an abandoned toy tonight: she wanted to go home, cuddle with Mr. Page, and talk about the play.

But Mistress Ai said, "Why don't we go to my place for refreshments and play? My slaves have been too idle: they'll be glad for something to do."

Mr. Page agreed, of course: Julia had never known him to turn down an invitation from Mistress Ai. One may well wonder what Mr. and Mrs. Woodruff would have thought of the scene that ensued within the hour, in Mistress Ai's playroom, as Julia lay at the others' feet, wrists and ankles tethered with soft ropes to rings inset in the floor. She was naked except for a harness that consisted of a leather belt and, attached to it, two straps holding in place a wand vibrator which rested lightly against her pussy, so close to her clitoris that the slightest movement would make the vibrator bump her there, and she'd scream with the sudden stimulation. Julia whined and struggled not to squirm as Mr. Page looked on with pleasure. This was his work: the vision had come to him during the taxi ride from the theater, and he had stripped and tied Julia minutes after they'd arrived.

Meanwhile, the others were discussing how they should proceed with their play. Three of Mistress's slaves, two men and a woman, squatted by a wall, looking on with interest and ready to serve if required.

"There are so many of us," said Mistress Ai, "we almost make a play party. Emily, you're our switch: what role would you like tonight?

With a tight little smile whose precise meaning was lost on everyone but an anxious and overstimulated Julia, Emily said, "If it's all right with Arthur, I think I'd like to top with Julia. We've only known each other a few hours, but I feel like we're already becoming good friends."

Julia now regretted the way she'd needled Emily. She didn't have to let this happen, of course, but it would be awkward to say no: she'd probably have to own up to her bad behavior in the theater and risk punishment. Whipping was one of her hard limits: Mr. Page would never do that. But he'd been known to confine her in a cage, restrict her diet to bread and water, or make her sleep alone. These punishments were unpleasant, and so, all in all, she thought it best (though thinking was hard with a vibrator buzzing between her legs) to put up with whatever Emily had in mind. The bitch! She must have known perfectly well that Julia wouldn't be in a position to refuse.

Emily studied Julia with amusement as Mr. Page recited her limits. When he was finished, she unsnapped her pants. Holding Julia's eye, she undressed. She liked undressing, being naked, and being looked at, and despite everything, she liked Julia, who looked magnificent spreadeagled at her feet, a slender Viking goddess trying so hard not to squirm, but unable to hold still. Oh, Emily had been there herself - she could sympathize.

As her arousal mounted, Julia was having trouble keeping Emily in focus, but she could make out a colorful rose vine, complete with thorns, that crept around from her back above her waist and up between her breasts; another climbed over her right shoulder and dangled above her right breast. She had a ring in her left nipple and one in her clitoral hood. Julia liked body modifications, but Mr. Page didn't; that's why she didn't have any of her own. She envied Emily's tattoos and piercings.

Emily said, "I'm so looking forward to getting to know you better, Julia." She stepped over her head, parted her bare labia with black-nailed fingers, and sat down, completely covering Julia's pert nose and pink mouth with her pussy and ass. She wriggled to settle herself more firmly and rested much of her weight on Julia's face.

Emily was not the first person ever to do this to Julia - it was one of Mistress Ai's favorite things. Anuses didn't bother her a lot either: she'd often rimmed Mr. Page and his friends. She didn't like the acts themselves - the slipperiness, the smell, the closeness and heat between the cheeks of an ass - but she loved Mr. Page making her do them, or having the acts forced from her when restrained, as she was now.

But this felt different. She could sense hostility radiating from Emily as she rocked heavily on her face, stimulating herself. And that wasn't all. Emily had skillfully positioned herself so that her pussy covered Julia's nose, and her anus was tight against her mouth. Julia could draw a little air as Emily moved, but not nearly enough. This was revenge sex, to be sure: she tried to turn her head, but Emily reached down to hold her in place and punished her for struggling by pulling her hair hard. Meanwhile, the vibrator was splintering the world around her, and she couldn't form a coherent thought.

Emily wasn't really feeling hostile, though: she was capable of anger, but it tended to die away quickly, like a match that flares and burns out. She was having fun. The sensations of Julia's lips on her anus and her nose pressing against her clitoris were divine: she often did this to Amanda, and neither of them ever got tired of it. Emily had sometimes bottomed with Mistress Ai just this way, and she loved it - the loss of control, the vague sense of being punished for something you couldn't remember doing . . . she was sure Julia would like it too.

Julia's heart raced and she yanked hard at her ropes, trying vainly to free herself. She tried to protest, but without enough air she could only emit feeble squeaks. Where was Mr. Page? Why was he letting this happen? She couldn't even see him. Julia was suddenly convinced that he didn't care what happened to her, or maybe he'd left the room. Why would he do that? He didn't love her or want her anymore - he was abandoning her, like the woman in the play, like her parents and everyone else in her life! Panic seized her: with a huge effort she wrenched her head around, freeing herself from Emily's suffocating crotch, and screamed "Red!"

Emily instantly felt horrible - she'd misjudged Julia again, and she'd gotten the situation all wrong. In a second she was off her and kneeling beside her, petting her cheek and saying, "I'm so sorry, Julia! I didn't mean . . ."

But Julia cried, "Where's Mr. Page?" and looked around wildly. There was Mistress Ai with her slave Shita, his blissful face in her pussy; there were the slaves Inkei and Asoko looking on, and there, on a chair by the wall, was Mr. Page, unnoticed by them all - face pale and clammy, gasping, staring at nothing, mouth open.

"Mr. Page!" Julia screamed, and everyone turned to look. "Get me loose!" she shouted. She was tied with slip knots, and Emily had her loose in seconds. Julia tore off the vibrator and scrambled to Mr. Page's side.

Mr. Page said, "It's okay. I'll be okay. It'll pass."

"No!" Julia had obsessively read a thousand web pages so she could be ready for anything that might go wrong with her dominant.

Mistress Ai joined Julia now. "It could be a heart attack," she said.

"It's probably just something I ate," Mr. Page protested.

"It is a heart attack!" Julia had memorized the symptoms, and even though she knew it could be just a bad case of heartburn, she was taking no chances. She ran for her purse, pulled out her phone, and called 911.

3. Take a lover

Mr. Page had suffered a heart attack - not a massive one, but significant, and very likely connected to his leukemia medicine, which would have to be changed. The physicians praised Julia for insisting that he go to the hospital and getting him there quickly, and Mr. Page himself admitted grudgingly that she'd done well.

During the four days Mr. Page spent in the hospital, he and Julia learned how their lives would change over the next weeks and months. His cardiologist outlined a program of gradually increasing exercise: sexual intercourse could be resumed after about four weeks if he was making good progress towards recovery.

Mr. Page's kink-friendly doctor, however, advised against resuming their kinky activities for at least two months. The kind of play they were used to was much more strenuous and risky than what the vanilla cardiologist was talking about.

Julia, who had read extensively about heart attacks, was expecting this kind of news. Four weeks without sex and another month without kink would be dreary, but she could do it. She would spend her time nursing Mr. Page and catching up on her reading and writing.

Mr. Page was concerned, though. The day he got home from the hospital, he talked to her about it over the heart-healthy lunch Suzy Lombardi the housekeeper had made for them. "Like most kinky people," he said, "you have a high sex drive. I can't ask you to live without sex and kink for two months: it wouldn't be fair. You must have a lover."

"I don't want a lover, Mr. Page. I've lived without sex before, and I can do it again." Julia smiled and added, "I can always masturbate."

"Still, I want you to do this. We have several friends who are between subs and wouldn't mind having a temporary one. Eric, Christopher, Teddy . . ."

Eric was a handsome young architect and Christopher was an NYU professor in his forties: Julia had played with both of them.

"Teddy? Really, Mr. Page!"

"Teddy's manner is a bit unpolished, but he'd be a perfectly good dominant for you."

"Please don't make me do this, Sir," Julia pleaded.

He got up from the table. "I have to rest now. I'll tell you when I've selected a lover for you."

Julia sat alone at the table and stewed. When she played with Mr. Page and his friends, they were all Mr. Page, and it was that much better, but she didn't like having sex without her dominant present. When he'd made her do it, she'd felt bad afterwards.

She was trying to think up arguments to make to Mr. Page when she got a text message from Mistress Ai: "May I visit?"

"Yes, please," she replied. If she had to take a lover, Mistress Ai would do better than either Eric or Christopher, though she was hardly likely to agree to it.

Mistress lived in the Village, not far away from Gramercy Park; it was just a half hour before Julia ran to open the door to her and was surprised to find Emily with her.

Julia knew better than to blame Emily for Mr. Page's heart attack, but she associated her with the scary events of that evening - and their quarrel was still unresolved. Julia suppressed a prick of anger, welcomed them as warmly as she could manage, and took them to the kitchen, where she busied herself making tea while Mistress Ai questioned her about Mr. Page's condition.

"He's recovering well, Mistress," said Julia, "but he's got this idea that I have to have a lover. He doesn't think I can go a couple of months without kink."

"I'm sure you can, Julia, but Arthur has a point. Just because your partner is temporarily disabled doesn't mean you have to live like a nun."

"I'm not going to turn into a nun, but it doesn't feel right to have sex when Mr. Page isn't with me - and I don't want any of his friends. In fact, I can't think of a single man I want. I just want to take care of him."

Mistress Ai looked thoughtful. "Perhaps," she said, "it's time for me to have my visit with him."

Julia tiptoed upstairs to see if Mr. Page was awake. He was, and she sent Mistress Ai up to him while she and Emily sipped their tea in the kitchen.

Emily said, "I'm sorry for the other night - for what I said and did. And I'm really, really sorry about Arthur. I hope he's going to be all right."

Julia was a little mollified, but she had a lot on her mind and felt burdened by the necessity of conversing with this woman she cared nothing about. She said, "Thanks. I think he'll be fine. He just needs time to recover." She sipped her tea.

Emily put up with the silence as long as she could; at last, desperate to find some common ground, she said, "I know it's hard, being without your dominant."

"I have a dominant," said Julia shortly.

Emily had said the wrong thing. She tried again. "I should have said without play. I mean, it's hard for me."

"Well, it's not for me," Julia snapped.

Emily gave it up. She concentrated on her teacup and waited for Mistress Ai to return so they could go.

But when Mistress Ai finally reappeared, she said, "Emily, Arthur would like a word with you. Could you come with me?"

Puzzled, Emily glanced at Julia, who was staring stonily into space. She got up and followed Mistress Ai out of the room and up the stairs to the library, where Mr. Page was sitting in a large leather chair with a book in his lap.

He looked up as they entered, but it was Mistress Ai who spoke. "Arthur is concerned about Julia. He doesn't want her confined here at home with him during his convalescence; he wants someone to make sure she gets the kind of activity she needs. As you saw, Emily resists the idea. She finds the prospect of being taken over by another man, even temporarily, repugnant. I suggested a woman instead, and in particular you."

"Me?" Emily laughed. "Sure, but there are just two problems. One, I'm not a dominant. Two, Julia hates me."

Mistress Ai said, "I know you prefer the role of slave to that of mistress, and I'm sure you'll find the right master soon. But you also know how to function as a dominant: you've done a marvelous job with Mouche" (calling Amanda by her scene name).

Emily said, "Amanda is the world's most submissive person. Obedience is like breathing to her. It's no trick at all to be her mistress."

