Message-ID: <45746asstr$1070856603@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Original-Message-ID: <20031208023938.89850.qmail@web14905.mail.yahoo.com> From: Thinking Horndog <im_a_thinker@yahoo.com> X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Sun, 7 Dec 2003 18:39:38 -0800 (PST) Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} Second Best 131/136 {Thinking Horndog} (voy bdsm MF oral anal D/s ir) Date: Sun, 7 Dec 2003 23:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2003/45746> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, hecate Chapter 131. A lot of threads being woven here... __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? New Yahoo! Photos - easier uploading and sharing. http://photos.yahoo.com/ <1st attachment, "SecBest131.txt" begin> Author: Thinking Horndog Title: Second Best Part: 131 Universe: Second Best Summary: A full-length novel that follows several young couples and their families through the period immediately preceding their Senior Prom. Keywords: voy bdsm MF oral anal D/s ir Keywords for full story: F-solo, Ff-inc, M+F Ffm MF mf oral anal bd D/s Mg- inc Fm-inc mm mmf rom MF-reluc Chapter 131 More parental complications Jason entered Armand Wilson's presence with a packet of CDs to find his employer chuckling - something he seldom did... "Sir, here's the first take." "Excellent!" Armand rumbled, "From the transcripts, this should be highly entertaining!" He rose, accepting the packet. "I'll be in the media room. Send Felicia in, hmmm, cuffed, wearing blinders - she doesn't need to see what I'm looking at..." Jason nodded. Felicia was Armand's latest 'toy'. As a rule, Armand's mistresses didn't last long; he broke them, physically or mentally, very quickly. Felicia was no exception; Jason was already handling the details of her daily humiliation, something Armand always did personally in the early stages. Soon, her only utility as far as Armand was concerned would be as an example of total submission to display before the next contestant during her early training... Armand turned at the door, looking thoughtful, "Um, earplugs, too - she can carry them; I'll install them after she arrives. This IS my offspring, after all... And some lube; who knows what I'll decide to do?" Jason nodded - Felicia was indeed on the way out; Armand was obviously pondering some outré entertainment, a sure sign of boredom. Armand turned one more time, "Oh, and if your duties allow, you can view the footage, too - drag in one of the staff to entertain you while you watch." He waggled a finger, "Not Jorge, though - your delight in dominating the poor man is going to lose me a perfectly good driver! If that happens..." Armand turned and left the room, the threat hanging. Jason's teeth were showing, but it had gone from pleasure at the invitation to a rictus at the threat; Jason knew that if he ruined Jorge, not only would he be relegated to driving his employer, but Armand would bend considerable effort to making Jason's plight worse than Jorge's... The four couples left breakfast, each headed out to check on the home front. Dina, intent on arriving home separately from Rick, headed over to Bobby's house with him for a bit. The pair found Helen and Al, obviously barely ambulatory, slurping coffee in the kitchen. "Morning, Son, Dina," Al rumbled. Bobby glanced around; dear ol' Dad was looking mighty pleased with himself... "Hi, Dad, Hi Auntie Helen..." Helen's face was an odd mix of happiness, anticipation, and nervous dread. Bobby picked it up, but he wasn't possessed of the cultural awareness that Dina was. "Hi, Al, Helen - hey, where'd the rock come from?" she asked, on spying the glittering ring on Helen's finger. Bobby, given a target, caught up quickly, "So, the bear trap closed!" Laughing, he turned to Dina with the prediction, "Of course, they're gonna spend the next twenty years trying to figure out who caught who..." "Oh, Bobby, you know how these things go by now!" Dina chided, grinning. "We get you to chase us through the obstacle course until you're winded, then trip you and fall on you - nothing to it!" She turned to Helen, "So, have you set a date? Lemme look at that thing!" Helen managed to get her voice into operation, "Well, right now it's kind of an agreement in principle," she replied. "There are some logistics, and," she glanced uncertainly at Bobby, "other things, to work out." "Logistics, I understand," replied Bobby, nodding. "You're not a problem, and we can move some stuff out of the spare room, but..." He stopped worrying at that problem, and asked, suspiciously, "What 'other things'?" "Um," Helen colored. Dina filled in the gap, "Like the not-generally-known fact that you've had sex with your stepmother-to-be?" Butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, if you believed the expression on her face after dropping THAT bomb! "That's a problem?" Bobby chuckled. "Only if Dad gets strung out about it..." He flicked an eye