Chapter 60
The New Order

Irma was emotional on the way home, apologizing and berating herself. Only one exchange really bothered Mary... "Mary, is Stick... hung like his father?"

"You saw it, didn't you?"

"I was busy being outraged, I'm afraid. It wasn't a good idea at the time," Irma replied.

"Well, he's a bit above average, but nothing like his father. I've seen white guys Stick's size."

"How on Earth do you compare him and Teddy? The poor boy..."

"Momma, Teddy is totally different -- that thing is so wide... Believe me, it's good, too!"

"Well, all right, Punkin, if you say so..."

Mary got her mother home and cleaned up, but she was still an emotional wreck, so she put her to bed. Her father didn't show up until almost six, which worried her, "Poppa, what took you so long?"

"Mrs. Williams came back and we had a whole new situation on our hands. It took a while to defuse that and handle the aftermath." Arthur smiled, "If your mother settles down, we may recover from getting off on the wrong foot with the Williams." 'And if she doesn't,' Arthur thought, 'Rose expressed some interest in seeing Irma pulling a train wearing a dog collar...' Rose had turned out to be a demanding fuck; Arthur had learned a few things -- among which was the fact that women aren't really that breakable. She'd made Thurnock watch while she gave Arthur a little bit of everything -- even anal -- but the only cum Arthur got was where it belonged -- in her pussy. That was something Thurnock hadn't done to Irma, but Rose more or less insisted, and nobody else was in a position to say no -- Thurnock because he was being punished, and Arthur because Rose wrapped her legs behind his ass and wouldn't let him withdraw! Arthur figured that years of taking an elephant dick like Thurnock's would make Rose sloppy, but she was fine and tight and Arthur had a great time! When it was over, Rose assured him that he had nothing to be ashamed of in the sex department; he'd apparently lasted longer than her husband usually did and offered a bit firmer ride. "Besides, being a bit more considerate of your partner is a good thing, sometimes," Rose had said, glaring at poor Thurnock. Thurnock ('Call me Pop') had winced at the criticisms, but, hey, Rose was punishing him wasn't she?

"Things don't look good for you and Momma right now," Mary ventured.

"Certainly, she has some explaining to do," Arthur agreed. "I'm not going to live as I have been, that's for sure! Still, maybe this incident put a dent in her behavior. We'll have to talk. Where is she?"

"In bed. She was still a little leaky, and Pop Williams was pretty rough on her physically, too!"

"That was all part of the treatment," Arthur replied. "Has she settled down about you and the boys -- or is she backsliding, already?"

"I think she's okay," Mary replied.

"Well, I probably need to consolidate things a bit," Arthur announced. "If you'll excuse me?"

"Take it easy, Poppa..."

"I don't think so," Arthur argued. "I think now is the time to see to it that she understands which end is up!"

"Well..." Mary wasn't thrilled, but this was beyond her control.

"The boys are at Frick's," Arthur added, over his shoulder. "If you're uncomfortable staying here, I'm sure they'd love to see you!"

Irma sat up in bed as Arthur entered the room. "Arthur," she moaned. Clearly, she was dreading the upcoming conversation.

"Did you enjoy your visit with the Williams?" Arthur grunted sarcastically. "I have to say that it was interesting seeing you on the receiving end, for a change! Unfortunately, you managed to publicly humiliate me in the process! Fortunately, I guess, I now have witnesses for the adultery charge... Perhaps you should tell me about Chase?"

Irma winced, for the fourth time since Arthur began speaking. "He said... he said he was going to fire you!"

"Obviously, you believed him..." Arthur replied scathingly. "I don't suppose that it has occurred to you that it is a bit odd that I now have his job?"

"Uuuhhh..." It hadn't. Irma had gotten into the habit of believing just about anything bad about Arthur -- and discounting anything good...

"Was this once, then?" Arthur asked.

"N-no," Irma replied. "He would come along a bit before payday and tell me all about how Mr. Sharp or Ms. Delaney was so much more qualified..."

"And then what would happen?"

"And then we'd have sex, and he would treat me more or less like Mr. Williams did -- not quite as bad, but along the same lines."

"When were you going to get around to telling me?" Arthur wanted to know.

"I don't know!" Irma wailed. "At first, it seemed like it should be a secret; later, I was pissed that I was carrying your poor dumb ass and you didn't even notice..."

Arthur shook his head in disgust, "... Largely because that wasn't what was happening. How long?"

Irma shrugged. "Two years?"

Arthur shook his head. "Chase used people; he did it at work, and he did it outside. He got fired because he tried to run his game on someone with backbone, and the whole thing unraveled. If you had said something to me, it would have happened sooner!"

"He was... very convincing..."

"He played to your poor opinion of ME -- so you swallowed it, hook, line and sinker! The comments you make! You're unbearably embarrassing at company functions! You gave him everything he needed to know to be able to use us both!" Arthur worked up to a full rant. "So, how many times, do you think?"

"Two dozen? Visits, not acts -- he always seemed to get in more than one... He would spend his time telling me how fat and skanky I was, how lousy my blowjobs were..." Arthur displayed anger at that, so she hurried on, "how he was doing me a favor by even bothering... I think I started gaining weight to make myself less desirable, not that it worked..."

Arthur shook his head. "I don't think Chase could get Grade A -- besides, it was something else he could use against you -- your poor self-image." He eyed her. "Why didn't you recover after he left?"

"He had me thoroughly convinced that you weren't worth it -- I'd been paying for you, covering your ass for two years... The fact that he was gone just meant that I didn't have to have sex to keep you in a job -- it didn't mean you were any more worthy." Irma sighed. "If anything, it took things out of my hands; the next time somebody realized you were worthless, I wouldn't be able to fix it."

"So I didn't rate sex..."

"ESPECIALLY not THAT!" Irma replied. "Although, now that I think about it, it might have been that I felt wrong about what I was doing..."

Arthur nodded. "Maybe, if you looked at things closely, YOU didn't deserve sex..." He shook his head. "I think we can add stupid and ungrateful and untrusting to your list of issues." Irma looked like she was thinking about bridling, so Arthur added another charge, "I noticed that you had no trouble cumming while being abused and humiliated. Is that the new game, then?"

"I, uhh," Irma stammered. THAT was embarrassing! She'd even managed to cum while having a cock -- a BIG cock -- jammed up her ass!

"I think," Arthur continued, "that you've reached the point of getting off hearing about what a worthless cum-dumpster you are -- which plays into my hands, actually. From now on, you can hear all about that from ME! From now on, you're going to EARN your keep around here! You're going to keep me happy -- because the alternative is to be on the street without alimony! If you want something beyond the household budget I assign to you, you'll get my permission -- and by God you'll EARN it! And if you piss me off, you'll get punished like the cunt you are -- maybe I WILL put you out on the street to see if the dogs will sniff your ass! What do you think of that?"