"It's never easy to manage another person," Mistress Ai replied, "no matter how submissive she is. You may prefer submission, but you have a talent for dominance as well."

"As for her not liking you," said Mr. Page, "that will make the experience of obeying you better for her. It's an aspect of her kink: submission is more pleasurable for her when it's difficult. And I promise she will obey you if I tell her to."

"Okay," said Emily. "Now tell me why I should do this. Maybe it's selfish to ask, but what's in it for me?"

"You have a lot of time on your hands," said Mistress Ai. "Daniel has lined up a job for you, but that won't begin till next month. Meanwhile, you're spending too much time stewing about whether to get back together with Frederick. In the end, your decision will come easier if you've kept busy and haven't obsessed about it. Doing this will help."

"I'm not asking you to devote all your time to Julia," said Mr. Page. "Just take her overnight once a week for maybe three or four weeks. Arrange some activities for her. You won't find it difficult to persuade Daniel and Karen to help out. Use her body yourself: whether she likes you or not, she'll serve you well, and she'll get more out of it than you expect."

"And who knows?" said Mistress Ai. "You may end up liking each other."

"Not likely," said Emily. Julia was vain, shallow, and irascible. Emily didn't want to have sex with her, and she didn't look forward to spending hours in her company. Still, she liked projects and challenges. She said, "But I'll try it once, if she agrees. If it works out, then we can do it again."

"She'll agree," said Mr. Page. "Would you send her up to me on your way out, Ai?"

A few minutes later, Julia was saying, "I don't like her, Mr. Page, and I don't think she likes me. And I don't want to leave you, Sir."

"I can't make you do this," said Mr. Page, "but I do think it would be good for you. And you're not leaving me. You're spending one night away from home. If it's unbearable, you don't have to do it again. We'll make being lent to Emily Burnham a hard limit. But I don't think you're going to find it unbearable."

Julia wasn't so sure, but it was just one night, and she did want to obey Mr. Page, so she said, "Okay, Sir. I'll try it once."

"On Saturday at three o'clock in the afternoon. You'll spend the night and return to me in the morning."

To fill the days until Saturday, Julia supervised Mr. Page's medications, negotiated dietary changes with Suzy, and had a treadmill installed in the library. Mr. Page grumbled about his bossy sub and the invasion of his space, but he took his meds and used the treadmill a little more each day. Julia was pleased that he was approaching the work of rehabilitation with seriousness and discipline.

In her free time, Julia worked on her fiction. In college, she'd become fascinated with the life of New York's homeless people and had written several stories set among them. Since then, she'd read everything she could find about the homeless, and she'd stopped to talk to them on the street when they'd asked her for money. She'd visited homeless shelters and had even visited one of their makeshift camps in a vacant lot - her revulsion at the conditions there had been far greater than her fear of the people, for whom she had not only compassion, but also respect. She called them the Abandoned People, because . . . well, that's what they were.

She had found that the homeless had stories, like everyone else. They worked, they loved, they tried to raise kids and the kids grew up; and their stories were all the more compelling because they lived on the edge - invisible to the respectable people of the city.

Julia had written a dozen stories set in the city's camps and shelters but had never attempted to publish any of them. Mr. Page pleaded with her to let him help her - he had contacts everywhere - but she wouldn't hear of it. She told him she'd publish in her own good time, but the truth was that she was sure her stories would be as unwelcome in the genteel New York publishing world as the characters who populated them would be in an upper East Side drawing room.

She spent the week working on her latest, a story about a ten-year-old girl and her mother, both homeless, who get separated. The girl must survive a number of dangers to find her way back to her mother. Mr. Page loved it, but she worried that he wasn't the most impartial of readers.

By the time Julia had to leave on Saturday afternoon, she had a complete draft, but it needed a good bit of revision. She copied it to her phone, where she could make notes when she had a free moment, and packed a printout in her overnight bag along with her toiletries and a change of clothing. She took a taxi to 740 Park Avenue and at three o'clock precisely, rang the bell of an apartment on an upper floor.

4. Playing for stakes

Julia got home again at around eleven on Sunday morning. She found Mr. Page in the library.

"So you survived," he said.

"Yes, Sir - I suppose."

"It wasn't easy?"

"She really doesn't like me, Sir."

"And you don't like her much."

"I guess not, Sir."

"Sit and tell me everything," he said, pointing to a spot on the floor in front of him.

Julia sat cross legged on the carpet and began. "Okay, Sir. I've never been inside that building before. Their place really blew me away: I never imagined there were apartments that size in the city."

"Back up," he said. "Start with knocking on the door. Tell it like a story."

"All right, Sir. I was on time, the way you've taught me to be. I wasn't surprised that the woman who opened the door was naked, but I'd never seen anybody quite like her before. She was maybe a few years older than me, ghostly pale and starved-looking, with large brown eyes and black hair. The nipples of her tiny breasts were pierced with little barbells, she had a tattoo of a fly above her left breast, and on her right side a large one of a sad girl holding a bleeding heart."

"That was Mouche," said Mr. Page. "I've seen her."

"Emily calls her Amanda, though hardly anyone else does," said Julia. "She opened the door and stared at me for a few seconds with solemn curiosity. Then she said, 'Do you like piss?'

"Nobody had ever asked me a question like that before, so I had to stop and think. I don't mind piss, as long as it's where it belongs and the toilet flushes properly, but I was pretty sure that wasn't what Amanda was talking about, so I said, 'Not a bit.'

"That must have been the right answer, because she smiled and said, 'Come in.'

"She led me into a living room that reminded me of rooms I'd seen in English palaces. Emily, dressed in tight black yoga pants and a black tee, was sitting on a sofa with a large woman in a colorful tent of a dress - she had to be Karen. They both got up as Amanda led me to them.

"Emily smiled at me and said, 'Hello, Julia.'

"'Hi,' I said, feeling kind of awkward and scared.

"Karen said, 'So this is Julia, Arthur's fuck-toy. She's beautiful. Such a slender, lovely figure! Such a flawless face! How I long to get a close look at her naked body! You are going to share her, aren't you, dear?'

"'Arthur asked me to share her,' said Emily, 'and I suppose I will, but I think I may keep her to myself for a while first.'

"'That's too cruel of you, Famula, and selfish, to deny me the enjoyment of a treasure like this.' Famula is Emily's scene name, Sir. Karen always calls her that.

"Emily gave her a wounded look and said, 'Selfish, Karen! That stings. I'll tell you what: you can play me for her.'

"Karen smiled. 'Blackjack, dear?'

"'I deal,' said Emily. 'Usual rules.'

"Karen said, 'Mouche, dear, run and get the card table and a fresh deck.'

"Amanda ran from the room, and while she was gone Karen asked about my limits.

"Emily said, 'No toilet kinks - sorry, Karen. No whipping. Otherwise it's all stuff none of us here do.'

"'Daniel fucked her a couple of weeks ago,' said Karen. 'He's still raving about her, and I can see why. Her mouth is so pretty, I almost wish I had a cock so she could suck it.'

"Do you remember how red I used to get when you talked about me that way, Sir? Like I was a picture or a statue that couldn't hear you talking about me?"

"I remember. You used to get very embarrassed and very turned on."

"I still get turned on, Sir, but maybe not quite as embarrassed. I could tell they were already playing.

"Before long, Amanda returned lugging a folding card table and holding an unwrapped deck of cards between her teeth. She set the table up in the middle of the room, pulled two ornate side chairs up to it, unwrapped the cards, separated out the jokers, and set the deck face down on the table. Emily and Karen sat in the chairs.

"Emily pointed to a spot about three feet from the table and said, 'Stand there, Julia.' I stood where she'd pointed. I was getting shivery with anticipation. Emily dealt two cards to Karen face up and two to herself, one up and one down. Karen's cards were a ten and a three; Emily's up card was a nine.

"'Hit,' said Karen, and Emily dealt her a six.

"'Ah!' said Karen.

"Emily turned her card; it was another nine.

"'Stand,' said Emily. 'You win.'

"'Right boot,' said Karen.

"Emily said, 'Take off your right boot, Julia.'

"I took off my right boot. While I was doing that, I counted my articles of clothing: black pants and a pink top, two socks, two boots, bra, panties. Eight pieces if they weren't counting jewelry.

"Emily won the next hand with twenty to Karen's eighteen. 'Put your boot back on, Julia,' she said.

"I was starting to think the game might go on for a long time.

"On the next hand, Emily dealt Karen an ace and a ten.

"'Blackjack!' Karen exclaimed. 'Both boots.' She watched as I took off my boots. She was just about licking her lips."

"I don't think I've ever met anyone as sexually omnivorous as Karen," said Mr. Page. "And her kinks are notorious."

"Yes, Sir. I know. So Emily dealt Karen a king and a four. 'Hit,' said Karen, and Emily dealt her a six. Karen said, 'Stand.'

"Emily's cards were an eight and a seven. She drew a four and said, 'Stand.'

"'Left sock,' said Karen. I lifted my foot and took it off.

"Emily got blackjack on the next turn. 'Sock back on,' she said.

"Now the rules were coming into focus. If Karen got blackjack or Emily busted, Karen could make me take off two pieces of clothing, but if Emily got blackjack or Karen busted, Emily could only make me put one back on."

Mr. Page said, "A Vegas game is rigged in the dealer's favor. It sounds like this one was rigged the other way."

"It's a good thing too, Sir," said Julia. "If it hadn't been, we might have been playing all afternoon, but as it happened it only took me about a half hour to get naked."

"It's an ingenious game," he said.

"Amanda told me later that they perfected it over the weeks after Emily and Amanda moved in. Amanda hates wearing clothes: she likes to be available for sex at a moment's notice, and she spends a lot of time masturbating without caring who's around. In fact, the whole time we were playing she was sitting on the floor, back against a chair, watching us and fingering her pussy. But they sometimes make her put on clothing - underwear and everything - and then play Blackjack and slowly strip her."

"Sounds like fun."

"It was fun, Sir. As each bit of me was revealed, Karen would comment. 'What a lovely little nipple!' she'd say, or 'The curve of her belly is so tasty!' After something more than a half hour of play, I was wearing nothing but a sock on my right foot when Emily busted and said 'Damn!' Karen shouted, 'I win! Take off that sock, Julia!'

"I took off my sock and wondered what would come next now that the game was done.

"But the game wasn't done. Emily handed the deck to Karen, who dealt out another hand. Karen won this, turned to stare at me, and said, sort of meditatively, 'Now what shall I do with her?'

"I was nervous but tried not to fidget.

"'I know!' Karen exclaimed. 'Mouche, come here!'

"Amanda scrambled to her feet and stood on the other side of the table from me.

"'You've been playing with yourself, haven't you, girl?' Karen demanded.

"'Yes, Mistress,' said Amanda sheepishly.

"'Put the fingers you were masturbating with in Julia's mouth. Let her taste you,' said Karen.

"'Yes, Mistress,' said Amanda, and rounded the table to stand in front of me. She gazed into my eyes - I don't know when I've seen such a soulful look. She whispered, 'I like your lip gloss,' and raised her hand to touch my lips with one slender finger. I could smell pussy on her hand."

"How did that make you feel?"

"A little queasy, Sir, but I parted my lips, and Amanda slid that finger in, then another, and two more - all the fingers she'd been masturbating with. I closed my eyes and sucked her fingers, trying to imagine that you were there. In a way you were, Sir, since you had delegated your power to Emily. The humiliation was delicious; my arousal had been building during the slow strip, and now it went up another notch.