at his father, who shrugged. "Which he ain't," Bobby continued, looking back at Helen, "So don't get your knickers in a twist... Mom." Helen looked a bit apoplectic. "Uh, just so you, uh don't get any ideas..." Bobby opened his mouth to make a promise that would close off the matter, but Dina kicked him in the shin. He looked toward her in surprise, but she stepped in close and whispered, "Don't make any promises - I might want to even the score!" "Um," Bobby absorbed this, glanced at his father, and announced, "I've been advised once again to hold out for a future draft pick..." Big Al picked up his new fiancée with his eyes and nodded toward Dina, "You know, she's scary!" Dina smiled, sphinx-like. "You'd better get used to us Nellises - between Bobby and Mandi, you can't escape!" Al turned to Bobby, poker-faced, "Son, control your woman!" Bobby started laughing, "Jeez, Dad! You thought I was in charge?" Jackie and Terry found Jennifer in the kitchen, making up a breakfast tray in a white baby-doll nightie, humming a little tune. The pair had made it through the door without much in the way of a clatter; Jennifer leaped a foot when she noticed them. "A tray, Mom?" Jackie queried. Guilt writ large on her face, Jennifer made a game attempt at duplicity, nonetheless. "Thought I'd have a snack while I watch TV in bed..." she quavered. Terry took two steps back, passing through the kitchen door and looking left. "Pair of Dockers on the couch." Jennifer's eyes snapped to Terry, then back to Jackie's catlike smile as she asked, "Pretty hot upstairs, is it?" "Huh? Oh! Yeah!" Jennifer snatched at the shoulder straps of the translucent nightie, acting as if sweat was sticking it to her; the unintended side effect of the action being a momentary exposure of her furry pubic mound to the young couple. Jackie grinned from ear to ear, then began examining her manicure. "So, that's fire extinguisher foam on your thighs?" Jennifer buried her embarrassed face in her hands while the young couple guffawed. "Where's Mike?" Terry asked, when he could breathe again. "In bed, asleep," Jennifer admitted. "We... started late." "YOU did, anyway!" Jackie purred. "You know what the dead giveaway was? More than anything else?" Jennifer shook her head, and Jackie continued, "You've been standing there, virtually naked, for a couple of minutes now. Terry's seen literally everything you've got - and you didn't even flinch!" Jennifer stuck her face in her hands again, but she was laughing. "Well..." Jackie eyed her sidelong, "How do you feel?" Jennifer's smile spoke volumes, "Oh, God! Wonderful!" she exclaimed. She ducked her head. "I screamed like a banshee!" Terry rolled his eyes, and Jackie burst out laughing, "So did I!" They all chuckled for a moment, then Jackie waved her hands at her mother. "Go! Take care of your man! We'll be in my room - I've GOT to get out of this dress!" Jennifer snatched up the tray and padded upstairs, nodding to the pair as they parted company. Jason entered the media room with Consuela, the petite upstairs maid, in tow. Armand was sitting in an armchair, leaning forward, watching events in his ex-wife's den unfold on the sixty inch screen before him. Felicia, a statuesque redhead, knelt before the chair, her ass in the air and her head on the floor, turned to the right so that she could see Armand. She was making noises through the ring gag in her mouth; Armand had four fingers buried in her ass. "Shut up, Felicia," Armand muttered distractedly, "I'm trying to hear the soundtrack!" He locked eyes with her's which were partially obscured by the blinder rig she was wearing, "Unless you want me to go for the wrist?" Felicia's outburst subsided to harsh breathing, and Armand sighed. He'd hoped that her will would be as pliant as her body, but it had broken like a rotten stick under only moderate pressure - which was pleasant, but once done... He reluctantly followed the thought process through to its conclusion: of all his toys, only Sharon seemed to have any resilience, any pliancy... Consuela took one look at Felicia's plight and whimpered, but she didn't move; she knew better. Jason was, if anything, a bit more brutal, physically, than Armand - even when they weren't together, and he didn't feel that he had something to prove. Armand took notice; Consuela was only a bit over five feet, and had that curiously spare but softly rounded build that makes for really beautiful Hispanic girls - if she were a horse, she'd be a thoroughbred. She'd spent a few weeks as Armand's toy, once, and he'd decided to keep her; thus, she was the upstairs maid, her degree in Business Management notwithstanding... "Don't feel that you have to damage her to compete, Jason - I'll be displeased. Care to swap?" Jason showed his teeth, nodding. "Sir." Yes, Felicia was indeed on the way out - Armand didn't share anyone who had his primary attention, it interfered with his control. Looking down into her eyes, Armand experienced