"Uuuuhhh, errrr..." He couldn't be SERIOUS, could he?

"Get over here! I see I'm going to have to prove that I'm serious! Get up, get out of that nightgown so I can see your skanky ass, and blow me!"

"Arthur!"

But he had a hand in her hair, and was rubbing her face against his crotch... "Get it out! Now! You'd better hope you can coax a hard-on out of me, if you plan on eating this week!" Arthur didn't bother to mention that he'd been ridden hard and put up wet since she blew him the first time that day...

Irma found herself tearing at Arthur's belt. God! The LAST thing she wanted was to be out on the street! While it occurred to her that she was being manipulated, who had more right than Arthur? Where was this new Arthur coming from, anyway? Probably, it was just anger; all she had to do was handle his immediate anger at her betrayals, and things would level out... That sufficed to get his cock into her mouth.

But Irma was operating from a certain lack of vision; Arthur had watched a master at work on her earlier in the day, and recent revelations had exposed her as nowhere near the opponent that he had always assumed she was. Having gotten beyond her bluster and discovered that her armor was about as permeable as Swiss cheese, Arthur was declaring the new order; Irma could comply or, frankly, be replaced. The weapons he had made that a viable threat, anyway, and Arthur had recently discovered that Irma was more vulnerable to threats than previously believed. That being the case, he resolved to push wherever possible; having allowed her to absorb his semi-erect cock, he let her bathe it in saliva for a bit before reaching over her back and swatting her on the ass, "I SAID get out of that nightie!"

"Ow!" Irma stopped to glare -- and Arthur took a handful of her hair and tilted her head back so she could get a better look. "Now would be good..."

Disconcerted, Irma lumbered up, grasping the hem of the nightie; Arthur let go of her hair so she could follow through. When it was off, he grunted, "I'd say you were pretty successful at making yourself unappetizing. Suck!" He pulled her back down to his crotch. Irma shrugged to herself and re-engaged his penis, and Arthur announced, "You have thirty days to drop twenty pounds of that big ass of yours -- after that, you'll eat what I say you can, and to punish you I'll fuck that big ass of yours every night until you're one big hemorrhoid or you've lost the weight, one or the other! Understand?"

"Urk!" Lose weight? Twenty pounds? What was this?

"How many times have you had anal sex?" Arthur demanded. Irma went to back off, but Arthur had her hair again, "You can show me fingers -- it hasn't been THAT many, has it?" Irma held up one finger. "Just Mr. Williams?" Irma managed a nod. "So much the better." He cupped the back of her head, driving her forward onto his erection. "From here on out, I don't take any shit from you! You can shape up and do as you're told, or you can hit the street. And you owe me, so I'll be collecting, starting with about four years worth of sex! Understand?"

"Ulp!"

"Chase was right -- you suck at blow jobs. I think I'll ask Teddy to give you lessons -- he already knows what a slut you are..." Yeah, things were going to change around the Nally household...

The Hansens and Louise were sitting up the block from her house -- in a different vehicle, for a couple of reasons. First, Donna wanted to see this for herself; second, it was probably better not to return in the pickup, since it would be recognized. Becky whistled. "Wow! She really DID dump your stuff on the porch!"

"Why is it that you two insist on assuming that either of us would lie about a thing like that?" Mark growled.

"Welcome to the doghouse, Dad," Dwayne muttered. "Becky can tell any fairy tale she wants..."

"Enough, you two!" Donna grated. Turning to Louise, she asked, "Do you want to try again?"

"Well..." No, she didn't, but... "I will if you think I should."

"I don't think you should!" Dwayne erupted.

"You're not a parent," Donna replied. "I think you ought to give it a shot -- she's had time to cool down." Dwayne and Mark passed a glance.

"Okay." Gamely, Louise exited the vehicle and headed up the walk to her home. This wasn't going to happen, but she knew that Dwayne's mother would only believe what she saw. If it supported Dwayne, it was worth it... Gathering herself, she knocked on the door, "Mother! I'm home! We should talk!"

"Talk! I'm THROUGH talking to you! You never listen, anyway!" The door flew open and Helene stuck her head out, "You had SEX with a BOY in MY HOUSE!!!"

"Mother, I had to meet a boy, someday!" Louise countered. "No boy has ever been good enough..."

"They're animals! ALL of them!" Helene screeched.

"What am I supposed to do, then, date girls?"

"Are you into THAT, TOO? Is there no end to the crimes against God you will commit? Where did you get that outfit? Sluts are Us?" Helene shook her head. "You're eighteen -- I'm done with you! Don't bother coming back to ME when you're barefoot and pregnant and have AIDS! Take your crap and LEAVE!!!" The door banged shut.

"Mother!" Louise tugged at the door, but it was locked. She tried her key, but the deadbolt was thrown, too. She hammered on the door, "Mother!"

A front window opened and a gun stuck out. "Go away! Stop bothering me, or I'll call the police! Take your garbage and LEAVE!" The window banged shut.

"Omigawd! Is that a gun?" Donna screeched.

"Sure looks like it..." Mark agreed. "I think we can guess how THAT went..." He put the car in gear and pulled up next door. Turning to Dwayne, he said, "I imagine she needs help..." Louise, crying, was collecting an armload of her things from the porch and yard; the promised cardboard box was nowhere in sight.

Turning to his sister, Dwayne said, "Keep an eye out, Mouth! I can trust you to yell if that gun shows up again..." Ignoring Becky's snort of outrage, he got out and went to help Louise.

"I knew it wasn't going to happen," Louise sniffled, "but your mother wanted to see..."

"It's okay, Honey. I appreciate it that you put yourself out like that. Let's get your stuff and go..." Dwayne's father popped the trunk, and they piled things in there. Again, there was nothing in the way of clothing; whatever bug that bit Helene on that subject was still in force. After they had collected everything that looked salvageable -- there were a lot of broken bits of this and that scattered about the yard from Helene's tantrum -- Dwayne and Louise re-entered the car.

"I've never seen anything like that in my life!" Donna exclaimed as Mark pulled the car out and headed it toward home. "Do you two fight all of the time, or something?"

"No," Louise sniffled. "Mother is just extremely strict. I do what she tells me..."

"... But you didn't in this case, did you?" Donna prompted.

"No. If I did what Mother said in this matter, I would never even MEET a boy, never mind DATE one! I've never been to a dance, or a party -- even the movies with friends until a few days ago! You've seen what I wear!"

"She's right, Mom! Her stuff is godawful, and she has NO social life at all!" Becky interjected.

Dwayne, seeing where things were headed, interjected, "Louise, is, well, a bit of a mouse. She does what she's told, basically all the time -- I ran into it early on. You'll notice it real quick..."

"So did you tell her to...?" Donna pounced.

Dwayne colored. "We had a special case for that."