"They let me suck Amanda's fingers for a couple of minutes. Then Karen said, 'Lovely,' and Amanda took her fingers out of my mouth.

"Karen turned back to Emily and dealt another hand of Blackjack. Emily won this one and said, 'Give Julia a kiss, Amanda. A nice long one - I'll tell you when to stop - and be sure to use your tongue.'

"Amanda's a good three inches shorter than me: her eyes danced as she stepped closer, looked into my eyes, and touched my cheek with the fingers she'd just had in her mouth. 'You're really pretty,' she whispered, stood on tiptoe, put her hands on my shoulders, and kissed me.

"I thought Amanda was pretty, too - beautiful, in fact, in an uncanny, melancholy way - but her intensity was unnerving, and I also knew that she was the one who serviced Karen's toilet kink. I wanted to pull away but didn't dare - I told myself I could wash thoroughly later. So I just stood there while her soft tongue probed between my lips.

"Even though I was feeling queasy, I couldn't help responding to the sweet, insistent kiss of this otherworldly creature. I opened my lips to let her in, and at that moment, when I surrendered to the situation and to her, my toes curled, my body sang, and my senses came alive: I became aware of Amanda's little nipples brushing the skin of my breasts, the faint odor of some perfume mingled with soap and mouthwash, the sound of her breathing. My arousal was like sunlight, warming me all over."

"Are you getting turned on, telling this now?" asked Mr. Page.

"Yes, Mr. Page."

"Take your clothes off and touch yourself as you tell your story."

"You shouldn't get too excited, Sir . . ."

He gestured at a pill bottle on the table by his chair. "I have my nitroglycerin here. Now do as I say."

Julia stood and stripped; then she sat down again, put a hand between her legs, and touched herself delicately as she continued.

"Emily stopped Amanda kissing me then, Sir. She said, 'Very good, Amanda, - you can sit down now.'

"They went on with their game. Karen dealt Emily two eights. Emily said 'Hit,' and Karen dealt her a ten.

"'Shit,' said Emily.

"'Something for me, then,' said Karen, and turned to study me. I blinked nervously and wished I were still kissing Amanda. Finally Karen got up and pulled her dress over her head. She had no underwear on underneath."

"She considers underwear unhealthy," said Mr. Page. "She's always giving loud lectures on the subject in restaurants and galleries."

"So suddenly she was naked," Julia said. "She was substantial, not quite fat, and, for a woman of nearly seventy, gave an impression of health and vitality.

"She sat down heavily and took one of her breasts in her hand: it was large and pale, with a vast areola. She said, 'Come and suck my tit, Julia.'

"You've never had me play with a woman that age or size, Sir, so I was kind of scared. I stepped to the side of Karen's chair, bent over, and put my mouth over Karen's big nipple. I gave it a little suck.

"Karen scolded me: 'Not like that, girl.' She took me by the waist, swung me around so I was between her legs, and crushed me to her so my mouth was smashed against her nipple and my breasts pressed into her swelling stomach.

"She's a good dominant, Sir. Not as commanding as you are, but good. I liked the way she handled me and made me do this. I sucked and nibbled her, and soon she was emitting strangled moans of pleasure and squirming in her chair.

"After a couple of minutes, Karen gasped, 'Other tit,' but Emily said, 'No, no, Karen. Other breast is another thing.'

"Karen glared at her and let go of me. I stood up and waited. The rule for this stage of the game seemed to be that the winner of a hand could make me do something, but she had to win with Blackjack or a bust to get me to do something for her.

"Emily won the next hand and said, 'Do for Amanda what you just did for Karen.'

"Amanda had retreated to her post by the chair. I went to her, kissed her mouth, and bent lower to suck one of her pierced nipples. This was lovely: her nipple was hard almost instantly, and as I worked I could see her fingering her pussy and sense her breath coming harder. But when I thought she must be about to come, Emily said, 'That's enough, Julia,' and I had to stop. Amanda whimpered, and I sat back on my heels.

"I was really turned on now, Sir. I just stared at Amanda and paid no attention to Karen, who was dealing the next hand. But I didn't dare to touch her without being told.

"Karen exclaimed, 'Blackjack!' and soon I found myself sucking her other big nipple. She was breathing hard, her breast rising and falling as I sucked. She must have been really aroused. I know I was.

"Karen won the next hand and said, 'Turn your back to us, bend over, and hold your ankles, Julia.'

"I did as I'd been told.

"'Spread your legs, dear,' said Karen.

"I did that, displaying my pussy and ass to them. I could feel their stares even though I couldn't see them.

"'Lovely,' said Karen, and Emily said, 'Uh uh, no touching.'

"'You're cruel, Famula,' said Karen. 'Mouche, come lick Julia's ass.'

"'That's another thing,' said Emily. 'Stop trying to get away with stuff.'

"'I only had Julia bend over to get her ready for this,' Karen protested. 'Come here, Mouche.'

"Emily snorted in disgusted resignation and Amanda made a strange sound like a cat's meow. Soon I saw Amanda's feet between my legs, then her knees as she knelt. I felt Amanda's soft hands on my ass, and soon afterwards the heavenly touch of her wet tongue, stimulating my sensitive nerve endings. I sighed with the pleasure of it, and Amanda responded by closing her lips over my anus and giving me a wet kiss. She made love to my bottom with her lips and tongue, meanwhile stimulating my clitoris with light touches (I suppose this was another thing strictly speaking, but they didn't stop her).

"I went from whining to hyperventilating, and I was sure I was about to come when Karen said, 'That's enough, dear,' and Amanda stood up, gave my bottom a caress, and retreated to her place.

"'You can stand, Julia,' said Emily, and I stood and turned around. I was distracted for a moment by Amanda rubbing her pussy with one hand and licking the fingers of the other, and I almost missed it when Karen dealt Emily a ten and a king, and herself a two face up.

"'Hit me,' said Emily.

"Karen said, 'But Famula - '

"'Hit me, Karen,' said Emily very firmly.

"Slowly, Karen slid a card over the table and turned it face up: it was a five.

"Karen took several deep breaths, her great breasts rising and falling. 'You're a wicked girl,' she said, 'but a good friend to this old lady. Are you sure she can't . . .'

"'She can't, Karen.'

"'Oh well,' she said, turned to me, and said, 'Come here, girl.'

"You know what she was going to make me do, don't you, Sir?"

"Mm Hm," said Mr. Page. "Lie down and show me your pussy while you talk."

Julia lay down, spread her legs, and stroked herself as she continued her story. "Karen was still naked, Sir. My heart was pounding, and my skin was prickling all over. She seemed so big - such vast expanses of white flesh, such massive breasts. Her legs were still closed, wide thighs concealing her sex.

"'Kneel,' she said, and I knelt: all my limbs were trembling with arousal and fear, and my stomach was churning. Karen slid forward on her chair and opened her legs wide, and her pussy fell open. I had to stare, it was so awe-inspiring: it was gray-haired with outer labia pale and big: the pink parts were already engorged and shiny with damp. Karen spread herself with her fingers, and her cavernous vagina gaped wetly.

"'Eat my cunt, dear,' she said.

"Mistress Ai is the only woman you've ever made me go down on, Sir. I thought with yearning of her tidy pussy and its lovely bush of soft black hair. Oh, what I wouldn't have given to be staring at that now instead of this monster! I shuffled forward on my knees, as close as I could come, sat back on my heels, and leaned forward.

"Up close, Karen's pussy seemed so enormous! It was irresistible . . . what was the name of that great whirlpool, Mr. Page?"

"Charybdis."

"Yes! A Charybdis of cunt, Sir, and I was sure it would suck me down, and I'd be lost forever."

"The metaphor is a bit over the top, Julia."

"Have you ever gone down on her, Sir?"

Mr. Page gave her an annoyed look. "No, Julia - but I have seen young women do it. And - okay, you have a point. It looks like a perilous thing."

"Thank you, Sir. I touched my lips to Karen's wide slit, just over the urethra, and breathed through my nose."

Julia rubbed herself harder as she described going down on Karen. Mr. Page kept his eyes on her pussy; his own hands rested on his thighs, but he didn't touch himself.

"Karen was wet and slick, and her smell and taste were strong. I ran my tongue lightly up and down the flat of her swollen pink folds. I sucked them and licked from her hollow vagina downwards as far as I dared - then up again till I was near Karen's big clitoris, which I circled with my tongue, pleasuring it indirectly.

"Karen rested a jeweled hand on the back of my head and pulled me into her. 'Such a dear, dear, girl,' she sighed, and twisted one of her nipples as I wrapped my arms around her fleshy thighs.

"In the corner of my vision, I could see Amanda crawl to Emily, peel down her yoga pants, and start to do for her what I was doing for Karen. I felt a stab of envy - why did Amanda deserve the younger, prettier pussy? But then it seemed to me that Karen's was the greater one, being more ancient and riper in experience, a canyon worn wide and deep by a lifetime of kink. It was a gross, awful thing, but so hot!"

"You're very poetic today, Julia!" said Mr. Page.

"Probably because I'm masturbating, Sir. I was overcome by a surge of passion. I gave myself over to Karen's pussy and immersed my face in it - chin, lips, and nose. I licked from the bottom, where her wetness was pooled up, to the top, where I closed my lips over her big clitoris and stimulated it with my tongue - varying jabs, swirls, and soft licks.

"'Oh, my dear!' Karen cried, pulled me fiercely to her, and humped my mouth as best she could, being so bulky and seated so firmly.

"'Mmmm,' I moaned and massaged Karen's thighs as I sucked - and suddenly Karen cried out and her body spasmed. Oh! Sir! May I come?"

5. A quiet evening

"You can have your orgasm when you've finished the story," said Mr. Page. "So she came?"

"She did, Sir," said Julia, panting a little though her fingers were moving slower over her pussy, "and just then a male voice shouted, 'All right!'

"I looked around to see Daniel grinning and clapping his hands.

"'Beautiful orgasm,' he said as I retreated from the table and knelt on the floor nearby, 'but don't I get to play with Arthur's fuck-toy?'

"'You could have,' said Emily, a little breathless since Amanda was still hard at work between her legs, 'but you got here too late for Blackjack. Maybe we'll give you a turn later.'

"'Damn,' said Daniel with mock exasperation. We all watched till Amanda had given Emily an orgasm.

"Daniel questioned me about your condition, Sir, while their cook, a woman named Mae, took drink orders from everyone except Amanda - I think maybe she doesn't drink."

"Like Dracula," said Mr. Page, smiling, "she doesn't drink . . . wine."

Julia's fingers rested lightly on her pussy. Her body was calmer now. "After such a strenuous afternoon, I was grateful for a glass of wine, though I would much rather have had an orgasm. Amanda seemed to feel the same way, because she sat on the floor near me, stared at me fixedly, and resumed her masturbation. I shifted about uncomfortably under her gaze until, after a short time, she came with soft squeaks which no one but me seemed to notice - but to me, each one was like a finger flicking my clitoris.

"I wish I could be as unselfconscious as Amanda, Sir. I guess no one would have minded if I'd masturbated, but I couldn't bring myself to do it with all those people around. Meanwhile, Amanda sucked her fingers and went back to staring at me.

"Mae announced that dinner was ready, and I followed the others to a grand dining room, still naked because no one had told me I could dress. A long table was set with three places at one end. Puzzled, I looked around, and my heart sank when I spotted two newspapers spread out side by side along a wall with a dog bowl on each one - one silver with 'Mouche' engraved on the side, and the other red plastic.