the satisfaction of seeing from the expression on her face that she knew it, too. But she said nothing, and moved not a millimeter - only her face betrayed her humiliation. Armand withdrew his fingers from Felicia's distended ass and wiped them on a towel, making a slight grimace of distaste. "She needs a cleanup," he announced. Turning to Consuela, he directed, "Go get the enema kit - the big one - and ask Charles to bring around something for her to expel into from the playroom." Turning to Jason, he asked, "Anything else?" Jason's teeth were still showing. Both of them were aware - as was Felicia - that she would get the wrist, now, at least. Felicia turned her head to the left so that she could see Jason and whimpered. "No, Sir," he replied, blandly, "I'll make do." "Fine." He turned back to Consuela. "Hurry along, then, and bring more towels." Consuela turned to obey, but Armand stopped her at the door with a word, "And Consuela? You're overdressed." Consuela didn't blink; despite the fact that she would be elsewhere for the next few minutes, following her master's instructions, she immediately unzipped and stepped out of her French Maid's frock and released her small round breasts from her black brassiere. As she bent to undo her stockings, Armand held up a hand, "Leave them, for now." He waved regally, and she turned to obey his instructions, her bare ass swaying seductively as she left the room - the outfit was, of course, pantyless... Armand sighed. Once again, he'd put off instant gratification. "Turn around here, Felicia, and let's see what you've learned about throat fucking." He waved Jason to the seat next door. "Back us off to the IR footage at the Porter house, will you? It's about two a.m., I think..." Jason began playing with the DVD player controls, and Felicia knelt up. Armand thought about it a moment, and turned to Jason, "I'm going to pull the ring gag, if you don't mind..." After all, he HAD ceded Felicia's use to Jason. Jason, concentrating upon the DVD player, waved a hand, "That's fine, Sir - I don't get much out of it either. If I feel teeth, there are other actions I can take to instruct her..." Felicia shuddered, wide-eyed, as the possibilities occurred to her. Armand pulled her head into his lap, and removed the ring gag, passing her the soiled towel (turned to a clean area) to wipe up the excess saliva with while the redhead worked her jaw. Armand opened his silk robe and undid his pajama bottoms, pondered the fact that Felicia was cuffed behind her back for a moment, frowning, and slid them to his ankles himself, rather than uncuffing her. Then he pulled her head into his lap, where she stuck her nose in the pubic hair at the root of his slowly extending erection and began laving the stalk without prompting. There WAS something to be said for perfect service, on occasion, Armand reflected. "Ah! Here, Sir?" Armand glanced up. "Yeah, that looks like it." Armand sat forward a bit and lifted Felicia's chin, "Okay, you can start now," he announced blandly, placing a hand behind her head. "Let me guide you." He demonstrated, pulling her head toward him and her mouth onto his cock using gentle pressure with the hand. "Watch me," he admonished, "Breathing is your problem - but you needn't worry, I'll notice if you lose consciousness." He pulled her head forward until he was rooted, deliberately choking her with his length, while his attention returned to the screen. He held her there for a moment, watching the early going where it looked like Tenisha and Draper were going to be the main attraction. Felicia gasped and gurgled and suffered, but did not struggle to back off. He let her off, and after a moment began to urge her forward again; despite the discomfort, Felicia slid her mouth onto his erection apparently willingly. As she began to gag the second time, Armand marveled mentally at the willpower that held her there, choking. It wasn't his hand - he'd only gently pressed on her neck - she hung there, suffering, without any effort on his part to hold her. He released her again, concentrating on the screen as Nora knelt to take the young black boy's cock in her mouth for an extremely short blowjob, allowing Felicia to suck in air and stabilize. Since he'd broken her about a week previously - mostly using mind games, with actually very little physical persuasion - Felicia had turned into a model of compliance, apparently not only accepting humiliation and abuse, but reveling in it - she was, apparently, a 'pain slut' something new in Armand's experience. Her pliant attitude invited excess in dealing with her, and Armand couldn't resist looking for that point where the instinct for self-preservation caused her to resist him, since she apparently had no will - but he was beginning to fear that she had no such instinct! She would make a fine house slave for someone who valued willing compliance, but Armand - and Jason, for that matter - got his enjoyment out of crushing