"I bet you did!"

"No, he's right!" Louise came to Dwayne's rescue. "Dwayne was very clear about it -- he didn't want me to ever look back on our first time and think about how I was pushed into it. I had to ask -- and I had to be very clear!"

"You didn't push her?" Donna probed.

"No Ma'am!" It was a chorus.

"Dear, why would you want to rush right out and have sex with Dwayne?" Donna inquired gently.

Louise looked puzzled. "Why would I NOT want to? Dwayne is wonderful!"

"You don't have to give a boy sex to hold onto him..." Donna chided.

"Okay..." Louise continued to look at Dwayne's mother as if she was dense.

"You don't agree?" Donna asked.

"Sure," Louise replied. "But I WANTED to have sex. And I WANTED to have sex with Dwayne!"

"EWWW!" Becky interrupted.

Louise turned to Dwayne, "Is there something wrong with you that you haven't told me about, Sweetheart?"

"What? No..."

"Then why do they act like you have some disease, or something?"

"Umm, Mom pretty much figures I've suddenly become this fanged vampire thing that molests every girl in sight. Becky -- Becky's just doing the little sister thing," Dwayne replied, grinning slowly.

Louise turned to Donna, "Don't you have sex with your husband?"

"Well, yes, but we're married!"

"Didn't you have sex before you got married?"

"Maybe we should change the subject," Donna pressed, exasperated.

"Well, this thing keeps popping up," Louise argued, "and it's WRONG! I want a relationship -- a FULL relationship -- with Dwayne. I want it ALL! Sex surfaced as soon as I realized how wonderful he is! He's had ample opportunity to make like a wolf, and he showed a lot of restraint."

Donna snorted. "Restraint! You've been dating -- what -- three days?"

Louise shook her head. "You don't get it! I'm... not very independent, and not very strong... If Dwayne had insisted, we'd have had sex Friday night!"

"What!?" Donna was nonplussed.

"I went to a lot of trouble to put myself out there for him to find -- and I was scared to death! Dwayne could have rolled right over me -- but he didn't." Louse put her hand to her boyfriend's cheek. "Last night would have been even easier -- but instead he told me that he wasn't going to push and that if and when, I had to be clear. So this morning, I was clear. VERY clear."

Mark, in the front seat, rolled his eyes, "How clear were you?"

"I got naked in the middle of the living room and asked him pretty please! All right?" Louise asked, exasperated.

"Jeezus! Really?" Becky wanted to know.

"Really! Now leave him alone!" Louise ranted.

"Well, I never..."

"You would if you loved him!" Louise retorted hotly. Then her eyes popped and she covered her mouth. "I mean..."

Donna frowned. "It's a bit early for that, isn't it?"

"Yes," Louise turned her head. "I... misspoke. I was talking kind of generally..."

Donna eyed her for a moment, then turned back around to the front without saying anything. Becky was snorting, trying to contain laughter. Dwayne murmured, "Thanks..."

"I'm sorry! I was trying to help!" Louise whined.

"I know you were, Honey. But it'll take a bomb or something to get them to lay off..." He rubbed her shoulder. "Don't worry about it." He eyed her, "What about the other thing?"

"I got carried away," Louise replied, poker-faced. The LAST thing she needed was to scare him off with wild love noises! Dwayne eyed her dubiously, and she continued, "That's my story, and I'm sticking to it!"

Dwayne glanced around, got the all-clear, and leaned in to kiss her. Louise took it on the lips and let them flower open, going for a real kiss, not just a peck.

Becky, of course, detected it within seconds -- and was disgusted. "EWWWW! Get a room!"

Dwayne broke it off, but he didn't go far. As Louise turned her head back to the front, his breath warmed her ear, "Liar."

"Yes." She blushed hotly while his hand squeezed hers.

"Awright!" Roland grunted. "Le's get this thing cleaned up -- I'm gonna go tell DiAngelo he's got another winnah..." They were back at the loading dock at the Wilson warehouse, the run completed. "How ya wanna handle the other bullshit?" he asked Nate.

"We can tell DiAngelo -- but I'll pass the details to my connection. Boss should know what's goin' on, though."

"Awright. Back in a bit." Roland wandered off while Nate and Draper got into rain gear and washed the truck.

In a few minutes, he was back. "Awright, DiAngelo says drag your shit around tomorrow an' he'l put ya on the payroll for part-time, Draper. I wouldn't do it now; Stella ain't worth a shit with cum rollin' down her leg -- shit she's bad enough when she's concentratin'!" Roland chuckled and turned to Nate. "Y'all told him 'bout Stella, right?"

"Yeh." Everybody chuckled.

"I told DiAngelo you guys got some idea what the fuck is goin' on wit' the stockin' an' he'll wait ta hear somethin'. Cool?"

"Cool." Nate nodded.

"Awright. Later, then." Roland wandered off.

Nate and Draper cleaned up, Nate clocked out, and they headed for the car. Once they were on their way, Draper asked, "What's Nora's old man gonna do 'bout this?"

Nate shrugged. "Can't even guess -- but it'll be sneaky..."

"Yeh, I bet."

Twenty minutes later, Draper was home and Nate was pulling into the drive at the mansion. Jorge took the car, something that never failed to give Nate a chuckle -- it was a total waste of garage space. Nora was waiting inside the door; one kiss and he backed off, though, which surprised her. "Your Daddy around? Or that Jason guy?"

"Both, I think. Why?" Nora asked, surprised.

"Saw something today he's gonna want to know about." Nate pulled his notes out of his pocket.

"Okay..." Nora was puzzled, but if Nate thought it was important...

Ten minutes later, they were all in the study. Armand was poring over Nate's list of characters. He called Witherspoon. "I've got a list of names -- drug dealers, small-time ones. I need to know if they're Rodday's people."

"Okay. Want to fax it?" Two minutes later, Witherspoon came back, "No connections we're aware of."

"Get me Rodday's office number." Witherspoon did so, and Armand made another call...

Rodday wasn't in a good mood. Half his lieutenants had something or the other broken, and the other half were spooked. Several of the girls were acting up, too. "Yeah!"

"Armand Wilson, here."

Rodday stifled the urge to hang up. "What now? I'm not bothering you..." '...for now...'

"I have a peace offering, of sorts. Care to listen?"

Rodday counted to ten. "All right."

"Okay. In the first place, Flood's manhood is in one piece. I was going to get around to telling you that, anyway -- we just faked it. The other, more important item concerns your other business -- the one I don't approve of."

"I'm listening..."

"Do you know these people?" Armand rattled off a half-dozen names.

"Yeah."

"They buy from you?"

"No."

"Do you know who their supplier is?"

"No."

"I do."

"So?"

"I can let you cut them off, and maybe make a profit out of the deal -- or I can let the cops do it." Armand offered.

"I’m guessing that you like the supplier less than me." Rodday murmured.