"Emily came up beside me and said, 'It's a rule of the house. Don't use your hands. If you do, I'll tie them behind you.' She lowered her voice to a whisper. 'If you want to make Karen and Daniel happy, make loud chomping and slurping noises while you eat and hold your ass up high so they can see your pussy and anus. If you want to make them even happier, give me permission to let them touch you.'

"Would you have let them touch me, Sir, if you'd been there?"

"Yes," breathed Mr. Page. "I would have encouraged them to touch you while you ate."

"I thought so, Sir. I could still smell Karen's pussy on my lips, and the memory of the fatty taste of Daniel's semen, the night you let him fuck me, was still fresh in my memory: so I thought, what difference did it make? 'I guess it's all right,' I said, and I felt a twinge down below, anticipating the humiliation.

"Amanda took my hand and led me to the bowls. 'We don't have to wait for the others,' she whispered, got down on her elbows and knees, sank her face into her bowl, and ate noisily.

"I got down beside her in the same pose. The food in the bowl was some kind of hash - it looked as much like pet food as it did people food. I picked out a few bits with my teeth and lips, trying not to make a mess of my face, and found that it was actually quite good. Of course, Karen and Daniel would have only the best.

"Meanwhile, Mae was coming and going with wine and the various courses for Daniel, Karen, and Emily, who were chatting over their meal.

"'It's such a pleasure to have Julia with us,' Karen announced in her big voice. 'I thought Daniel was exaggerating when he called her cunt a wonder, but he wasn't, even a little. Look at it! So smooth and symmetrical, and the same pale pink as her lips. How did it feel to fuck it, Daniel?'

"'Well, I had to wear a condom, of course,' he said, 'but it was snug - not one of your fucked-half-to-death cunts. But her mouth was even better - didn't have to wear a condom for the blowjob, either. I'll never forget the sight of those beautiful lips wrapped around my cock.'

"'Yes,' said Karen. 'She's a first-rate cunt-licker. too - so talented with her mouth. I understand she plays with Ai regularly - she's an excellent teacher. Have you tried her, Famula?'

"'Not really,' Emily replied. 'Just a few seconds the night we met.'

"'Well,' Karen said, 'you should have plenty of opportunities while dear Arthur is recovering. I have a toy here - do you mind if I just . . .'

"'Go right ahead,' said Emily."

Julia slid a finger of one hand into her pussy and rubbed her clitoris with the other. "I was getting really hot, listening to them talk about me that way, but I was worried about the toy. A few seconds later I felt something cool and slick pressing against my ass, then into it. After a moment of resistance it popped in. It was a bead, nicely lubricated. Then another bigger one, then another and another and another, till I felt stretched and full. I love anal beads, as you know, Sir, when you push them into me and pull them out."

"Mmmm," said Mr. Page, who had leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

"But then my ass started to vibrate, and I realized that these weren't just anal beads, but little vibrators. Suddenly it was hard to eat, the stimulation was so great; I had been in a state of arousal almost since I'd gotten there, and I'd had no relief at all.

"'Oh, God!' I moaned, wondering if I dared to touch myself.

"Karen's stout legs appeared by my head. 'Are you all right, dear?'

"I said, 'Yes, Mistress, but . . .'

"'Eat your dinner, then,' said Karen, and shoved my face down into my bowl. I felt like crying, the humiliation was so great; but I got hold of myself and went on picking at my dinner with teeth and lips, though my face was surely a mess. There was no need to hurry: Amanda was now sitting up, apparently finished, but the others were just starting with the main course.

"Between the difficulty of eating from a dog bowl and the beads vibrating inside me, I only managed a few more bites before everyone else was done with dinner. Mae took my bowl away, and Karen came over, turned off the beads, and slowly pulled them out of me - I was so aroused that the stimulation of my anus expelling each one came close to making me come.

"Karen handed the beads to Amanda and said, 'Mouche, dear, take these to the bathroom and clean them off. I'll join you there in a minute.' Amanda took the beads and scampered away with a sunny smile on her face, and Karen swept off towards the kitchen.

"Daniel cleared his throat, said, 'I've got some calls to make,' and left, leaving Emily and me alone.

"I said, 'May I dress?'

"'No,' she said. 'You can masturbate if you want.'

"I said, 'Does watching get you off?'

"'I don't particularly want to watch you masturbate,' said Emily. 'I just thought maybe you could use some relief.'

"'I'm okay,' I said, though I wasn't really. If I'd been by myself or with you, Sir, I would have had my fingers in my pussy in a second, but I didn't want to seem weak in front of her."

"You weren't treating her like your dominant," said Mr. Page.

Julia's hand had stopped moving: her fingers covered her. "I know, Sir, but she was so cold, like she didn't want me there at all."

"Still, she was your dominant, and you shouldn't have hidden your need from her."

"I'll remember that, Sir."

"Move your hand so I can see your pussy, and go on with your story."

"Yes, Sir. We sat there for a few minutes not saying anything. Her coldness made me uncomfortable. The more I thought about her behavior that afternoon, the more annoyed I got about the way she'd been avoiding me. Finally I said, 'Why did you give me to Karen this afternoon?'

"'What do you mean?'

"'You deliberately busted so it would be Karen that played with me, not you.'

"Emily sighed. 'Things didn't go all that well last time I tried to top with you.'

"'They went well enough for you.'

"This made her mad. 'Do you think I liked making you safeword? I felt horrible about it - and I felt even worse when I realized Arthur was having a heart attack the whole time.'

"I said, 'You sound like you were the one suffering, like it was all about your feelings. It was me getting suffocated, and my husband having the heart attack. And now somehow that makes me too disgusting to touch?'

"She stood up abruptly and said, 'I told Arthur I'd make sure you got sex, and I've done that. Frankly, I don't know why he cares. If you belonged to me, I'd take you to Fulton and sell you for a fish.' She jumped up and stomped out of the room before I could think of anything to say."

"You didn't handle that well," said Mr. Page.

"I don't think so either, Sir, but I don't know what I should have done."

"You treated her like a rival cheerleader in one of those high school romances you used to write. But she was standing in for me. What have you said to me when I've just given you away without fucking you myself?"

"I've told you I don't like it, Sir."

"You've told me politely. If you spoke to me the way you did to her, you'd spend the night in a cage."

"Yes, Sir."

"Now go on with the story."

"Okay, Sir. I was still just kneeling there where the dog bowls had been, feeling kind of stunned, when Karen came back with Amanda following her, looking like she was lost in subspace. Karen said, 'Famula has a headache, poor dear. She's going to keep to her room tonight; the rest of us will watch a movie.'

"I'd made Emily so mad she didn't want to be in the same room with me. Well, I could live with that: I didn't want to be with her either. Karen led me to a media room where there were several sofas facing an immense screen. Daniel was already seated on one of them, holding a remote.

"'Sit with me, dear,' said Karen, positioning herself right in the middle of a sofa so I'd have to sit close to her. I sat, and Amanda sat on the floor against a wall with her feet pulled in close and her knees high.

"The movie was Moonrise Kingdom, which you know, Sir, came out on DVD last month. I liked it, though I was distracted by the way Karen kept playing with my pussy. She'd massage me till I squirmed and breathed hard, then back off - over and over, teasing me. Now and then I glanced at Amanda, who didn't pay much attention to the movie except when Kara Hayward or Frances McDormand was on the screen. Otherwise, she spent the whole time staring at Karen and me. A couple of times I saw her wet a finger, slide it into her ass, and then suck it. It was kind of disturbing."

"Mouche is a coprophage, Julia."

"I know, but I didn't want to have to see and think about that. I mean, I'd kissed her. If Daniel or Karen knew what she was doing, they didn't mind. When the movie was over, Daniel said, 'Clever fellow, this Wes Anderson. We'll hear more of him.'

"Amanda slept in what Karen and Daniel called the slave quarters - a tiny room with an adjoining bathroom but no furniture at all. I was also assigned to that room. They regarded Emily as Amanda's dominant, not a submissive, so she had her own bedroom. The rule was that Amanda had to start out the night in the slave quarters, but if they found her in Emily's bed in the morning, they didn't raise a fuss.

"The floor of the slave quarters was carpeted with some soft material and a thick pad underneath, so the whole floor was like a futon. Clean bedding was piled neatly in a corner. Amanda took two sheets, a blanket, and a pillow from the pile and made herself a bed against a wall. She visited the bathroom while I arranged my own bed against the opposite wall.

"Amanda crawled under her blanket, and I went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. When I returned, she was facing the wall. I turned off the light, whispered 'Good night, Amanda,' and crawled into my own bed."

Julia's hand moved over her pussy as she continued. "In the middle of the night, I was awakened, gradually, by cool air on my skin. I became aware of soft hands parting my thighs and something wet gently probing into me. I looked: it was Amanda with her mouth in my pussy, gazing solemnly up into my face.

"You've often awakened me by going down on me, Sir, and it's amazing what you do to me: it's like being thrown off a high cliff, and when I hit bottom, that's this immense orgasm. Well, this was way different. Amanda's tongue was as light as a feather, barely stimulating me at all at first, and just exploring my pussy, along my labia, around my clitoris but not touching it, teasing around my opening, sometimes tickling my anus. As she went on she probed harder and came closer to my clitoris but still didn't touch it, till I was writhing and trying to push against her mouth. And it was only when I said, 'Oh, please, baby!' that she finally sucked and tongued my clitoris hard, and I came - a long, soft, warm orgasm.

"I sat up and looked at her. Oh, Mr. Page, she was so beautiful. Her eyes were hollow and haunted, her mouth pursed and wet, her nipples pointed. Don't you agree she's beautiful?"

Julia's still hand covered her pussy as she gazed up at her dominant, anxious for confirmation.

"Yes, Julia," he said. "She's very beautiful."

"I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to thank her for her kindness . . . I wanted to go down on her and give her an orgasm too, to repay her for mine. But the image came into my head of her putting her finger in her ass and sucking it, and that made me think of what she must have done with Karen in the bathroom. And I just couldn't. I couldn't reach out to her. I couldn't touch her.

"And then Emily's voice came from the little hallway that led past the bathroom out of the slave quarters: 'Come, Amanda,' she said, and her sharp tone made us both jump. Amanda scrambled to her feet and ran to hug her, but I just sat there feeling ashamed. I was sure she'd seen everything. She gave me a disgusted look, took Amanda by the hand, and led her out of the room. I went to the bathroom and scrubbed my pussy with a washcloth; then I wrapped myself in my blanket and lay down, but I had a hard time getting back to sleep.

"In the morning, Amanda was just as sweet to me as she'd been the day before, but Emily was really frosty. I'm sure she likes me even less than she did before last night. She grabbed a bagel and left us, and Amanda and I talked for a while till I decided it was time to come home."

"But you obeyed Emily - that's the important thing."

"Yes, Sir."

"And You will continue to obey."

"So you're sending me back, Sir?"

"If you'll go."

"Do you want me to, Sir?"

"I do."

Julia didn't want to see Emily again, but even though the night had been difficult, it hadn't been unbearable. Further, she liked Amanda and felt she owed her something. She wanted another chance with her.

"Okay, Sir, I'll go if Emily will have me."

"Good," he said. "You can have your orgasm now."

At almost the same moment, Emily and Amanda were relaxing together in a huge bathtub, Emily's arm around her slave's narrow shoulders.