his victim's resistance. This presented a problem... On the screen, Nora stripped, revealing herself to Nate, who reacted with unexpected pleasure to the exposure of her rather generous ass. Armand, almost unconsciously, tugged Felicia forward while he chuckled at the black boy's reaction. Nora's indication that sex was an option, and Nate's demurral and announcement that he and Nora were a couple captured more of his attention than Felicia's throat working on his glans; he was somewhat surprised to feel her going limp... He released her head and stroked her cheek while she wheezed her breath back. Consuela returned, enema kit balanced upon a stack of towels. Charles arrived towing what was in effect a cross between an adult potty chair and a reclining examining table - a reclining backrest and stirrups over an open hole with a tub below. Armand grimaced, turning to Jason and admonishing, "Take it easy." Jason, impressed with Felicia despite himself, nodded. His "Come here, slut," was almost gentle. Felicia rose, sad eyes on Armand as she acknowledged her fall from grace, and minced over to kneel before Jason. Armand, eyes on his naked daughter making out with her new boyfriend, directed Consuela, "Dispense with that, come over here, and kneel up!" Consuela hung the enema bag on a hook on the side of the chair and hustled over to Armand, arriving just in time to take the first thrust of his cock in her pussy as Nora announced that she wanted Nate's cock in her right away! Armand just buried it and let it soak while the kids on the screen skated around the issue of birth control. He looked up at Jason, who had Felicia draped face down in the chair, pumping her full of soapy water, and directed, "Call the gynecologist. He'll see Nora on Monday." Jason fished out his phone and PDA, ignoring Felicia's swelling belly. Armand began slowly stroking Consuela as Nora worshipped Nate's cock. "She's quite the..." Jason stopped dead, glancing at Armand to collect his approval before finishing, "...cockhound, isn't she?" Armand nodded. "I think she's as surprised as everyone else!" Jason showed his teeth again, and turned to Charles, "More water." He then turned his attention to the phone, invoking his override powers to trump the gynecologist's answering service. Felicia whimpered a bit as Jason absently rubbed her clenching asscheeks. Armand slowly pumped into Consuela as he watched the black boy do a creditable job at the juncture of Nora's thighs, then picked up in reaction to the main event. The boy - Nate? - showed what Armand considered to be uncommon concern over the reduction of Nora's hymen; Armand had half- expected him to just climb on and pound away. The slow start allowed Armand to control his own action until the pairing on the screen became a screaming blur and Nora surged in completion. With no thought whatever to Consuela's condition, Armand emptied himself in her pulsing channel. The couple's cleanup efforts were mirrored by Consuela's as she cleaned Armand's cock with her tongue. Armand glanced up at the breakpoint; Witherspoon's team doubtless had full video of the couple's trip to the Wilson home, but just as certainly had decided that it wasn't worth transmitting. Jason was absently delivering another glass of water into Felicia's enema bag. The poor girl already appeared to be about four months pregnant... "Jason!" Armand roared, "Restraint!" Jason glanced up, "Huh? Oh!" A glance at Felicia revealed that she was in dire straits. He closed off the valve and extracted the nozzle, then directed Felicia to roll over. Armand waved Jason over impatiently. "Do you have the appointment yet?" "No, Sir," Jason replied, "He's on the golf course, apparently. I've had him paged." "Very well," Armand groused, "Stay on it." He regarded his aide levelly and continued, "About Felicia - stop trying to get her to fight; it's not in her nature, apparently. The woman has no sense of self- preservation, apparently, and if you go trying to find it we're likely to have a dead woman on our hands." He stared even deeper into Jason's eyes, "Should that occur, I will be EXTREMELY displeased - do I make myself clear?" Jason turned white. "Yes, Sir." "Go play, then, but use some restraint. Don't damage her any more than I already have," Armand rumbled, waving him off, "And get me that appointment!" He dragged Consuela onto his lap and resumed the video. Jason returned to Felicia, who was now supine against the reclining backrest gripping the handles beside it tensely. Her distended belly was one big cramp. But she knew better than to let go... Jason stepped up beside her and began rubbing her belly, squeezing and kneading. Felicia bit her lips, but whimpering cries escaped anyway. Armand chuckled at the little comedy skit Nate put on trying to find something to write Nora's telephone number on, and he got a belly laugh out of Sharon's mistaken attempt at getting the couple into hiding - jerking them from the