Marigold, Part 6

by Vulgar Argot

(NC, blackmail, MF, FF, MFF, DS, light bondage)

Marigold awake with a fuzzy head and aches in muscles that, while she'd been aware than she had them, she'd never expected that they would be used in quite the way they had.  She had slept so soundly that she hadn't moved at all. Now, she had a sharp crick in her neck. She also felt an unpleasant stickiness than didn't bear investigation.

Struggling into a sitting position, she looked around the room fuzzily. Early morning light slanted in from the window. She could hear Thule moving around in the other room already. On the bedside table, an airline-sized bottle of vodka stood open, still about a third full. She shook her head at it, refusing to believe that so little could have had such an effect.

She stood up, stretching and arching her back to get some of the cricks out of it. Thule came into the room, doing minute adjustments on a silky, red tie. He was dressed in a grey business suit, his mane of hair slicked back and tied into a long tail at the back. Marigold felt that the hair detracted somewhat from the impact of the suit, but didn't know what more he could do, short of cutting it off, to avoid that.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Thule asked. She shook her head in the negative.

"Good," he said, "Before I forget, I have a present for you. I meant to give it to you last night, after dinner. But, I seem to have gotten distracted." He left the room and came back with a long white box tied with string. Marigold looked at him inquisitively as he held it out.

"Take it," he said, "Open it."

Marigold liked being ordered to take a gift. It saved her the guilt and unease normally associated with the process. Once the strings were off and the box open, she slid out a red silken kimono, the back painted with a lotus flower, the sleeves with similar style designs.

"I know you won't be able to wear it at home," he said, sounding almost bashful, "but it would please me if you would wear it at Harvard. No," he added as she started to drape it over her shoulders, "it's not very practical to clean. You'll probably want to wash up before you put it on."

"Thank you, Thule ," she said, then sensing he was expecting more, added, "It's lovely. I'm sure I'll be glad to have it at Harvard."

He came to her, wrapping his arm around her waist. She tried not to stiffen under his touch. His embrace was brief, followed by a kiss on the head.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

"Sore," Marigold admitted. When Thule kept staring at her without speaking, she added, "and thoroughly violated."

Thule chuckled, "Do you mind it as much as you thought you would?"

Marigold lowered her head to try to hide her tears, but her shoulders shook with them.

"No," she choked out, "Not that much."

He moved in, not so close that their bodies came into contact, but enough to stroke her hair. When he finally spoke, he said, "You are a very peculiar girl, Marigold."

She leaned her head into his hand, like a cat would, closing her eyes. Just for a moment, she let herself sink into the old fantasy.

"Go," she said softly, "get to your meeting. I'm going to wash."

Thule leaned in to kiss her again on the top of the head, "If you get breakfast, feel free to sign it to the room.  I'll be back no later than two.  Until then, your time is your own."

"Thank you, Thule ," she said, not sure what she was thanking him for. Then, he was gone, briefcase in hand, ironic half-smile on his lips.

What Marigold really wanted to do was get her old, comfortable terrycloth robe out of her luggage, wrap herself in it, and go back to sleep, preferably in the unused bedroom. But, that would never do. Last night had put into stark relief how much the quality of her life depended on Thule 's favor right now. She didn't want to make him angry.

She also didn't want to stand in the middle of the carpet with tears drying on her cheeks and who knew what else dried on her thighs. Spurred to action, she walked into the large, main bathroom, and turned on the big, whirlpool tub. For a while, she just stared at the running water, thinking nothing at all, feeling empty. She realized that she had no idea who was standing over the tub. Two weeks ago, she'd known exactly who she was--The Virgin Marigold, as Brianne, had called her more than once. She'd had a wealth of adjectives to describe herself: Christian, moderately popular, studious, serious, chaste. She'd known a long time what she was going to do with her life--be Valedictorian, go to Harvard, marry Elliot, go to medical school, finish her residency, have three children, two boys and a girl. She knew their names and everything.  She'd known something wasn't quite right between her and Elliot, but didn't probe too deeply for the sake of the children.  Now, that part of the plan was gone.  She'd sacrificed her high school popularity. Her chastity had flown right out the window, not only because Thule demanded it, but because she'd enjoyed it so much. It hadn't so much flown as been pushed by Marigold herself.  With so much gone, she no longer felt the surety or superiority, the essential rightness that was at the center of calling herself a Christian.