"I don't know, Emily," said Amanda. "I just like her. She's pretty, don't you think?"

Emily should have known better than to start this discussion. She might figure out eventually why Amanda had taken a liking to Julia, but she'd never get there by asking, because Amanda wasn't analytical about her likes and dislikes. Perhaps a person had struck her as kind, or she'd detected in them a capacity for love - but what she'd say was "he's got such beautiful eyes," or "I like her big nipples."

Now Amanda added, "And her pussy gets so wet."

There was no point in probing any further - Emily didn't want to hear how nice it was to kiss Julia or how exciting it had been to watch her go down on Karen, and there was nothing she could ask that wouldn't give away her feelings, which she was a little ashamed of. She was jealous; it was as simple as that. She wasn't worried that Amanda would leave her for another woman, but she didn't want her to like someone she didn't like herself.

Emily decided to ignore her foolish jealousy. She said, "Do you want Julia to visit again, baby?"

"Oh, yes," said Amanda. "I'd like to see Julia again."

They got out of the tub. Amanda toweled Emily off, then herself. In Emily's bedroom, she selected some clothing for her mistress and helped her dress.

When that was done, she went to pick up in the slave's quarters. She folded her own bedding and piled it neatly in the corner; Julia's bedding would go to the laundry. Amanda picked it up: underneath were some pages clipped together: they were headed "Little Girl Lost, by Julia Page."

Amanda carried the bedding to the laundry room and brought the pages to Emily.

6. Just us girls

On the following Sunday morning, Julia was again seated in front of Mr. Page. He said, "Did you and Emily get along better together this time? No, don't tell me yet. Tell everything in order. We're writing a novel here."

"If it were fit to publish, Sir."

"Everything you do is fit to publish, Julia."

"If you say so, Sir," said Julia, who knew better. "At three o'clock yesterday, Amanda, naked as before, answered the door of Daniel and Karen's huge apartment. She smiled shyly, pulled me inside, closed the door, and hugged and kissed me. 'Hi, Julia,' she said breathlessly.

"'Hi, Amanda,' I said, grateful that there seemed to be at least one person here who liked me.

"Amanda led me to the kitchen, where Emily was sitting at the bar with a cup of coffee. Lying beside her coffee cup was my latest story. I took a printout with me last week, and I guess I forgot about it.

"'You left this,' said Emily, and handed me the pages.

"I said 'Thanks,' hoping against hope that she hadn't read it.

"But she had. She said, 'Couldn't you have given her a better ending? The way she finds her mother . . .'

"'I left the girl alive,' I said. 'In real life, the ending isn't always that happy.'

"'I know, but . . . you could have gotten her off the street. You could do some good with a story like that, showing how it's done.'

"'Kids like that don't read fiction,' I said. 'Most of them never read at all. If I knew how to get them off the street, which I don't, I still couldn't reach them. But I can show other people what it's like to be homeless.'

"'I know, but it's just . . . sad, is all.'

"'I guess you weren't a literature major,' I said. I was annoyed that she'd read the story - it seemed an invasive thing to do."

"It wasn't, though," said Mr. Page. "As your dominant, she had a right to do it."

"I guess," said Julia. "Anyway, she said, 'I majored in Chemistry.'

"'Figures,' I said.

"'It's a good story,' said Emily. 'I couldn't put it down. It just made me sad, that's all.'

"'It was supposed to make you sad.'

"'Well, it was good.'

"'Thanks,' I said. It was kind of painful to have to thank her.

"She said, 'Do you do a lot of writing?'

"'Yeah,' I said. 'I'm all about two things - writing and being a fuck-toy.'

"'It sounds nice.'

"'It is, most of the time.'

"She looked at me as if I were a riddle she was trying to solve. I know I come across as kind of a bimbo . . ."

"You're not," said Mr. Page.

"I am when we play, Sir. Then I want to be your mindless cunt, good for nothing but a fuck."

"I couldn't love you if you were really mindless."

"I understand, Sir. I'm just explaining that people who don't know me well don't expect me to be able to write."

"Point taken. Now get on with your story."

"Okay, Sir. So Emily stared at me a while and said, 'Do you want to be a fuck toy again today?'

"I was thinking, well, that's why I'm here, and then I thought maybe the question meant that Emily didn't want to play - so I was getting annoyed and confused. I said, 'I guess.'

"Emily said, 'Karen and Daniel are both out for the afternoon - some gallery opening. We're on our own, just us girls. We could watch TV or read. It's up to you.'

"I didn't want anything to be up to me. I was determined to be the submissive. So I said, 'Mr. Page wants me to do what you tell me to do.'

"Emily stared at me and then said, 'What do you think, Amanda? Do you want to play with Julia?'

"'Oh, yes, Emily,' she said, sounding eager. There's nothing in the world quite as compelling to Amanda as a live person.

"'Come to my bedroom,' said Emily.

"Emily's bright and cheerful bedroom had an immense playground of a four-poster bed - bigger than a king size. 'Lie on the bed and spread your legs, Amanda,' she said. 'Julia, you undress.'

"We both did as we'd been told. Amanda was already aroused and touching herself: her dark pink labia swelled as her pale finger slid between them.

"Emily said, 'There was something you forgot to do when you were here last, Julia. Do you know what that was?'

"I nodded, staring at Amanda's pussy, which was already open and wet, appalling and beautiful.

"'You want to do that now, don't you?' said Emily.

"I didn't answer, but just stood there, full of misery. I wish I could be less fastidious, Sir."

"I don't," said Mr. Page. "I like you that way. I love to see you perform cunnilingus, your lips wet with pussy, knowing you find the female genitalia repulsive. Are you getting turned on, telling your story?"

"Yes, Sir. May I masturbate again?"

"You may."

Julia undressed as she continued. "Emily looked confused for a second, and then it was like something clicked inside her, and her whole manner changed in a second.

"Her face hardened, and she spat, 'Bitch!' She grasped the back of my neck and pushed me hard onto the bed.

"I squeaked as my cheek hit the bedspread. In a second, Emily was beside me: she grabbed a handful of my hair and dragged me, scrabbling and flailing, towards Amanda. I tried to struggle to my knees, to get away, but she seized my neck again and shoved my face into Amanda's crotch.

"'Eat her out, cunt,' Emily snapped.

"I don't know - maybe she was just mad at me, but it felt like she knew me almost as well as you do, Sir. It was so hot when she called me 'cunt'! The word made me whine as my mouth closed over Amanda's pussy, Emily's hand still on my neck, holding me firmly in place.

"Amanda's labia were warm on my lips, like a returned kiss. My tongue slid into her, in the wet, over her opening, up to her clitoris, which I stimulated with soft swirls. Amanda rested one hand on a thigh; with the other she massaged a nipple; I saw her eyes close, her lips part, heard her sighs.

"Oh, I could have done it all day, with Emily's hand on my neck, pressing me into Amanda's pussy and making me do what I wanted and didn't want to do: I held onto Amanda's thighs to keep her close and gave her clitoris a soft suck.

"Amanda whined and bucked under me. Emily shoved my head and said, 'Harder, cunt: she's not a Barbie doll.' My tongue flicked at her clitoris and Amanda cried 'Ah! ah!' in her whispery voice, writhing with the stimulation we were giving her.

"Emily was kneeling beside us, right hand still behind my head, and with her left she lifted Amanda's thigh way up. 'Eat her ass, cunt,' she said, and Amanda moaned 'Oooh!' as Emily shoved my face into her crack, and my lips closed over her small pink anus.

"I was moaning too, so humiliated and aroused as I kissed Amanda's ass and wetted her crack with my saliva, emotions and sensations so intense that I didn't notice Emily's hand was gone - not until I felt her fingers in my pussy, fucking me hard, heard the wet sucking noises and Emily saying, 'Yes, of course, Karen: the bitch needs a fuck.'

"Amanda lowered her leg, and there was her pussy again, even wetter now, labia and clitoris swollen, slick wetness trickling from her slit. I lapped it up as Karen's dildo entered me - oh, it must have been a big one, it hurt! But then that's the kind Karen would have, isn't it?

"Karen fucked me slowly at first; Emily had one hand on my back, another massaging my nipple. As Karen gained force and speed, exclaiming, 'Dear, sweet cunt!' my body jerked with her thrusts, jamming my mouth into Amanda's pussy. I let my tongue work with Karen's rhythm, battering Amanda, who was crying, 'Oh! Oh!' near coming, and nearer, and finally biting her hand and emitting a thin high scream, pussy so hot - I could feel her passion on my lips.

"I lifted my head, not wanting to stop but knowing Amanda would be too sensitive now; but Emily pushed my head down and said, 'Keep eating, cunt!' So I did - I let Karen pound my face into Amanda, who writhed and cried 'No!' but didn't try to get away.

"Karen's breathing was heavy with exertion, and my pussy was so full of her dildo, and Emily was massaging my clitoris now - oh, it was too much! Amanda drew her feet back, raised her knees, rolled her pelvis upwards, and I gave her long licks, anus to clitoris and down again, over and over, lingering on each end.

"Karen came noisily behind me; her rhythm slowed; the stimulation was less, despite Emily's hand, which was rubbing my whole pussy now. I seized Amanda's thighs and tongue-fucked her clitoris as hard as I could, digging at her as I thrust, willing her to come again.

"By the time Amanda came, my body was numb with arousal, my mind fogged with yearning - I'd have given anything for you to be face-fucking me and massaging my pussy till I came with violent spasms. But it was Amanda coming, not me; and Emily took her hand away.

"I lay on the bed, unsatisfied. 'I didn't come,' I complained.

"'Be a good slut,' said Emily, 'and maybe you'll get an orgasm tonight.'

"'What's happening tonight, Emily?' I asked.

"'Patience,' she said."

7. A wild ride

Julia had been masturbating vigorously; now she slowed down as she continued her story. "Karen went off to do something or other, and Emily and I relaxed with some wine before dinner while Amanda sat watching us, as usual. We weren't exactly easy with each other: I was still miffed that she didn't want me for herself, but made me play with Amanda and Karen. But we got better acquainted. We figured out that we graduated from the same university in the same year. We know a few of the same people, but not many. We moved in different circles, and I doubt we would have liked each other if we'd met. She was a small town girl on a merit scholarship, and I was from Greenwich, a legacy admit and a rich bitch - "

"Till you weren't," said Mr. Page.

"Yes, Sir. And I learned more about Frederick - a handsome sadist. He left her for another woman last winter, and now he says that's the worst and stupidest thing he's ever done. She's seeing a little of him, and she can't decide whether to take him back.

"Anyway, Sir, eventually they called us to dinner, and it was just like last week: plates and silverware for Emily, Daniel and Karen and dog bowls for Amanda and me. I wasn't even sure what exactly was in the bowls: meat, vegetables, and potatoes all jumbled together, but different from before.

"Amanda dug right in the way she did last week and ate fast. I picked at my dinner again, trying not to muss my face. Don't you think I should try to be less vain, Sir?"

"No," said Mr. Page. "You always look perfect, a flawless gem. I love showing you off to the world - and then when I get you home, I love making a mess of you. It's beautiful what a well-aimed jet of semen will do to a careful application of mascara."

Mr. Page's words gave Julia a twinge down below, and so did remembering what happened next.