unlit porch where their observation was limited to infrared into an entryway that sported two pinhole cameras had just the opposite effect from what she'd intended, and Armand thoroughly enjoyed the irony. But Felicia's whimpering interfered with Armand's absorption of the conversation in the den. Armand frowned and cut the video, turning his attention to the luckless woman and her torturer, "Felicia, child, be quiet! You're disturbing me!" Glancing around, Armand discovered a solution: "Charles, give Felicia something to nurse on, so she will be quiet!" Charles blinked. He was fifty, graying, and somewhat heavyset, mostly muscle. He was the head groundskeeper, but he was clever with his hands; the contraption that Felicia was occupying was his rendition of one of Armand's concepts. But he had never actually participated in Armand's indoor games. He was aware of them, and tacitly considered supporting his employer's activities a part of his job, but as a rule the outdoor staff stayed focused outdoors, and for most of them, it was a good idea. Charles shrugged, stepped up, glanced at Armand, and shoved a thick finger into Felicia's mouth, which she eagerly began to suck. Given the blinders, Charles nearly filled her visual field when she leaned back - which was preferable to being absorbed in watching Jason pulp her poor, distended belly. Armand chuckled. Charles had been impressively careful; another might have unlimbered his cock without specific permission. Armand waved his hand, "No, no, adjust her position for your comfort and take your pleasure from her throat, man! You should be rewarded for its construction, anyway!" Turning his attention to Consuela, he asked, "Do we have another robe for Charles?" "I can run and get one, Master!" she offered brightly. Armand smiled. He did not require the staff to call him Master - but several of them did. "Fine, run along and get him one - quickly! And bring back a vibrator - I didn't finish you properly, so I might as well play a bit..." Consuela smiled obsequiously and ran from the room. Jason was scratching notes on a pad, frowning. His unhappiness had little or nothing to do with the current activity; he knew that Armand was making a point with Charles, punishing him by making him share Felicia. But he took it in stride, handing the note to Armand and collecting a towel. "Void!" he instructed Felicia, lifting a cunningly devised contraption from beneath the seat and into a position where it was virtually certain to capture everything while allowing a view of the action. The moan she let out left no doubt as to her pain or her relief. Jason continued to knead, poke, and prod, distracting the poor redhead as she erupted into the pan at the base of the chair. As she stopped straining and collapsed in exhaustion, Consuela returned with a robe, which she handed to Charles, and returned to Armand's lap. Charles, who in the meantime had removed his shirt and undershirt, slid it on and proceeded to drop his trousers. As he stepped forward to adjust the backrest, Jason realized that his efforts to deny him by allowing Felicia her release were for naught; Armand was watching both of them intently, and his will in the matter was clear. Jason threw the towel on her stomach and walked away, irritated. Armand's punishment was effective; he was no longer interested in pleasuring himself with her. Charles unlimbered a chubby five and a half inch cock and delivered it to Felicia's lips, murmuring, "It's been a while, Honey - I'll probably be kinda quick..." Felicia, relief and gratitude writ large on her face, opened her mouth willingly, absorbing Charles' erection and reaching up to gather his hips, pulling him to her. Charles covered her breasts with his hands, enjoying the feel. Armand returned his attention to the video, observing Sharon's interview with the young couple. Nora's announcement that she planned to 'domesticate' Nate brought a belly laugh from Armand, and the nature of Nate's reaction was no more lost on him than it was on the two women. Armand missed none of the indicators, to include Nora's offhand quelling of Nate's profane outburst, or his stumbling, soul-bearing attempt at justification of their relationship. Jason, once again the perfect aide, offered, "According to Witherspoon's notes, young Mr. Adams is well known for his 'rap', a continuous pattern of comments designed to make him appear to be a ladies man - mostly sexist statements whose purpose was to land him women, but usually ended up alienating them - witness the altercation with his date that triggered the association with Nora." Jason showed his teeth. "Witherspoon's people on the scene indicate that Nora's first words to him were that if he expected the evening to go well, he should keep his mouth shut." Armand nodded, observing, "Amazingly, he appears to have totally bagged the affectation. What do we know of the EXACT circumstances of their being thrown together?" Jason perused