"Something like that," Armand agreed. "You aren't in competition with me -- he is. I'm willing to let bygones be bygones; if you hijack one or two of his shipments, I don't think he's got the wherewithal to do anything about it. Since he's theoretically legitimate, he can't squeal too loudly; he'll probably quietly drop out of the business, leaving you with more customers."

"Why not do the cops?" Rodday asked.

"There are people in his supply chain I'd prefer not to see get caught. If he runs into trouble, they'll jump ship -- but if the police are involved, they'll get smeared, which will be ugly. I just want the thing to fall apart." Armand replied.

"What if he starts some shit?"

"I will lend you resources," Armand replied. "I'll see to it that he gets cut off close to home."

"Sounds like a plan. What am I looking for?"

"A meat packing truck," Armand replied. "Some of the contents will be meat, but a significant part of the load will be pharmaceuticals. The driver knows the difference -- but it would add insult to injury if your people tore up the whole load, looking..."

"Sounds simple enough," Rodday grunted. "Good damned thing -- I ain't got much in the way of manpower right now."

"Regrettable," Armand replied, "but you weren't responding to other forms of persuasion. Perhaps I could offer you a couple of professionals up front? I think we have about a week..."

"Awright. About Tabitha..." Rodday pressed.

"Ms. Adams will be setting up her more lavish business as discussed. I'd like to see an attitude of cooperation fostered there," Armand replied. "You will maintain the streetwalker franchise; she will work a series of upscale shops with more in the way of services and physical plant. You will be king of your domain, and she will be queen of hers. Is that a problem?"

"Nah, guess not. Where's she gonna get girls?" Rodday asked.

"Many of yours would be... unacceptable, due to their personal history and their involvement with your other business," Armand replied smoothly. "She will probably be recruiting elsewhere, unless you have some cast-offs that meet her standard..." Armand replied.

"I'll let her know," Rodday replied. "I'm plugged into some out-of-town supplies. Maybe there's a finder's fee?"

"Perhaps." Armand agreed. "Rodday..."

"Yeah?"

"If she is unduly hassled and I find out that you are pulling the strings..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah..."

"I'll be in touch."

Rodday hung up the phone. "Smug bastard! Get Flood in here! Tell him he still has his balls! I need to talk to him about a job!"

Nate murmured, "Do you trust him?"

Armand shook his head. "No. But we have him under surveillance. I'll know if he starts something." He smiled. "This was excellent work, Nate! It will benefit all of us! I will not forget this!" He sat forward, "I assume that Draper made the payroll..."

"Yes, Sir."

"He'll receive a nice little 'signing bonus' with his first paycheck, then, for his part in this. Is there anyone else who should benefit?"

"Well, Roland, the driver, listened to us and altered his route so we could watch the whole thing go down. A buck or two wouldn't hurt him..."

Armand eyed Nate. "In his paycheck? Or cash?"

"He gets it all if it's cash, right?" Nate replied warily.

"So he does, so he does," Armand smiled. "When do you go back?"

"Tuesday."

"See Jason before you go. He will disburse some funds for you to deliver. I was thinking something on the order of five hundred..."

Nate nodded, "Sounds good."

"As for you..."

"I owe ya," Nate stated flatly.

Armand nodded. "True. But this goes above and beyond. There will be some form of compensation, perhaps based upon the benefit we derive directly. You have proven yourself to be highly resourceful, Nate -- other opportunities will come along." Armand looked at his watch, "I think they're holding dinner in the kitchen..."

"Thank you, Sir." Nate backed out of the room, past a glowing Nora.

Armand nodded at his daughter, smiling, and Nora followed Nate out. When they were out of sight, Armand turned to Jason, "A car, I think. Nothing too ostentatious, but something they can be seen in in both his neighborhood and ours..."

"Insurance?" Jason queried. Nate's rattletrap probably cost more than it was worth in insurance, since he was under 25. A more expensive vehicle meant more insurance...

"It will be a company vehicle," Armand replied. "Insure it as such. It appears that the driver on these drug runs handles large quantities of cash -- since we're going to be providing manpower for the first raid, see that they confiscate it and that we retain a portion adequate to support the transaction."

"Sir." Jason smiled his Death's Head grin.

Leticia, finally released from her punishment, was basically hiding in her quarters. The last couple of days had been fairly traumatic; peace and quiet and a bit of relaxation were in order. Maybe she would go down and soak for a bit in one of the hot tubs... She smiled, remembering that Boris called them the baths...

Putting on her bikini was out; the slit in the panty for the tail was too much of a reminder of recent tortures. Leticia slipped into a white one-piece -- with any luck, she would be alone and could go without. Towels were downstairs, too; she let herself out of her room and padded off toward the sunroom.

All was quiet when she arrived. She pulled the cover off the first tub, started it bubbling, and headed for the showers, where she pulled off the bathing suit, wet herself down, grabbed a couple of towels and returned to the sunroom. Settling into the tub, she sensed a change, but couldn't put her finger on it. Well, she was in no danger... She relaxed, closing her eyes, and let herself drift.

"Is good, nyet?" a VERY familiar voice sounded behind her.

Leticia jumped about a foot, "Oh!"

"Sorry." It wasn't clear whether Boris was really sorry or not; now that she thought about it, she figured that he probably wasn't. After all, this had been one of his little solitary pleasures... Boris circled around before her -- predictably naked -- and looked in the tub. "I can open another."

"That would be a waste." Leticia waved an arm and the big bear settled in across from her, making a production out of settling himself and making himself comfortable.

"Is perhaps better not to be alone. Safer," he observed warily.

"Yes..." Leticia left it at that.

Silence reigned until the timer clicked off, stopping the jets. Boris looked up, "You will do sauna?"

"Should I?"

"Da. Cleans the pores. Then shower, then another soak in bath," Boris affirmed.

"All right." Boris rose and exited the tub, then put out a hand to steady Leticia as she made her exit. Curiously weakened by the soak, she found herself grateful for it. Boris led her to the sauna, where he placed his towel on the seat and settled himself, again naked. Leticia thought about it for a moment, decided that he'd seen her before, and duplicated the action.

Again, silence reigned; Boris got up once to pour water on the heater, but otherwise, his only comment came as he was rising to leave. "Heh, you look good sweaty." She did, too, her skin glistening with the moisture. Not having a response, Leticia merely smiled.

Boris beat her back to the tub, silently watching as she padded back across the floor from the shower room, dripping. Neither of them had taken a lot of time in the showers, but Boris was an old hand at the procedure. It wasn't lost on Leticia that Boris had taken a seat that gave him ample opportunity to watch her approach; was it lust, or mere wariness? With Boris, it could go either way... This time, she settled across from him, instead of vice-versa. "We go shorter, this time," he announced. "Less endurance."