"Amanda was done with her dinner in just a few minutes - she eats fast, but not a lot. I had taken only a few bites. I was just trying to pick up a green bean when I felt a light hand on my back, touching, then petting me. After a few moments of this, the hand left me, and Amanda's face appeared next to me. As I looked sideways, she moved in, gently nudging me aside, lowered her face to my bowl, and took some food in her mouth. She sat up, put a hand on my shoulder, and raised me to a sitting position.

"Amanda's face was damp: there were flecks of meat and vegetable around her mouth. She leaned forward as if for a kiss. I was kind of sicked out, and I wanted to pull away, but then all at once I understood what she was going to do, and I was overwhelmed by a sense of being given a great gift that it would be unthinkable to refuse.

"So I held still. Amanda's soft lips touched mine - it was like a kiss. I opened my mouth - just a little, but that was all she needed. She opened her own lips and with her tongue pushed a cube of beef into my mouth. She straightened up then and watched with dark, somber eyes as I slowly chewed my mouthful of food and swallowed it. All the time I was looking back at her and hardly believing what we were doing.

"Conversation at the table had stopped. Amanda bent down for another bite - a bit of potato, which she gave me in the same way. Then a green bean; then some meat again. Patiently and with great care, she fed me, and my heart felt like it was swelling to fill my whole body - I was so overcome with the sensation of Amanda's lips, the food's flavor, and my own gratitude.

"When I had finally had enough, I kissed Amanda and said, 'Thank you.' She didn't reply with words, but sat back on her heels and stared at me with that solemn gaze of hers.

"Over at the table, Daniel breathed 'Fuck,' and Karen said, 'Has there ever been such a dear creature?' with rhetorical grandeur. Emily didn't say anything.

"Karen took Amanda away after dinner - I really hope no one will ever tell me what they were up to - and Emily and Daniel took me to the playroom, where a frame had been set up in the middle of the floor. It was about five feet wide and five feet high. A collar dangled from a rope attached to the top beam, and there were cuffs attached to both of the side beams. The frame was bolted to a plywood platform, and attached to the platform was a Sybian machine - do you know what those are, Sir?"

"I've seen them, but I don't know much about them."

"It's like a saddle with a machine inside. You can mount a dildo on the top, and that moves inside you and vibrates. They had put it in the frame to turn it into a bondage device.

"Emily lubricated the dildo, which was short and bulbous, and said, 'Sit.' I did, easing down on the dildo slowly because it was so wide at the top, and she put the collar around my neck and the cuffs on my wrists. She tightened everything so my arms were spread wide, and I couldn't move much side to side. The collar's rope was tight enough that I couldn't move more than a few inches forward or backward without serious discomfort. There were also cuffs on the platform, on either side of the machine: these went around my calves so I couldn't stand and free myself that way.

"I was feeling vulnerable, exposed, and scared of what the Sybian machine would be like. It didn't help much that Daniel was saying, 'Last time I put Karen in that frame, she spent the whole night screaming.'

"Emily was holding a control box on a long cord. She said, 'Let's start slowly,' and turned on the moving dildo, which doesn't go in and out, but sort of back and forth and round and round. It's supposed to stimulate the G-spot. At first, it gave me some mild and pleasurable stimulation.

"She turned on the vibrator. Even on low, the stimulation was intense - and of course I was pretty turned on from Amanda feeding me at dinner. I liked it, and I squirmed on the saddle to enhance the feeling.

"Emily and Daniel sat watching while my arousal built, and waves of pleasure washed through my body. I thought it probably wouldn't take me very long to come.

"Daniel said, 'Wish it was my cock in her instead of that dildo.'

"'You can fuck her face, if you can reach it,' said Emily.

"'I don't think I can, though,' he said. 'We'll have to rethink the way the cuffs work, so the victim has to lean forward.'

"'Well, you can have a turn with the controls, anyway,' said Emily, and handed him the box.

"Daniel sat with the box in his lap for a minute, gazing at me while I returned his look nervously. Then all at once he turned the vibrator way up.

"I screamed with the sudden stimulation, the vibrations were so intense, and the whole world was narrowing so nothing existed but my clitoris and Daniel's hand on the control box. I struggled to get myself under control and managed to stop screaming, but I couldn't stay quiet - I said, in a sort of squeak, 'Oh God Oh God Oh God,' over and over. This went on for maybe five minutes, with Daniel and Emily just looking on, enjoying my agony.

"And then he turned it up more, and I screamed again. I tried to wriggle away from it, but I couldn't move my lower body at all, and it made my collar pull painfully, so I gave it up. I couldn't say 'Oh God' anymore either, but just made this continuous high whine - like a cross between a police siren and a scalded cat. I'm pretty sure I could have safeworded if I'd wanted to, but I couldn't have put together a coherent sentence. Tears were streaming from my eyes - "

"Your mascara was running," Mr. Page observed with obvious pleasure.

"Yes, Sir, since you don't let me buy the waterproof kind."

"Waterproof makeup is no fun," he said.

"I just wish you'd let me wear it in public, Sir."

"Maybe in restaurants and the like, but never at play parties."

"I could live with that, Sir."

"So was the Sybian going full tilt yet?"

"No, Sir. But I came then, a huge violent orgasm that made me pull at my collar so hard it hurt. Daniel turned down the vibrator, and I relaxed, but he didn't turn it off, and I was really sensitive just then.

"I moaned, 'Please, Daniel, no more!' but still he didn't turn it off. He didn't have to, since I hadn't used a safeword - and I guess that means I really did want more. He turned it way up again, past where it had been before - I couldn't believe how intense it could get. It was making a loud buzz now - you could even hear it over my screams. My body was trembling, I was sweating all over, and wetness was pouring down the insides of my thighs.

"I was dimly aware of Karen and Amanda coming into the playroom, Karen saying 'Oh, my!' and sitting to watch. Things were coming in and out of focus, and I really didn't care about anything much besides my pussy, but I noticed at some point that Karen had hiked her dress up and was holding Amanda's head to her crotch. It occurred to me that she uses her the way other women use vibrators.

"The stimulation was impossible, it was painful, I couldn't believe it could go on and get more intense, but Daniel turned it up again, and I came again a few seconds later with a huge rush and an unfamiliar sensation below. 'She squirted!' Karen cried, and Daniel turned down the machine again.

"I was starting to cry - "

"But you weren't near safewording," said Mr. Page.

"No, Sir. I wanted the stimulation, even if there was pain along with it. And then I imagined it was you holding the controls, Sir - maybe I even thought it was you, I was in such a fog - and I realized it was a thing I wanted to do with you."

"Shall we buy a Sybian and put it in a frame?"

"I'd like that, Sir. Anyway, I was still crying when Daniel turned up the vibrator again, and the dildo's movement too, and my body tensed, I twisted, pulling against my cuffs, not caring about the pain, and my continuous shriek was deafening even to me. I seemed to be sitting in a puddle - I wasn't really, moisture runs off the Sybian, but I really had squirted and the machine and my thighs were all wet. My body was jerking and spasming, and when I came for the third time, screaming 'Oh, God, Oh, fuck!' I felt like my pussy and nipples would explode. Then I went numb. I was completely exhausted, and I just hung limp in the frame.

"'That's enough, Daniel,' said Emily, and took the control away from him. They all started to come back into focus. Daniel's eyes shone with pleasure. Karen was looking a bit wilted - I guess Amanda had given her an orgasm.

"Daniel came over to release me from the frame. He helped me get up. It felt strange not to have the Sybian moving inside me and buzzing against my clitoris. My legs were wobbly, and I was shaking all over. Holding me upright with an arm around my waist, he guided me to a sofa by the wall, where he sat with me.

"'I'll take care of her,' he said.

"Emily looked dubious. She said, 'Is that all right, Julia?'

"'Okay,' I said, not really caring as long as I got some rest.

"We sat for a long time as my strength slowly returned. After a while Karen got up and left. Nodding, I thought I'd lay my head on Daniel's shoulder for just a minute.

"When I woke up, I was alone with him, my head still on his shoulder. I caught some movement and looked down: he had his hand round his cock, and he was stroking himself.

"I made a startled movement; it was too late to pretend to be asleep. Daniel didn't stop his masturbation, but raised his free hand to cup the back of my head and slowly, firmly, pushed my head down."

"This is not good aftercare technique," said Mr. Page.

"That occurred to me at the time, Sir, but it's easy to excuse it after the show I'd given him - and I'd been sitting beside him naked for I don't know how long, and no one had given him any relief. He may be a billionaire, but he's only human, Sir."

"I suppose," said Mr. Page.

Julia continued, "Holding his cock in his hands, he guided it into my mouth, and I sucked him, Sir. Not a blowjob like the ones I give you, but a good one - one that you'd be proud of. I sucked his balls and licked his shaft; I nibbled his head and licked the pre-cum out of his slit. Then I sucked him off, holding him in my hand till he came in my mouth. I let it run out of me over his cock. Then I stood up, said 'Thank you, Daniel,' and left him to clean himself up. That wasn't payback, Sir - I was just very tired.

"When I got to the slave quarters, Amanda was asleep. I showered quickly, crawled into bed, and fell asleep instantly.

"I woke in the middle of the night, the way Amanda had the week before. Thinking about my ride on the Sybian and the blowjob I'd given Daniel, I quickly grew hot and agitated. I looked across the room. In the dim light of the waning moon, I could see that Amanda was turned towards me, sleeping soundly. I could hardly make out her face. I crawled across the room and slowly, carefully pulled back her sheet and blanket. In that light, her body was ghostly pale: I thought it would be transparent if she were standing in front of the window.

"I knelt beside her and studied her delicate features, waiting. At length she slowly and sleepily opened her eyes. She turned her head and focused on me. She smiled.

"'Hi, Julia,' she whispered.

"'Hi, Amanda,' I replied, bent down, and kissed her."

While Julia was telling her story to Mr. Page, Emily and Amanda had a lovely sixty-nine on Emily's bed. Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms while the post-orgasmic glow slowly dissipated. When the last wisps of it were no longer worth preserving, Emily said, "Tell me what happened between you and Julia last night."

"How did you know, Emily?" Amanda asked.

"I smelled pussy on you this morning, baby," she said.

"Oh," said Amanda. She sometimes imagined that her lover and mistress was magic; she was faintly disappointed to learn that her method of detection was so mundane.

"What happened, sweetie?" Emily asked again.

"She woke me up and kissed me," said Amanda.

"And how did you make love?"

"We ate each other, and then we tribbed. You're not mad, are you, Emily?"

"No, Amanda - I'm glad you made love. I just wanted to know."

So Julia had initiated the encounter. Not only had she shown a lot of toughness on the Sybian the night before, she had also made love to Amanda without being forced. Being affectionate towards Emily's sweet, fragile slave was an important test of character, and Julia was passing it handily, despite some early stumbles.

Emily said, "Do you want her to come back next week, baby?"

8. A few friends

Julia said, "When Amanda opened the door this time, she had a haunted, scared look. She let me in, hugged and kissed me, and whispered, 'Emily's upset.'

"'Why?' I asked.

"'She tried to do her hair, and it didn't come out well.'

"'So? She can go to a salon and get it fixed.'

"'But they're having Frederick over tonight and she wants to look good.'

"'How bad is it?'

"'She tried to use a dye remover, and it turned her hair orange.'

"I said, 'You'd better take me to her.' How much of this do you want to hear, Sir?"

"Why don't you give me the summary version, Julia?"

"She wanted to restore her hair's natural color - a light brown. She thought she could use a dye remover to do that, but it took away a lot of her own pigment. And then she had no idea what to do about makeup."