the notes in the package and fished out a couple of photographs. "Shortly after his rather loud breakup with Miss Porter, this young woman followed her into the Ladies' Room." Jason displayed a picture of Dina, in her grey makeup, taken at the Prom. "Interesting looking young lady..." Armand hazarded. Jason nodded, "Her name is Nellis, Dina Nellis. A 'mover and shaker', apparently. According to Witherspoon's report, she and the couples with her virtually took control of the party, destabilizing the existing order and loosening things up quite a bit. By most accounts, she led the effort that turned the Prom into a real party, not just a function. Witherspoon's people weren't specifically targeted on either her or Miss Porter, however, so we don't know what transpired in the Ladies' Room - but we DO know that she and her date, one Bobby McCormick," Jason fished out another picture, this one of Bobby, "descended upon Nora and Mister Adams, almost immediately thereafter. The Nellis girl offered to set Nora up with Mr. Adams, and offered some advice in how to handle him..." He paused a moment; Charles was apparently losing his ability to enjoy himself in total silence... Armand glanced up, but said nothing. Charles' face was red and he was having trouble standing still; Felicia was working diligently. A slight smile crossed Armand's face. Jason cleared his throat, "It appears that the McCormick boy coached young Mr. Adams similarly." Armand nodded and restarted the video, listening with interest to the discussions of birth control, himself (he found that VERY interesting) and Nora's clear declaration that she intended to deal with whatever consequences were visited upon her. This last awakened a new respect for his daughter in Armand; perhaps she DID have a few of his genes, after all... "Phone!" he ordered. Consuela scrambled to get it. Armand found himself distracted; Charles let out an airy groan and arched himself over Felicia, whose throat began to work spastically. Armand watched as the older man held himself hunched over the redhead, apparently pouring copious quantities of seed down her throat. "Damn, that was good!" he gasped, patting her cheek. Consuela returned with a cordless extension and Armand rose to his feet; he tended to pace when he talked on the phone. While dialing, he addressed Jason, "Do we have a live feed?" Jason manipulated the video system controls and multiple views of the distaff Wilson residence appeared on the screen. Sharon and Nora were at breakfast; Jason enlarged that thumbnail to full screen. Sharon had just uttered, "I wonder when your father is going to call," when the phone rang (Armand was grinning on the far end at the timing) and a familiar voice announced, "I want to speak to my daughter." Sharon passed the phone wordlessly, but Nora knew who it was from the stricken look on her face, "Daddy?" "Good morning, Daughter!" Armand greeted pleasantly, "How was the Prom?" "I had a good time," Nora admitted cautiously. "And after?" Armand set the needle. "I'm guessing that you know," Nora retorted, archly. Armand was unperturbed, but he was enjoying the spirited display. "I'm aware of many of the particulars, but I'm asking for your personal opinion. How was Mr. Adams?" Nora took the phone from her ear for a moment; Armand could see the wheels turning. "Quite good, actually. When I contrast him against my other lovers, I'd have to give him an A minus, but..." Armand chuckled, but there was steel beneath. "I recommend that you have more lovers before making comparisons. Still, I felt that he did a surprisingly gentle job of parting you from your virginity." There was a moment's pause, then: "I recommend that until you can develop independent evidence otherwise, you assume that I am aware of everything that you are up to..." Nora took a chill at this, but bore up well. "I'll bear that in mind, Daddy. I'd always assumed from our limited contact that Mom was your primary target. In any case, since I must assume that you were somehow watching, you should know that I wasn't faking anything - Nate was quite enjoyable as a lover and I intend to enjoy him again, regularly!" Nora settled back in her dining room chair, proud of herself, awaiting the explosion. It didn't come. "Excellent!" Armand replied. "Based upon my initial assessment, I approve of young Mr. Adams, and I approve of your handling of him. Do as you will - at the very least, you will both obtain valuable experience; if you succeed in domesticating him, who knows?" A pause ensued while Armand enjoyed the look of surprise that flickered across Nora's face. "Daughter, I believe that I have underestimated you, assuming that you were nothing more than your mother's get. Sober reflection causes me to wonder if I underestimated her, too. With that in mind, I may from time to time offer you certain opportunities to obtain personal growth, success at which will lead to others. I may extend these opportunities to Mr. Adams