Silence again. Leticia relaxed, but watched him. Boris didn't move. He seemed to be... Waiting! THAT's what he was doing! The insufferable bastard was waiting for her to make some overture... What kind of an idiot did he take her for, anyway? "What are you doing?"

"Eh? Resting."

"Waiting, more likely. Do you think if you just sit there long enough I'm going to fall into your arms or something?"

"Eh, perhaps not," Boris muttered nonchalantly.

Leticia became infuriated, "I'm not your slave!"

"Not today."

"Not ever again!"

"Perhaps." Boris eyed her. "It is a matter of what you want -- and what you will do about it. You will decide this."

"You're damn right I will!" Leticia stormed up -- and collapsed into the tub with a splash.

Burly arms collected her and raised her head above water. "Parts of you are relaxed," Boris chuckled. "The spirit is fiery, but the flesh..." Leticia started scrabbling around furiously, and Boris reminded her of his superior strength by shaking her until her teeth rattled. "Stop being a fool! Move slowly. Get your feet under you. Get your balance!" He held her up until she did as she was told. "Now, slowly go to the edge and climb out. Things will be worse on the outside for a moment; take your time."

Boris was right; Leticia barely had the energy to stand outside the tub. Leaning there, wasted, she nonetheless pressed the attack, "What do you expect me to do, anyway? Come to you and abase myself? For what?"

Boris shrugged. "You know what you want. You know what you will do to get it. If you want it badly enough, you will do what you must. If you don't..." He eyed her for a moment. "It is not up to me. I am not the only source of that which you desire. But I am a PROVEN source of ALL that you seek -- this you know!"

"You're insane!"

Boris spread his palms. "I have asked for nothing! This is YOUR problem! I but sit here!"

"Well you can STAY there!" Leticia staggered off.

Boris shook his head. Women. Negresses -- black women -- in particular! It was not for him to come begging to her to spread her skinny legs for him to plant his seed between -- that was not their roles! The planting was not enough; it was not ALL that she wanted! No, she wanted to be mastered, and one did not master her from a position of weakness. Therefore, he would wait -- she would come... He hauled himself out of the tub and covered it, then shambled off to his shower. This time you did a good job -- got clean...

Leticia was standing under her shower, crying. Damn him! He just sat there, like Budda, waiting for her to -- what? Ask him to fuck her? That was the least of it; besides, the last couple of days had seen more sex than the previous year. No, it was something darker, deeper -- and she knew what it was, but couldn't put words to it. Boris's wild idea to grow her breasts by making her pregnant was close enough to bother her -- it was doing the right thing for the wrong reasons...

If Mr. Wilson had capitalized on the feelings and desires he'd awakened in her, she wouldn't be in these straits -- but he hadn't been interested, except peripherally. Boris got it right; Mr. Wilson had too many women available to him, and she wasn't a favorite -- but there WERE other men -- even in-house! Jason... No. She shuddered to think of it; how Inez put up with him was beyond her. Charles... He seemed to treat the Wench well, but there was something cold and distant there. Phillippe? She could get sex from Phillippe, but the other things -- things she couldn't seem to name -- he didn't seem to be able to provide. Ed? Ed had Velma, apparently -- and being cantankerous wasn't on her list of requirements. Jorge? What a joke! In the first place, he was Puerto Rican or some damned thing -- and in the second, he was the next thing to queer! That was it, in house... Nate didn't count -- too young, too in love with Nora, and -- mostly -- too black... THAT prejudice hadn't gone anywhere; in some ways, it had been reinforced! But it had been brought home to her that she was in no way Nate's superior.

And that brought her back to Boris. Boris, who could apparently take her or leave her -- and who could discuss her faults quite dispassionately, (why was that a good thing?) Boris, who took to commanding her like it was the most natural thing in the world. Boris, whose 'go to Hell' sexual style set her off in ways she couldn't EVEN remember getting elsewhere. Boris, who had said, "Maybe I will breed you, if you ask nice." Damn him! He seemed to know ALL about her -- and could push ALL of her buttons, effortlessly!

So what was the problem? Well, THAT was the problem, oddly enough -- the fact that Boris seemed to have all of her keys! If she went to him, he would take everything -- he'd settle for nothing less -- and her days as an independent woman would be over! Of course, part of the problem was that it wasn't clear to her why being independent was preferable... Was it fear? Inertia? It was instinctive, whatever it was. No doubt she would be waddling around with a basketball-sized tummy in six months, too -- again, something she wanted, but paradoxically didn't want. It had to be RIGHT -- she couldn't give up her freedom to be abused all the time! But Boris didn't strike her as the torturing type, either -- he might punish her, but he would also protect her. Maybe she could negotiate SOME kind of guarantees...

... And that brought her back to a picture of Boris, cautiously out-waiting her. He KNEW, damn him! Did she have ANY defense from him? Not at this point. Maybe if she could survive the weekend for a few days -- but thinking about it was like watching her life slip away. Time would pass, she'd get stubborn, or stupid, or both -- and the whole thing would fade away, leaving... nothing. Nothing at all.

That glimpse at a barren future fed her resolve; she would try to get some guarantees, but would make the attempt, rather than fritter it away. Shutting off the water, she reached for a towel. Things weren't silent; Boris was still around, apparently, singing some gruff song in his gravelly voice -- still in the shower, apparently. No need to get dry, then... Carrying the towel, she headed for the men's showers.

Boris had moved on, mentally -- he was lustily singing an old Georgian drinking song about the vagaries of women. Nothing would happen tonight -- if ever; the little negress -- okay, black -- bitch was displaying the signature temper common to black women. She would come around, or she wouldn't -- what would be, would be...

"Boris?"

Boris turned. She was back. "No soap?"

"No, I'm done."

"You're wet."

"Yes."

Boris quit goofing off and started rinsing. "Shouldn't you dry off?"

"I figured I might just get wet again."

He kept an eye on her, poker-faced, while he rinsed. "You should dry yourself. I am done."

"Okay." She busied herself with the towel; God knew it was easier than what was coming...

Boris shut off the water and reached for his own towel. There was a temptation to open the conversation, but he knew better than to give in to it. He made a production of drying himself while he waited her out.

Finally, it became apparent that she was going to lose again. "We need to talk," Leticia blurted.

"Okay," Boris replied impassively. "Here? Somewhere else?"

"Somewhere else."

"You wore something here?"

"A bathing suit. I'll go get it."

"Okay." Boris tucked his towel around his waist in his usual manner; when Leticia met him in the sunroom, she was wearing hers similarly, leaving her breasts uncovered. Perhaps tonight WAS the night... "Where?"

"Your rooms? Mine?"

"Yours. You will be more comfortable. You do not look comfortable right now, eh?" Boris observed.