"So you helped her."

"Oh, Sir, we had the best time! I sent Amanda out with a list of stuff to get, and we colored Emily's hair to pretty close to her own shade, as far as she could remember it, and we did it so it was kind of naturally mussed, if you know what I mean . . ."

"Like what you do with yours."

"Yeah, but mine is big and wavy, and hers is shorter and straighter, so we made it into a kind of messy bob, and it was really pretty. She's got an oval face and green eyes and warm skin, so she had to have this rich brownish-red lipstick and a sort of plum eye shadow . . ."

"I get it. Go on."

"Not to boast or anything, Sir, but she came out looking really beautiful."

"Was she happy?"

"She said she was, Sir, but she was scared, because Frederick had never seen anything but her emo look. We spent all afternoon on it, and when we were done it was almost time for the guests to arrive.

"The thing is, Emily and I kind of forgot to be submissive and dominant while all this was going on. Amanda ran to get us some wine in the little time we had left, and Emily said, 'I'm not really a switch, you know. I can top - topping isn't necessarily a dominance thing - but I can't be a dominant, not really.'

"'But you have a slave!'

"'I've got a sweet, damaged woman who needs me. From my perspective my relationship with Amanda is all about meeting her needs, and what she needs is for me to own and control her. So that's what I do.'

"'You've done pretty well with me.'

"'I've done as little as possible with you, and when I've had to, I've pretended to be a dominant, but it doesn't feel like me. What I really want, what I've always wanted, is to be a slave for a really good master or mistress - someone I can love with all my heart. Karen and Daniel are having a few friends over, and Frederick is one of them. I asked them to invite him because I don't think I can decide about him until I've played with him.'

"'So will I be on my own tonight?'

"'Not really. Arthur has given me a sort of program for you.' You were ingenious, Sir."

Mr. Page smiled. "Thank you. Now go on with your story."

"Yes, Sir. The 'few friends' they'd invited over turned out to be six. Teddy was there. Then there was Frederick, of course: he's a lawyer in Daniel's firm. He brought another lawyer from the firm: his name was Matthew and he was really young (Daniel said he was 'curious about the lifestyle'). There was a man in his fifties, very distinguished looking, but all I picked up about him is that his scene name is Frey. And there was a thin, hawk-like middle-aged woman called Vamp with a severe manner, red hair, and a skimpy red dress."

"Not a balanced group," said Mr. Page.

"I noticed that, Sir. But remember there were four women and one man in Karen and Daniel's household. So it turned out there were five women and five men at the party.

"Emily told me to take my clothes off before everyone came. They all stood around chatting in the huge living room while Amanda and I brought them drinks. No one touched us, but Teddy kept grinning at me. Honestly, Sir, I don't know why he keeps getting invited to things."

"He has his uses."

"I was the one that opened the door for Frederick. I didn't know who he was at first: he's this really handsome thirty-something with sandy hair and a close-cropped beard. He stared at me for just a second, and when I showed him in he looked around the room till he spotted Emily. She had found this beige one-shoulder dress that showed off her tattoo . . ."

"You can skip the fashion stuff," said Mr. Page.

"Yes, but I really love her tattoo, Sir. Don't you think it's beautiful?"

"Very nice," said Mr. Page.

Julia would come back to the subject of nice tattoos some other time. She continued, "Emily was turned away from him, talking to Daniel, and when Frederick spotted her he made a beeline for her. That's when I knew for sure who he was.

"When she noticed him, she turned, gave him a dazzling smile, and said, 'Hi, Frederick.'

"'My God,' he said. 'I . . .'

"He was at a loss for words. She frowned and said, 'You don't like it.'

"'I love it,' he said. 'It's going to take some getting used to, but . . . you're beautiful.'

"You can imagine how I felt hearing that, Sir. But I couldn't stay around to eavesdrop any more, because I had to fetch him his drink - a scotch, which he hardly touched.

"At dinner, Amanda and I ate from our dog bowls again. It turned out that Matthew was a submissive, so they made him strip and eat from a dog bowl too. This time I did it the way Amanda does and just messed up my face. Matthew watched us for a minute and then dug into his bowl the way we were doing. He was red-faced with humiliation, and he had an erection. I didn't want much to eat, so after a short time I just knelt on the floor and watched the people at the table. Emily and Frederick were deep in conversation, but I couldn't hear what they were saying, because Teddy was telling rude stories in a booming voice. The others were mostly ignoring him, just laughing politely before going back to their conversations.

"After dinner they gave Amanda and me time to clean up and fix our makeup, and then we reported to the playroom, where the other eight people had already gathered. There were stocks set up in the middle of the floor - but you know this already, Sir."

Mr. Page leaned back and closed his eyes. "Go on," he said.

"There was . . . Sir, there was a metal box on the floor beside the stocks; it had a coin slot in the top, and '25¢' written on it in thick black letters.

"Everyone turned to look at us as we came in, or that's what I thought at first. Actually they were looking at me.

"Emily said, 'Excuse me' to Frederick and came over to me. 'Come,' she said, took my hand, and led me to the stocks."

"Did you understand what was happening?" asked Mr. Page.

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me how you felt."

"I was panicky, Sir. My blood was racing and I was short of breath. Everyone was staring at my naked body, smiling: they knew what was going to happen to me, and the knowledge filled them with pleasure. They were enjoying the thought of my degradation, Sir, and that made me feel degraded already. I wanted to cry.

"You didn't have to do it. You could have safeworded."

"I know, Sir, but I was sure you had arranged it, and knowing I'd be telling you this, I was almost as turned on as I'd have been if you were there. Is this good for you, Sir?"

"Very good, Julia. Tell your story."

"The stocks were the kind that hold head, hands, and ankles, Sir. Emily guided me in - her touch was so gentle - and when she was done I was bent at the waist, my legs were spread, and my back was roughly parallel to the floor. My head was a little less than waist high.

"Amanda came over with a towel and a bottle of lubricant, which she applied liberally to my pussy and ass, pushing lots of it inside me. If we'd been alone, I would have liked her fingers, but all I could feel was the humiliation.

"When Amanda was done, she wiped her hands with the towel.

"Vamp was the first to approach us."

"The redheaded woman," said Mr. Page.

"Not a redhead in the traditional sense, Sir. Her hair was dyed red - a kind of electric coppery red. It was a match for her dress, which was so skimpy it didn't cover her big red strap-on, which stuck way out in front.

"'What's this?' she said to Emily, gesturing towards me.

"'A sex vending machine,' she said, pointing at the coin box, which Vamp examined closely.

"'What do I get for a quarter?' she asked, walking a slow circle around me.

"'Vending machines only dispense measured amounts,' said Emily. 'This one's a quarter a hole.' Then she said to me, 'Three people, then you're done. I'm going to go now. Amanda will take care of you.'

"She petted my cheek, just once, briefly, and left to join Frederick, who'd been standing about ten feet away.

"Vamp fished in a little red purse for a quarter, which she dropped into the box with a loud clang. 'I guess I'll start with the mouth,' she said.

"Vamp isn't very tall, so Amanda ran to get a footstool for her. Meanwhile, Emily was standing in front of Frederick and looking up into his face. He said something I couldn't hear, and she stripped for him - so sensuously! When she was naked, he put the collar on her and attached the leash to the collar. She looked really sexy in a collar, Sir. She had this dreamy look on her face - she seemed incredibly happy.

"Frederick led her away, somewhere I couldn't see, and left Vamp and me alone together. Nervously, I watched her lubricate her dildo.

"Amanda returned with the footstool, which she put in front of me. Vamp climbed up on it, took two handfuls of my hair, and without saying a word, pulled me down onto her dildo, so it slid straight into my throat. I choked and spluttered, mostly for effect, Sir - making someone suck your dildo is entirely a head game since you don't get any sensation, and so special effects are important. She was getting turned on, too: it wasn't long before a trickle of her wetness ran down her leg.

"I wasn't going to make her come sucking her dildo, so she paid another quarter to fuck my pussy. She didn't need the stool for that, since I could bend my legs for her. It was a big dildo, too, so I was pretty stretched."

"Did she come?"

"I think so, Sir, but I couldn't see, only hear and feel what she was doing to me. And while she was doing it, Frey, Sir . . . Frey dropped a quarter in the box and . . . Do you know him, Sir?"

"No," said Mr. Page, still leaning back, relaxed in his chair.

"He has a very big cock, Sir. He lifted my head by the hair and drove in deep, all at once. I think he likes to make women gag."

"Did you?"

"Did I gag, Sir? Some, before I got myself under control. I must have pleased him, because he paid another quarter for my pussy, once Vamp was done with it. Does it do something for you, Sir, knowing I was fucked by two people you don't know?"

"Were you turned on, Julia?"

"Turned on, Sir, and needy. I wanted you so badly."

"That's what turns me on, Julia."

"With Frey behind me, Sir, I could see a lot of the room. Just off to my left, Karen was sitting on Matthew's face and playing with his cock. Daniel and Vamp were relaxing with drinks, watching me and talking. Maybe Daniel was telling her about the time he fucked me, or how I'd sucked his cock the week before."

"Or maybe they were talking about stock prices," said Mr. Page dryly.

"The thought that they may not have been talking about me turns me on even more, Sir. Suddenly I heard a sharp scream, and Frederick came into view dragging Emily to this big wooden cross right in front of me. He had two fingers hooked in her collar; her leash was swinging between her breasts, and she was sobbing and stumbling along beside him. She was kind of struggling while he cuffed her to the cross and crying, 'Oh, please, master!' He was holding a whip - a cat o' nine tails."

Julia paused here, stood, and pulled her sweater over her head. She unfastened her bra as she continued. "I was really scared. You remember the panic attack I had the one time you were going to whip me, Sir? The day we made that a hard limit? Well, I had the same kind of feeling watching Frederick get ready to whip her - only not as bad, since it wasn't me getting whipped."

Julia squeezed a nipple between two fingertips and said, "When he actually hit her on the bottom, it was an anticlimax. It was almost like a caress, and I thought, is that all there is to it? But as he went on hitting her, the blows got harder and more frequent. Everyone was watching. I'm sure Frey was too, even though he was fucking me, because his breathing got heavy and he was thrusting hard and fast."

Julia sat on the floor again and massaged her other nipple as she continued. "By the time Frederick really got going, Emily was giving an ear-piercing shriek with every blow and sobbing in between; and I was gasping and shrieking too. I didn't want to watch, but I couldn't make myself close my eyes. It was like I could feel the lashes myself: the imagined sensation was much more vivid than Frey's cock in me, even though his thrusts jarred my whole body, knocking my shoulders against the wood of the stocks.

"The whip made these bright red stripes on Emily's bottom, more and more of them. By the time Frey dropped another quarter in the box and jammed his big cock into my ass, so I was screaming with my own pain, not just Emily's, almost her whole bottom was red. And by that time she was quieting down - not shrieking, but giving these loud sighs, eyes half closed, and starting to sag in her cuffs."

"She was in subspace," said Mr. Page.

"Yes Sir: I've been there too. When she looked like she was about to lose consciousness, Frederick stopped, removed her cuffs, and sat on the floor with her. She lay in his lap looking spent and euphoric while he gazed into her eyes with a look that seemed so gentle after the violence of the whipping.

"I'd almost forgotten Frey, but he came back around to my head, cutting off my view, pulled off his condom, and jerked off in my face. He drenched me, Sir, or that's how it felt - splash after splash on my forehead and cheeks, and one in my left eye, which I know you'll appreciate, Sir."