as well, if it appears warranted." "What if I marry him?" Nora asked bluntly, still trying to force a reaction. "Irrelevant," Armand replied. "If you do, I want it to be for good reason, not to spite me - and for that reason, among others, I give you leave to do as you please in this matter without interference or prejudice. Some of life's lessons are best self-taught, and I am not a model of success at family relationships. Therefore, you will succeed or fail on your own at this task." Nora grimaced, "I guess I'm not going to be allowed to provoke a reaction..." Armand chuckled, "But you HAVE, Daughter! I am pleased with you! Keep trying - it is an opportunity for personal growth!" Another chuckle escaped him, then, "Pass the phone to your mother, child." Nora wordlessly passed the phone to Sharon, who took it gingerly. Having the advantage of being able to see her, Armand announced without preamble, "It appears that you may have periodically done something right, after all! While I will continue to investigate him, I have no issues with Nora's choice in male companions at this time. In fact, I'm highly pleased that she had the backbone to take on such a challenge!" He paused a moment, enjoying the play of expression on his ex-wife's features, then: "You will write her a note excusing her from school starting at," he glanced at Jason's notes, "10:00 a.m. Jorge will pick her up in my limo to take her to my staff gynecologist, who will examine her and prescribe methods of birth control. She is to telephone my office regarding future needs in this area - I will see to it that she gets the best. Are we clear?" "Yes, Armand," Sharon murmured tonelessly. "Nora's exercise in team calisthenics reminds me that your sexual horizons have been somewhat limited for some time. That doesn't seem fair to me... You DO appear to enjoy sex, still - even with me..." Armand smiled, watching Sharon's vain attempt to hide her reaction to his teasing "isn't that right?" It killed her to admit it, and she blushed crimson, but she uttered the only possible answer, "Yes." Armand pretended to be pensive, "Yet, I have no evidence that in between your visits to me you conduct any sexual activity at all - even playing with yourself! Why is that?" "I-I" Sharon stopped, unable to continue. How could she answer with Nora sitting right there? "Uh, because I don't!" "Why not? Surely you don't think I expect to approve your sexual partners?" Armand watched Sharon sit staring at Nora, fearful that she had divined the subject of the conversation. Sharon finally opened her mouth, but he forestalled her, smoothly, "Yes, you do - and you would be correct." The steel under the velvet in his voice was distinctly detectable. "Still, I don't think I'm doing you justice. How long has it been since our last encounter?" "Uhhh, two weeks," Sharon replied, voice beginning to shake. Where was he going with this? "Seventeen days is more like it," Armand corrected. "Did you enjoy it? Hmmm, probably not - as I remember it was just a blowjob, more for little Felicia's entertainment than anything else. Remind me to discuss Felicia with you next time - she's been a surprise, and I think you may have contributed to it." Armand turned and locked gazes with the redhead. Yes, the realization that there was no possibility of escape that Sharon's treatment had engendered had probably been pivotal... Actually, Sharon HAD enjoyed it - at least that part of her that reveled in Armand's abuse had... But she couldn't admit it, and that inability was one of the things about her that gave Armand pleasure - that and the fact that her face gave her away... Grinning, he continued, "Next time, we'll do anal - be ready. In fact, why don't you come around on Wednesday? We can discuss our offspring, before - or during..." Sharon was endlessly entertaining, he mused, as he watched her cringe and shudder with arousal simultaneously. Sharon DID enjoy anal sex - but was even less capable of admitting it. It was wrong, and dirty - and it was capable of generating powerful orgasms in her when Armand cared to do it right. Armand chuckled and set the next needle: "In the meantime, what can I do for you? Send you some toys? Jason, make a note. How about a nice black buck of your own to keep you in tune? Someone decorative, that you can take to bleeding heart charity functions, but with a nice long, fat cock to stick in your holes?" Armand's pleasure was more than evident as the woman's image on the video screen shaded toward the red. "But why be stingy? Maybe I should round up two or three, to visit you in rotation, or - dare I say it? - simultaneously?" Nora looked on, amazed, while her mother, beet red, clutched the phone in a white knuckle grip and shook. What was he saying to her? "I-I really don't need that, Armand," Sharon forced out. "Nonsense!" Armand disagreed, "At a minimum, you can expect the toys and some videos this afternoon, by courier. Use them, or I will send