The water level acceptable, she set the jets to pumping and stepped into the big tub, sitting so that the water came up to her chin. The powerful jets soothed her muscles and carried away the effluvia of the night before.

She closed her eyes and tried to decide what she was now--not much of a Christian, surely. She knew Jesus would forgive her for everything she'd done, but she also know how forgiveness worked. Things would never be the same between them again. She didn't really feel like a whore, either. Maybe, with time, she would become a whore, but from a practical standpoint, there had to be more to whoredom than having sex with one man, once. Even if being taken in the ass was the most unnatural, disgusting thing she could ever imagine enjoying, she was sure that real whores had a much more extensive resume than she did.

As the knots in her muscles gave up the ghost, Marigold became keenly aware of the jets throbbing against her skins, water swirling around her, tickling her thighs and bottom. It would be so easy to just lean into them, open herself up. Whatever she'd become, it felt a lot better to be doing it than sitting around regretting it.

She resisted. It was too easy. She was still enough of a Christian to recognize that as the hallmark of the Devil's Highway. The path of the righteous was narrow and hard. The ways of sin were as easy as falling off of a log.  Besides, she couldn't remember the last time she had been so hungry.  Resolute, she got out of the tub, letting it drain with some regret.

The sun was up in the sky now. While she was in the tub, the maid had come in, changed the sheets, made the bed, and left towels.  She'd even taken the little vodka bottle. Only a hint of soreness remained. With all signs of the evening's debauch gone or safely hidden inside of her, Marigold began to feel her spirits rise. She dried herself off and slipped into the kimono Thule had given her. It turned out to be surprisingly modest in cut, even if the feel of the fabric against her skin was so nice that it must be vaguely illicit.

By the time that she was sitting on the veranda, enjoying the feeling of the kimono on her flesh, sipping a cup of too-bitter coffee make palatable by an excess of sugar and cream, looking out over the park several stories below, street noise only a faint background, the early summer breeze and sunlight playing over her skin, the melancholy she'd felt earlier had completely faded away.

Maybe, she decided, the difference is that I'm not a child anymore. Maybe, it's like Paul said to the Corinthians. I've just become a woman and it's time to put aside childish things.  She chuckled a little at the blasphemy of the thought, then harder at the idea of springing that interpretation on Jonas some time during their Bible study.

She sat in the sun, drinking her coffee, eating her croissant, and trying a new idea on for size. She tried on the idea that she was older and more mature than she'd been, not a high school girl, but a woman on the verge of striking out into the world on her own, tackling college and her future.

That was it, she decided. She wasn't The Virgin Marigold anymore, but she wasn't a whore either. She was just a woman.

                                                -=-

After breakfast, she spent a little time lounging around the suite, enjoying her new identity. She was a sophisticated, sexual young woman, still faintly sore from at her lover's hand, naked except for the thin layer of silk he chose to wrap her in, lounging around the New York City hotel suite he'd probably spent a small fortune on.  After she'd had enough of that, she brought out her textbooks and tried to focus on differential calculus. But, she just couldn't concentrate. Giving up homework as a lost cause, she decided to go and find the hotel pool.

The bathing suit she wore had been bought the previous summer, more for its ability to flatten her figure than to flatter it. Of course, there wasn't much the designers could do in that department with the material at hand. Still, Marigold almost gave up her plan of swimming all together when she saw how unflattering it was. Up until now, she'd almost never gone swimming because the suits couldn't do much to hide her body. Now, she didn't want to swim because it didn't show her off.

Realizing she was being foolish, she wrapped herself in a hotel robe and went downstairs.  It turned out that the hotel had two pools downstairs, one labeled "family," the other "no children." Looking into the door of the family pool, she saw about a dozen children, seemingly unsupervised, running amok. At the deep end, she saw a small group of high school aged kids engaged in some sort of horseplay that would probably be described as "spirited" by someone too old to remember being that age.

Boldly, she pushed open the door to the "no children" pool. There were less than a dozen people in the room, most of them clustered around a bar set up at the far end. Only one seemed to actually be swimming. She waited for the whole room to turn around, throw out their arms, pointing to the next room, and shout, "No children! You belong over there."  They didn't, of course. Marigold steadied her breathing. I'm a adult, she reminded herself. I paid my dues, now I belong to the club.