"Okay." The pair headed back to the servant wing in silence, Leticia leading. The hallway turned out to be a minefield -- or at least an ambush site -- Phillippe's door was open, and he was sitting in his doorway, leaning on a reversed kitchen chair. Leticia staggered, breaking step, and glanced at Boris as he drew even -- but she didn't cover her breasts; Boris slid a hand down her forearm and she took the cue.

"What are you doing?" Boris challenged Phillippe.

Phillippe shrugged, ogling Leticia's exposed breasts. "This is more entertaining than TV. I WAS waiting to see who's room Ed was sleeping in tonight..."

Boris grunted. "Why do you care where Ed sleeps? Velma interests you?"

"No. Nowhere near the way Leticia does," Phillippe grinned evilly.

"I had not noticed you taking an interest in either one," Boris replied.

"Well, that was before..."

"Before what?"

"Before they started sleeping around, in-house."

"Ah." Boris turned this one over in his head. "Both of them have slept with the Boss..."

"That doesn't count."

"You like negr-- black womans?" Boris queried. "I have never seen you with one..."

"I like women," Phillippe replied, continuing to eye Leticia as if she were a piece of meat.

"Womans have to like YOU!" Boris pointed out.

"Maybe. Is that how you got Leticia?"

Boris passed on several comments that might cause issues with Leticia, and settled on, "The Boss does as he chooses in these things. Leticia's punishment is over. Velma was not being punished, but I think she was not happy. Besides, you are already doing well finding womans, no?"

"Not THAT well. So where are you two going? And where have you been?" Phillippe asked.

"We were in the baths," Boris replied. "We arrived separately."

"Right." Phillippe's disbelief was evident.

"It's true!" Leticia insisted. "I got there first! Besides, I was being punished before! Why would I..." The problem with this line of reasoning became evident before she finished it.

"I'm sure," Phillippe sneered. "So, where are you going?"

"My room," Leticia replied. "We're going to discuss... recent events."

"Can I go along?" Phillippe asked, rising from the chair.

"No!" Both Boris and Leticia replied simultaneously. Boris added, "The Boss does not owe you entertainment. Womans in this house do not, either. If you want to start having sex with womans in this house, maybe you should start by being nice to them."

"Women in this house don't get off on people being nice to them!" Phillippe replied. "Generally, they have sex because the Boss says to -- ain't that right, Leticia?"

"Sometimes," Leticia allowed. "Not always."

Boris shrugged. "So. You be nice -- or you wait for Boss. Better you go out, I think. Come." He tugged Leticia's arm gently.

"Right -- like you two aren't going off to fuck," Phillippe scoffed.

Boris wheeled on him. "This is... not certain. But it is also not your business."

"Well, if you are, why can't I have some?" Phillippe whined.

Boris ticked off the reasons on his fingers, "You are not nice to Leticia. She is not being punished. Boss has not said you can." He eyed Phillippe for a moment. "You should stop now. This is not a good thing. I think you have wrong idea; if you bother womans in this house without permission from woman or from the Boss, you will pay for it."

"Yeah, yeah." Phillippe looked pissed -- but he sat back down and looked away. Boris nodded Leticia on up the hall.

In a moment, they entered Leticia's rooms. Leticia, taking stock, found that she was shaking. "That was bad!"

Boris was scowling fiercely. "Phillippe goes too far -- or he will soon. I will speak to Charles, Mr. Jason, Miz Sharon, and the Boss. He must be watched."

"I think so, too," Leticia shuddered. Phillippe had been talking rape -- or gang-bang, at least. Granted, the rules got bent around here, and the women of the house accepted certain behaviors from certain of the males -- but Phillippe was on no one's short list. Apparently, that was the problem...

"If he bothers you..." The look on Boris's face said it all. "You will tell me."

"Yes..." Time to move on. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Da." Boris eyed her sidelong. "Vodka?"

Leticia shook her head, "Sorry."

"Tea? Hot?"

"Okay." Leticia busied herself in her tiny kitchenette, starting a kettle while silence reigned. Finally, turning to him, she asked, "Why don't you say anything?"

Boris shrugged. "I wait. You want to talk."

"It's... hard." Leticia watched the kettle.

"Yes."

She looked up at him, scowling. "I am a free woman!"

"Yes." Arguably, she was not; the Boss held her leash. But if she wanted to pretend...

"Why do you make this so hard?"

"You must take these steps. You have said it -- you are free woman. Only you can change this." He looked about, "You have milk?"

"Yes." Leticia went to her small refrigerator and extracted a carton, smelled it, and returned with it to the counter. Gathering herself, she turned to him, "I wish to negotiate the terms of my surrender."

"Negotiate?" Boris's eyebrows shot up. "What is to negotiate?"

"One or two small things..." Leticia started fiddling with the box of tea bags. "We should both be clear about what we expect. Why don't you tell me what you expect?"

Boris frowned. "First, Boss must approve -- otherwise, not possible. You will be mine -- daytime, nighttime -- all the same. Sex, iron shirts, cook -- everything. I am Boss; you do as I say or be punished. Punishment is whatever I decide. You grow real tits -- get padding for hips -- have babies, nyet?" He grinned. "Little brown babies not problem, eh?"

"No," Leticia agreed. "This is all?"

"I missed something?" Boris replied. "I want EVERYTHING! Is clear?"

"Yes," Leticia nodded. Turning, she popped tea bags into two cups and poured water over them. "Now, may I present my expectations?"

Boris eyed her warily, but waved a hand. Leticia handed him his cup, laid out spoons and sugar next to the milk. "I want to be protected -- treated at least as well as valuable property. I should not have to worry about Phillippe, for instance."

Boris took a moment, pouring milk and squeezing out the tea bag. "What if I do like Boss? Lend you to Phillippe?"

"That is different than Phillippe molesting me," Leticia replied.

"Da." Boris nodded agreement. "You will be used, like tool -- not misused. But I say what is use and what is misuse -- and punishment is special case." He sipped tea. "Agreed?"

"Yes." Leticia nodded.

"Phillippe can use his OWN tools..." Boris growled. "That is all?"

"Ummm, not quite." Leticia steeled herself, then unleashed the torpedo. "About the little brown babies..."

"Yes?"

"I must have them," she insisted. "If we cannot have children, you must release me."

Boris blinked. Upon reflection, this made sense, however -- if he could not father children by her, she would lose respect for him -- that was a given. "Da. How long?"

"One year?" Leticia offered. "Longer, if we go for fertility work, or until a problem is found?"

"Da. Is fair." If he couldn't father a child by her in a year, they would have issues. "You are on birth control?"

"Yes."

"Ninety days for it to flush out. Before year starts."

"Done." She smiled.

"Is all?"

"Almost." She stood watching him.

Boris smelled the trap. "I am waiting."

"My babies... must be legitimate."

"Legi-- WHAT?! You want to be married? You want to marry Boris?" Boris's eyebrows merged with his hairline.