someone along to help you, understood?" "Yes, Armand," Sharon choked out. "And another thing," Armand pressed, "It is past time that you informed our daughter that our sexual relationship continues in force - I'll not have her holding your weak bones up for sainthood." "B-but...!" Sharon sputtered. "Do it, my Dear," Armand ordered, "or I will - and I'll show video footage to prove it!" "V-video?" Sharon was aghast. "Of course," Armand replied, unperturbed, "I'll tuck a couple in with the other videos in this afternoon's delivery." He paused a moment, enjoying the visual effects of this new revelation. Sharon was near apoplexy. With artificial gentleness, he continued, "I know this is a big step for you, so I'll give you a couple of days - but if you don't comply, I WILL show her, and then send her home to find you being checked for air- tightness by three big black bucks! Do you know what that means?" "N-noo..." Real fear gripped Sharon. Whatever it was, it couldn't be good - and she had a sinking feeling that it would be Armand's new favorite threat. And he ALWAYS followed through, eventually... Armand chuckled, "It means that each of them will be filling one of your available holes with cock! Now are we clear? Or do I start looking for candidates?" Sharon shook like a leaf; the threat was classic Armand - horrible, yet magnetically compelling. It would live in her dreams, good and bad, for the near future... "I understand," she choked out. "Good," Armand purred. "I'll see you Wednesday, then - at eleven, I think. Unless something else comes up... Remember to use the toys - but not on your ass, I want it nice and tight!" Armand hung up. Sharon followed suit, slowly. "My God, Mom, that looked awful! What on Earth did he say to you? It's not fair that he should abuse you like that over me..." Sharon smiled ruefully, "Don't fret over it, Hon, you were barely a subject of conversation." She sighed, then: "Your father knows all of my buttons, and he enjoys pushing them. I think he hit just about the whole keyboard, this time..." "What...?" Nora began, but Sharon continued, "Your father's limo will pick you up at school at ten tomorrow to take you to his gynecologist." "Is that wise?" Nora asked. "It will save him the trouble of breaking and entering at another doctor's office to obtain your medical records, then blackmailing the doctor to fill in the blanks," Sharon smiled thinly. "Besides, Armand hires the best - you need have no worries that the doctor is a quack. It's a win-win situation." "That wasn't it," Nora announced positively. "No, Hon, but the rest was aimed at me," Sharon replied, obviously intent on closing the subject. "Mom, I saw your face! WHAT DID HE SAY?" Nora wouldn't let it go... Sharon sighed. "Your father has decided that my sex life is inadequate." "Well, he's probably right," Nora offered, "since you're getting nothing at all..." Sharon colored. "That's not quite true, Hon..." "Mom?" The query was ominous. "You should know by now that your father never really lets anything or anyone go..." Sharon swallowed nervously. Nora blinked. "You and Daddy are still sleeping together?" Sharon could barely raise her eyes to her daughter's face. "I wouldn't call it anything that civilized, but - yes, we have sex, just about every time I go to see him." Several pieces of the puzzle fell into place for Nora. "Oh. That explains why you act so weird when you come home afterward. I figured he was just abusing you." "Well, it's all a part of it," Sharon amplified. "It's not really for fun, as much as it's him leaving a fresh mark on me." She paused a moment. "There will be a rather embarrassing package arriving by courier later today. Sex toys. And... videos. For me to entertain myself with." She squared her shoulders. "Some of the videos are of your father and I, apparently. They might be instructive. You need to know..." "...That he probably has fresh video of me and Nate?" Nora drew the inference. Somehow, she avoided being shocked. "Are these kinds of thing just tools to him, or does he enjoy it?" "A little of both, Hon," Sharon sighed, "Maybe we should be flattered - undoubtedly the surveillance he places on us is fantastically expensive. In his twisted way, I suppose he loves us." Armand, watching this conversation via the video cameras, blinked and sat back in his chair, suddenly sober. He reached out and switched off the feed. Jason watched him, sidelong. This was the closest he'd ever seen Armand to emotional vulnerability, and he didn't want to trigger the backlash. But it didn't happen. Armand snatched up the vibrator and turned it on, inviting Consuela to position herself on his lap with her legs spread so that he could use it to maximum effect. He glanced up at Jason, and grunted, "Call Witherspoon. I've an errand for one of his people." Jason nodded and turned to execute. <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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