Laying her robe and towel out poolside, Marigold dove into the water and began to swim back and forth across the width of it. She would have used the lanes, but the other swimmer was swimming crossways as well and she would have had to risk collision each time their paths crossed. Soon, she was pushing herself hard, swimming as quickly as she could, enjoying the exertion. She'd lost track of how many times she had crossed the lanes when she looked up and realized that the other swimmer, now holding on to the edge of the pool, was trying to talk to her. She latched onto the wall and turned to face him.

"Excuse me?" she asked.

"I just said that you were a very strong swimmer," the man answered her, his accent marking him as Australian, "You were leaving me in the dust out there."

"Oh," said Marigold, "Thank you. I would just working out some tension."

The man nodded, "Swimming can be good for that. I'm Paul, by the way."

"Marigold," Marigold said, taking his proffered hand, "Nice to meet you."

"Well, Marigold," said Paul, "I know it's a bit early, but can I interest you in a drink? It's another great way to relieve tension."

Marigold almost rejected the offer out of hand, but instead said, "All right, but just one, I think." Paul seemed like a nice enough guy. They were both adults. If he wanted to buy her a drink, she would humor him. It wasn't like she was going to go back to his room with him.

"All right," he asked, "What can I get you?"

"Something with vodka, I think," Marigold said.

"A screwdriver?"

"Sure," she answered.

Paul came back with a beer and a glass of orange juice and vodka, which Marigold imagined was a screwdriver. She sipped it, finding it wasn't so hard to drink as she'd expected. The orange juice cut most of the alcohol flavor.

"So," asked Paul, "Are you here with your husband?"

Wow, thought Marigold, I'm pulling off this adult thing really well. Of course, the truth was much too difficult to explain.  So, she said, "Yes."

"Oh," said Paul, his face a little bit crestfallen, "I didn't realize. Only..."

Marigold raised an eyebrow, enjoying the man's discomfort, "Only?"

"Well," said Paul, "You're not wearing a ring."

"Oh," said Marigold, her hand involuntarily flying to her mouth at being caught in a lie, "Well, he's not really my husband yet. He's my fiancé."

"Still," insisted Paul, "No ring?"

"We'll have one soon," Marigold improvised, "We're still in college. Once we graduate and Bartholemew gets a job in electrical engineering, we'll get a ring and have a big wedding."

"So," said Paul, "Where do you go to school?"

"Harvard," said Marigold, "I go to Harvard. My husband goes to MIT."

"Your not-husband," prompted Paul, "Bartholemew."

Marigold nodded, "Right. His friends call him Thule ."

"So," asked Paul, "Are you and Thule in New York long?"

"Only until tomorrow," said Marigold, "We've got to get back to school."

"More's the pity," said Paul, "I'm here another two weeks. I could always use the company of two bright young people. I travel so much."

"Sorry," said Marigold, "Are you from Australia ?"

Paul nodded, "Yeah. Although, I spend more than half the year traveling. Japan , Thailand , Singapore , Russia , London , and now New York . I haven't seen my family in over three months."

"Family?" Marigold asked.

"Yeah," said Paul, "I've got a wife and a two year-old boy at home.  I hate leaving them alone like this. But, a couple more years in the business and I can start working out of the home office."

"But, no ring?" Marigold asked, glad the pressure was off of her now.

"As I said," Paul answered, "I'm on the road more than half the year. My wife is a very understanding woman."

Seeking to change the subject, Marigold asked, "What business are you in, Paul?"

"I travel in eavesdropping," said Paul.

"Excuse me?"

"I sell eavesdropping equipment.  Tiny cameras, microphones, little recorders."

"How interesting," said Marigold enthusiastically.

"Really?" asked Paul, "Most people just think it's creepy. Actually, I don't think it's much of either. I sell them to big corporations and police departments mostly. Then, I train them in the proper use. Quite honestly, it's a bit tedious."

The rest of the conversation went much more easily. Marigold barely had to embellish on her initial lie after that. Paul seemed like such a personable guy that she wished she and Thule could keep him company while he was in New York . Of course, she'd have to get Thule to play along with the imaginary identity she'd created for them. But, with a screwdriver warming her system, she felt sure he wouldn't mind.

She got so engrossed in the conversation that she lost track of time. Realizing that it was now ten after two , she leapt to her feet, "Oh, God," she exclaimed.

Paul, who'd been in the middle of an amusing anecdote about customs officials in Kuala Lumpur , looked up at her alarmed, "Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing," she said, alarmed, "I just promised Thule I'd be back by two. I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Paul."