Leticia smiled at the way Boris said 'married'; it came out 'marri-ed'. "Yes. When I am pregnant the first time, I want us to be marri-ed. The children must be legitimate -- otherwise, why bother?"

Boris was examining this from every available angle. "To be wife -- this does not change..."

"No, it doesn't. I will still be what we have talked about to you. There will just be an additional legal dimension." She sipped her tea. "We won't do this until there IS a child -- although I'd like to be married before I show too much."

"If you -- how you say -- miscarry?"

"Well, we would try again..." Leticia gathered herself. "If something happened and I could not bear children, we could divorce." The whole concept left her feeling seriously solemn; divorce would be the least of the blows she would absorb, in that case...

Boris knew this, too -- instinctively. "If is my fault, you are free. If is YOUR fault, you are NOT free -- I think maybe it is better that way, no? You will need things..."

"Okay," she said quietly.

"Okay. Children come, we get married." Boris eyed her. "NOW is all?"

"Yes," Leticia nodded, smiling tremulously, "Is all."

"Do not make fun of Boris," he chided. "English is YOUR first language!"

"Yes, Boris."

"Come here, Little One," He pulled her against him. "Skinny thing." He pushed her back to arms length, having had a thought. "We make agreement? Contract?"

"I trust you."

Boris rubbed his razor stubble. "Married is contract, no?"

"Yes," Leticia agreed. "At that point, maybe we should do a pre-nuptial agreement -- for your protection."

"Da." Boris took a breath. It was too early to get worked up... "Put on clothes -- time to see the Boss."

"All right." Leticia headed for her bedroom. "You, too? I will come to your rooms..."

"Yes. Come to my rooms." Boris slugged back the dregs of his tea, put down the cup, and shuffled out, his mind completely occupied with the turn of events. Married? What would his mother say? His father? His brother? The negress thing was best downplayed -- or maybe not...

"No pussy tonight?" Phillippe chuckled as he passed.

"Eh?" Boris shook his head. "You have no idea." He continued on; worrying about Phillippe was a waste of his resources at this point.

Armand was just settling in for a little recreational surveillance when his intercom lit up. "Boss?"

"Boris?"

"Yes. I -- We -- have urgent matter to discuss."

Armand's eyebrows went up. This place was turning into a three-ring circus... "I'm in my study."

Fifteen minutes later, they were gathered. Leticia had blown by Phillippe as though he wasn't there, fully dressed -- then the pair, both dressed, had ignored him again on the outbound leg -- leaving him extremely curious. He followed, at a distance...

Armand sat back at his desk. "Boris. Leticia. You have an urgent matter?"

"I wish to own Leticia," Boris blurted.

Armand steepled his fingers and swung his attention to Leticia. "And your position in this matter?"

"We... have an agreement."

"Ah. Provisional ownership." Armand sighed. "Boris, you are no doubt aware that you cannot REALLY own her -- well, you could, perhaps, but it would be illegal. That makes Leticia a volunteer."

"Da. The law..." Boris waved dismissal.

"All right," Armand turned to Leticia. "Under what conditions are you volunteering for slavery?"

"I give him what he wants -- but I get children. Legitimate children."

Armand blinked, turning this over. "That's marriage, not slavery. Arguably, it's slavery of a different nature -- and for a different person."

"Da." Boris saw the humor in it. "Not until she is with child."

"And if she is capable of misconception?"

"Excuse?" Boris blinked.

"Sorry, word games. If she doesn't conceive?"

"No marriage. If is my fault, I release her. If is hers, I do not," Boris replied succinctly.

"I suppose that you have agreed upon a time frame?" Armand asked archly.

"Fifteen months," Leticia replied. "One year, plus three months for the Pill to get out of my system."

"Okay, so, why are you here?" Armand asked.

"You must approve," Boris replied, shrugging.

"Ah. Who decided that?"

"It was... agreed," Leticia said carefully, looking somewhat let down.

Armand nodded, realizing that they needed the validation that only he could offer, here. "Good. You're right. She continues to have duties for me."

"Da."

"She also continues to be subject to my... other requirements. But you are responsible for her performance and behavior. Understood?"

"Da." Boris was clear about this -- and it made sense. Besides, how often did the Boss use her before? No big loss...

"Yes." Leticia nodded, looking happier. For a moment, there, it appeared that Armand didn't care AT ALL...

"Da."

"Anything else?"

"No..." Leticia couldn't think of anything.

"I wouldn't bless this thing if it wasn't already working so well -- bad precedent," Armand pointed out. "On the other hand, Jason has pushed me somewhat into a corner. There will be implications... Quarters?"

Boris looked at his new woman; 'slave' wasn't quite his term for her. Leticia could see the 'two can live as cheaply as one' thought process running through his head -- and realized that it was flawed. "Well, Boris is down in the bachelor's quarters... And we won't need one right away, but later we'll need another bedroom..."

"Exactly." Armand nodded. "Talk to Sharon; the servant wing is going to need an extensive remodel. I'm not unaware that Ed and Velma are... dating. We may need to shuffle things around quite a bit." He shook his head, "Who turned the love bug loose in here? Nora?"

Leticia opened her mouth, but her eyes widened and she shut it with a clop. "What?" Armand asked.

""I was about to say that our situation isn't related..." Leticia murmured.

Armand chuckled. "But it is, more or less directly, isn't it?"

"Da," Boris chuckled, then frowned. "Boss? There is another problem."

"Oh?" Armand asked, surprised.

"Phillippe. He... misunderstands."

Armand frowned. "What do you mean?"

Leticia flicked a glance at Boris, getting verbal permission, then took up the explanation, "We had a run-in in the hall. Phillippe seems to think it is open season on the female staff. He doesn't seem to see relationships -- only that some of the males are having sex with some of the females..."

"Ah." Armand nodded. "There is quite the list, isn't there? The two of you -- and your changing situation must be confusing -- Ed and Velma, Pete and Bianca, Jason and Inez... That is aside from more normal activity. What is his thought process?"

"I don't think he understands that rape is relevant," Leticia remarked. "Too many of us have... special relationships. But if he tries to have sex with me -- or Inez -- without permission, it is an issue. And if he bothers Velma, or Bianca, or someone else not in a special relationship, it's even worse..."

"So he's feeling left out?" Armand queried.

"Da." Boris nodded. "He wants to know why he is not invited to fuck one of our womans."

Armand nodded. "I thought that he was perfectly capable of finding his own?"

Boris shrugged. "Da. But they are -- how you say -- skanks."