"I do, Julia."

Julia lay back and wiggled out of her jeans and panties, then sat up again. "I stood in the stocks with my eyes closed, waiting for the semen to drip away, but before that would happen someone's finger wiped my left eyelid clean. I opened my eyes to see Emily crouching in front of me. She put a hand under my chin to make me lift my head and said, 'What do you think, Master?'

"Frederick was standing behind her. 'She's kind of a mess,' he said.

"'I can clean her up for you,' said Emily.

"'No,' I whispered. 'Not Frederick.'

"'Why not, baby?' She glanced up at Frederick, and he took a step back.

"We were speaking low so no one could hear but the two of us. 'He's yours, Emily. The two of you should make love, not him and me.'

"'I'm not ready to have sex with him.'

"'You're saying this to a girl who's playing a sex vending machine.'

"'I respect your kink, Julia, even though it's not mine. This is different: if I have sex with him now, that decides everything. I'm his.'

"'Everything is decided anyway, Emily,' I said. I still can't quite believe I was having this conversation in the stocks, with cum dripping off my face. But I said, 'I was watching you after your whipping. The way he looked at you - it was exactly the way Mr. Page looks at me in aftercare. He really loves you: I'm sure of it. And I think you love him. There's nothing to be afraid of, aside from whippings.'

"She smiled and said, 'The whippings are the only thing I'm not afraid of. I thought I might get the better of my fear if I saw him do it, and it wasn't me.'

"'It won't work,' I said. 'You won't overcome your fear till you do it yourself.'

"'There's another thing,' she said. 'Teddy wants a turn with you, but Frederick was going to be your last. If it isn't Frederick, it has to be Teddy. He's next in line.'

"I groaned, and my heart sank, Sir. I really didn't want Teddy to fuck me in the stocks. I knew he'd be awful. Frederick looked nice, and he seemed like a nice person. I thought he'd be rough, but then so are you, Sir."

Mr. Page was leaning forward in his chair now, elbows on his knees, eyes bright. Julia was touching herself lightly, maybe even unconsciously, like Amanda.

"I said, 'Go make love to Frederick, Emily, and send Teddy to me.' I let my head fall. It was a lot of effort to keep it upright.

"Emily didn't say anything for a long time. Then she kissed my damp cheek, said, 'Thank you, Julia,' and stood up.

"She said, 'Excuse me a second, Master' to Frederick and stepped away. She came back a minute later leading Teddy. 'Don't forget to pay,' she told him.

"Teddy said, 'Look at me, whore.' His words were like a slap. I looked up at him.

"He said, 'You look familiar. Didn't I fuck you recently?'

"'Yes, sir.'

"He was wearing his latex costume - you know the one: it's shiny and has a zipper. He was unzipping it and pulling himself out as he said, 'Remind me, now: did I fuck your pussy, ass or mouth?'

"'All of those, sir.'

"He said, 'Ah, now it comes back to me! Forgive my poor memory: there are so many whores in this city, it's hard to keep 'em all straight. You are a whore, right?'

"'When my dominant wants me to be,' I said. All this time I was watching Emily and Frederick. They were standing in front of the cross, arms around each other. She was naked, he was in a three-piece suit, and they were kissing. They were so beautiful, my eyes were tearing up.

"Teddy dug in his pocket and pulled out a one-dollar bill. 'Four times twenty-five cents,' he said. 'Mouth, cunt, asshole, mouth again.' He rolled up the bill and pushed it through the slot in the coin box. Somehow he made even that look obscene, like a cock pressing into an anus. Then he . . . oh, Mr. Page, remembering it makes my skin crawl. Do I have to tell this part?"

"Yes," he said. "I need to hear everything."

"He jerked himself off, just inches from my face, till he was hard, and then said, 'Into the cock pocket, whore.' I opened my mouth for him. Sir, it's not his penis, or his body, I don't mind that he's fat: it's that he looks at everything as foul and obscene. There's nothing in the world he doesn't consider a dirty joke, and that includes me, Sir."

Mr. Page was leaning back again, eyes closed. "Go on: you opened your mouth; you sucked his cock."

"Yes, Sir. He held my head up with two hands and fucked my face. You've seen him do it before, Sir. It gets you off, seeing me with him, more than seeing me with anyone else."

"Yes, Julia."

"Why is that, Sir?"

"Play with your pussy," said Mr. Page, "and go on with your story."

Julia was already lying down with her hand on herself. She moved her hand and said, "He followed his program, Sir. He moved to the back of me and thrust into my pussy. He made me feel unclean, the way he always does. But when he wasn't blocking my view anymore, I could see Emily on her knees in front of Frederick, and he was ramming into her mouth the way Teddy had just done - but Sir, it's so different when there's love in it."

"Don't be so sure that Teddy doesn't love you, in his own way."

"I don't want anyone's love but yours, Sir. Emily's mouth was wide open around Frederick's cock, and every thrust jolted her head and her whole body, and she was gazing up at him with this look in her eyes . . ."

"I know that look," said Mr. Page.

"Yes, Sir. She looked like she felt exactly what I feel for you. That's why I know they're going to be all right.

"Teddy pulled out of my pussy and shoved into my ass, Sir, and I hardly cared about the pain, or the way he was muttering insults as he fucked me. Frederick had Emily on her shoulders and knees, holding her head down with a hand in her hair and taking her from behind. Her cheek was scrubbing the floor; her mouth was open a little, eyes seeing something very far off . . . it was beautiful, Sir."

"Come here, Julia," said Mr. Page. She stalked to him on hands and knees as she continued her story.

"Teddy rushed around me, pumping himself frantically," she said, undoing Mr. Page's belt with slender fingers. "He got to me just in time to lift my head by the hair and gush into my face. He came a lot, Sir, and it got everywhere." Julia unzipped Mr. Page's trousers and reached in to take him in her hand. "And then he let my head drop and walked away. Has he ever had a sub of his own, Sir? It's hard to imagine anyone putting up with that kind of behavior for long."

"He's had only short-term relationships since I've known him."

Julia pulled Mr. Page's cock out and licked him up and down. Her lips brushed his frenum as she continued.

"I felt abandoned, Sir, like nobody loved me or cared about me: I was sure they'd leave me in the stocks overnight. I was crying, Sir, nose running, tears mingling with the semen on my cheeks. You seemed so far away: I had no idea how I'd ever get back home to you.

"In front of me, Frederick was fucking Emily's ass, sometimes caressing and sometimes slapping her, and she was making little gasping moans and stroking herself. The longer I watched, Sir, the more I was convinced of her happiness. Soon I was weeping with joy instead of misery, and when Emily came with a series of shrieks, I felt almost like it was me coming.

"Frederick came with a shudder and Emily collapsed onto the floor. He sat beside her and petted her neck and shoulders.

"'He loves her,' said Amanda, who was sitting on the floor beside the stocks.

"'And you love her, too.'

"'Yes.'

"Amanda got to her knees and kissed me. Then she licked my face. I know it was mainly the semen she was after, and maybe my tears too, and it was shocking, but it was sweet and caring too. She worked on me patiently till she'd gotten it all, and my face was clean except for her saliva and the smudged remains of my makeup. And Mr. Page, I am so in love with you!"

Julia's lips slid over the smooth head of Mr. Page's cock, and she slowly, slowly took him in, wanting to draw out his pleasure in seeing his shaft disappear between her pale pink lips. When her nose was flattened against him, she raised her head faster till her lips were just kissing the end. She squeezed out a clear slippery drop, which she licked up, and went down again, slowly, but faster with every stroke, enjoying the way his hand rested on her head, controlling without forcing her - he shouldn't exert himself too much - till she got to her feet and bent over between his legs so she could drive him deeper into her and choke on him.

She didn't slow down when she felt his body tense and knew his orgasm was on the way, and not when she felt his thighs move under her hands. It was only when she knew for sure the time had come that she went down on him as far as she could, lips disappearing into his fly, and let him pump his load deep inside her, his breath coming hard, his orgasm so long - four weeks of semen saved up for this moment. It filled her mouth, gushed up into her sinuses, and dripped from her nose.

She held him on her tongue and felt his semen ooze from the back of her mouth to pool behind her lips. She slowly lowered her bottom till she was squatting, his cock still in her, and then sat back, careful not to lose anything as he left her mouth. She looked up at him and saw that he was watching, interested as always. She had to look a sight with that milky, viscous rope dangling from one nostril, and he would know how her sinuses burned - that was her gift to him. She smiled at him, heart swelling, and swallowed his semen, hating and loving it, as she'd done hundreds of times in the nearly three years of their love.

"Come sit in my lap," said Mr. Page, and Julia climbed into his lap. He put one arm around her waist; with a fingertip of his free hand he took the strand of semen from her nose and fed it to her.

"Tell," he said.

Julia put her arms around Mr. Page's neck and whispered her story in his ear. "I asked Amanda, 'what will happen if she moves in with him?'

"She said, 'I can't go with her. I make her life too complicated. But it's okay. Karen will take care of me, and Emily won't leave me, not really.' Her manner was matter-of-fact as she said this: she was stating simple truths.

"We watched Emily and Frederick cuddle: she was sitting in his lap, the way I'm in yours now, and they were absorbed in each other.

"Karen took Amanda away, and I was alone in the stocks. I wasn't really watching anymore, but thinking about you and me. Our games, Sir: I play at being a slut, a person you can't possibly love; I play at being abandoned. They're the things I'm most afraid of, being unloved and abandoned."

"We all play with the things we most fear and desire, Julia."

"What is that for you, Mr. Page?"

"You already know."

Julia kissed him and said, "Tell me anyway, Sir."

"Being a beast," he said softly, "driven entirely by appetite, incapable of love. Being unworthy of you."

They sat quietly for a long time. At last Mr. Page said, "Is there anything more to tell?"

"Not much, Sir. Eventually they released me from the stocks, and most of the guests left. Karen and Daniel invited Frederick to spend the night, and he and Emily went to bed. Amanda and I took turns showering, and we made a big bed for the two of us in the slave quarters."

"Did you make love?" asked Mr. Page.

"You know the answer, Sir. You're the real author of this whole story: try telling the end."

"You were both exhausted," he said, "but neither of you had had orgasms despite all that sex. So of course you made love. Am I right so far?"

"Yes, Sir," Julia sighed.

"You wondered what she and Karen had done together, but you didn't ask. You didn't want to know."

"I didn't want to know, Sir, but I did ask, and she told me."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I'd rather not, Sir."

"It's just as well. You kissed her."

"Yes, Sir. She was clean. Only the idea was left."

"Ideas are powerful things. Was it difficult?"

"It was very difficult, Sir, but she needed to be kissed, and I needed to kiss her - so I could tell you about it later."

Julia Page sat in her husband's lap until he fell asleep, then lifted herself up very carefully so as not to wake him, dressed, and sat in a chair watching him and thinking. She would try to publish "Little Girl Lost." She had more confidence in the story than in herself as judge of it - but Emily had praised it before she'd stopped hating its author.

Emily was right about it being too dark and sad. Julia decided to relent, at least a little. She'd revise it to let the girl's mother live, and she'd allow them to hope - just enough to give them strength to go on.

Julia glanced up at Mr. Page, who was still napping in his chair. His color was good, his breathing deep and regular. She would sit with him till he woke up, waiting patiently: they had plenty of time.