Armand nodded. There weren't a whole lot of 'skanks' in the household; Leticia, the Wench, and Consuelo had been models; Inez wasn't prime stuff, and Velma CERTAINLY wasn't, but they were both special cases... "I will speak to him. Simple remedies offer themselves, but might make things worse; I could send the Wench, for instance -- but they do not have a relationship, and I don't think they ever would. Frankly, I don't want to foster any more relationships among the staff right now, anyway -- they give me headaches. And aside from for training purposes I don't want to get in the habit of providing female staff for the entertainment of male staff." The Wench and Charles came to mind, but Armand dismissed it -- the Wench was fixated on him, primarily, and Sharon both by proxy and in her own right; Charles was her Training Master and he derived benefit from it, but they did not have a relationship, per se. Still, the rules had too many highly visible exceptions... 'Dammit, Jason!' Armand thought, 'why couldn't you keep your dick in your pants? You owe me...' He shook his head. "I'll come up with something -- but nothing comes immediately to mind. If someone offers him a piece in the meantime that might help, but it is going to be an ongoing problem, I think."

Boris frowned, "Should I?" He glanced at Leticia, who visibly held her breath, awaiting her fate. The two men she answered to above all others were discussing her use...

Boris and Armand passed a significant glance. This was a test; how would she react? Boris turned to her, "You will do this, if I demand it, nyet?"

Perhaps a second elapsed before Leticia's face became serene. "Yes, Boris."

Boris looked back at Armand, who replied, "I will not either ask or encourage you to do that, Boris. It's not a solution in my book -- it might only muddy the waters further. You may or may not, as you like -- but don't do it because you think I want you to, because I don't." Boris nodded, and Armand added, "Are we done, then? I want to retire for the evening, I think."

"Da." Boris waved Leticia out; she curtsied to Armand and turned for the door, Boris following.

Outside, Leticia turned to Boris. "Your rooms or mine?" she asked, adding archly, "Master."

"Boris will do -- as long as you understand that the other is implied," Boris growled. He thought a moment, then, "Yours, I think. We will avoid Phillippe -- he will not understand." Besides, it would bring home to her that she was his wherever she was...

Phillippe did NOT understand. From his hiding place around the corner, he observed this exchange, and it irritated him. "What the fuck?" He waited until the pair were a ways down the hall and eased out of hiding...

... Almost into Armand's arms. "Phillippe!"

"Sir?"

"What are you doing?" Armand looked down the hall; Leticia was disappearing around the corner.

"Nothing."

Armand let his disbelief show. "Let's go into my office."

"What's wrong?" Phillippe pretended innocence.

"Why don't you tell me?" Armand replied. "Perhaps recent events have left you feeling slighted in some manner?" He seated himself at his desk.

"I, uh, well..." Phillippe stammered.

"Phillippe, there has been a sudden increase in below-stairs relationships here," Armand began. "Some of them are of a special nature, in that one of the participants has released her civil rights to the other -- and some of them are of the more 'normal' variety. However, you should make no mistake -- just because a woman in this household makes herself subservient to a male, that does NOT mean that she is subservient to ALL males, in or out of this household! If you use a woman in this household without either her permission, her master's permission, or both, I WILL take appropriate action!"

"But..."

"Let's go down the list, shall we? And the least shall be first... Bianca is a minor, and technically a child. Given that she is in an equals relationship with Pete and is Inez's daughter, there will be about four of us you'll have to survive if you harm her. Inez will run you afoul of Jason. The Wench will run you afoul of Charles, Sharon, and myself, probably in reverse order. Leticia belongs to Boris -- rather permanently, as of a few minutes ago. Consuelo is under Sharon's and my protection. Velma is in an equals relationship with Ed that may or may not flourish. Who have I left out? You do NOT want to touch Sharon without my specific permission -- and you do NOT want to touch Nora at all! Do you understand?"

"Yes, but..."

"Those under the sway of someone else -- that being the Wench, Leticia, Inez, and Sharon, at this point, although technically Sharon outranks you -- may be made available to you at some point by their masters. If that occurs, it is their master's will, and therefore not rape, and you may do anything to them their master authorizes you to do. The other women in the household -- Consuelo, Velma, Nora, and especially Bianca -- theoretically may be approached as you would approach any normal woman outside this household -- and if she declines, the same rules apply -- meaning it IS rape, and you WILL be prosecuted, at least! I should point out, however, that only Consuelo is not currently in a relationship of some type -- and she is more slave to me than she sometimes appears to be."

"Well, shit!" Phillippe grunted.

Armand smiled grimly. "I am not without sympathy for your plight, but I was under the impression that you were selecting and collecting your own female companions. Is this not the case?"

"Well, yeah, but it's not like I'm knocking off a piece every night!" Phillippe complained.

Armand steepled his fingers. "I'm not prepared to support that kind of thing as a fringe-benefit to your job, Phillippe; in every case in recent memory, the principals got together under their own power. Those with slaves have a personality capable of dealing with them as such -- something that you lack, through no fault of your own. I have, in the past, provided professional sexual entertainment to male staff who wished to enjoy it on a periodic basis -- and I may soon be in a position to do a much better job of it, at lower rates -- but it isn't going to happen on a nightly basis."

"Hookers?"

"Hookers." Armand gazed at the younger man. "I think you are confusing the benefits of a relationship with the whole package, as it were. Relationships are give-and-take things; I haven't seen anything in you that indicates to me that you really WANT a relationship, as opposed to a place to drain your balls. Am I right?"

"Ain't that what you get with a slave?" Phillippe argued.

"No, it isn't, frankly," Armand disagreed. "Let's take a look around. I was married to Sharon, despite her predilections and mine. I'm obliged to support both her and my daughter. The Wench might seem like the pure case, but she is a Chinese obligation -- I ruined her for her past life, so now I must keep her. In case you have not heard, Inez is pregnant -- and unless things go awry, Leticia will be, soon -- it's what she wants, and Boris has agreed to it."

"No way!"

"Oh, yes! In fact, Boris has agreed to legitimize children from the union! Do you know what that means? It means that if and when Leticia has children, Boris will marry her!" Armand smiled grimly. "Frankly, Jason is staring that particular issue in the face, too!"

"Shit!" Phillippe was taken aback!

Armand smiled grimly. "Velma is of child-bearing age, you know..." He tapped his fingers together. "So you see, life isn't THAT simple..."

"Shit, I guess not!"

Armand sat forward. "The hooker thing is still an option. I might even get you some service in trade, now that I think about it. I can look at allocating the Wench to you on an infrequent basis, also -- but as a training situation for her, not as a sex partner for you, per se -- you understand the distinction?"

"Uh, I think so."

"Let me clarify. I might have Charles deliver her to you for a bout of anal sex -- or to be double-teamed with Charles -- that kind of thing. To keep her tools honed. Like the recent blowjob session."

"Oh. Okay, I get it." Phillippe sighed.

"The service I want trained might not be the one you want to enjoy, if you know what I mean."

"Okay."

"So, are we clear? If you sex a woman under this roof, the rules will be obeyed -- or else!"

"Yessir."

"We're done then. Good night."