"You too, Marigold," said Paul, "If you need anything, I'm in room 822."

                                                -=-

Marigold bolted up to their suite. She'd disobeyed Thule and didn't know what sort of punishment he'd dream up for the slip. Letting herself in, she called out, " Thule ?"

There was no answer. It was a quarter past two and he wasn't back yet. Marigold sighed to herself and collapsed on the couch. Thule came in less than ten minutes later. She'd had just enough time to worry that something had happened to him. Delighted that nothing had, she met him at the door, wrapping her arms around his barrel chest and laying her head over his heart. He hugged her back.

"You're in a much better mood," he commented.

Marigold had completely forgotten about the mood she'd woken up in, "Yes," she said, tilting her head up to be kissed, "I'm sorry I was so childish. It's time for me to put away childish things."

He kissed her, his hand holding the back of her head, his tongue exploring her mouth. Pulling back, he said, "You've been drinking."

"Just one," said Marigold, "Now that I've had the experience of being drunk, I thought it might be nice to find out how alcohol actually tasted. How was your meeting?"

"Non-productive," said Thule , undoing his tie, "The two guys who are at the center of this business concern are really excited about my product, but they want me to come and work with them. And, I don't think there's any way I can realistically do that from Boston , while attending MIT, without working myself into an early grave." He threw his jacket over a chair, "Have you had lunch?"

"No," Marigold answered, "I thought you might want to have lunch together."

"Sounds good," said Thule , "Do you want to get changed and go downstairs or order in?"

Marigold considered the possibility of running into Paul in the hotel restaurant and said quickly, "Let's eat here."

"Sounds good," said Thule , "I really don't feel like getting dressed up until we have to for dinner. I'm going to change into something more comfortable. Stay dressed long enough to answer the door, please."

They took lunch on the patio. For once, the conversation lacked its usual brooding intensity. Prompted, Thule explained what the product was he'd come to New York to sell. Eventually, he simplified his explanation to the point of saying, "It's a tool used to model complex, deterministic systems along topological axes in order to facilitate Bayesian analysis."

"In other words," Marigold asked, "You've written a program that represents data in more than three dimensions in order to make it easier to guess what happens next?"

"Essentially," said Thule , "It's meant to be a facilitation tool for the decision-making process."

"When did we learn that?" Marigold asked, "I must have been out."

"Don't worry," said Thule , "It's not on the AP calculus test.  I've been a math geek since about the sixth grade."

Marigold was shocked to hear him speak so self deprecatingly, " Thule , you're not a geek."

"Sure I am," said Thule , "I worked hard to earn that badge. And I assure you, I did earn it."

Marigold tried to imagine a world where she aspired to earn the title, "geek." She couldn't imagine it. She knew she'd have to be more tolerant of geek culture at Harvard than in high school, but it wasn't like she was going to MIT. She pressed on, "But, geeks are all out of shape, never exercise, don't know how to talk to girls...."

Thule interrupted her, annoyance in his voice, "And popular girls all spread for the basketball team on command and can't get a C+ without blowing a teacher. Come on, Marigold. Haven't you learned anything about those neat, little categories you shove people into in the time we've been together?"

Marigold lowered her eyes, "I'm sorry, Thule ," she said, "It's habit. I really like the guys we eat lunch with. I think I'm up to understanding what they're talking about maybe forty percent of the time now. Please, don't be mad at me."

"That's so cute," said Thule , "Are you begging?"

Marigold looked up, surprised, "I...guess so."

"And," Thule asked, "Is seated the correct position from which to beg?"

Marigold looked around in stunned surprise. Realizing he was still waiting for an answer, she said, "No, Thule ."

Thule continued to look at her, amusement warring with sternness on her face. When Marigold figured out the game, she felt dense for not having realized it sooner. Standing, she smoothed the robe down across her knees before getting down on them, crouching back so that her bottom rested on her feet. Once in that position, she looked up at Thule , expectantly.

"Well?" Thule asked.

"I'm sorry," Marigold said, "I forgot what I was supposed to be begging for."

Thule stood up in front of her so that his crotch was at eye level. She could see that he was aroused. She began to think she understood what this was all about. He answered, "You were begging me not to be mad at you for being a shallow, superficial bitch."

She smiled to herself, "Please, Thule ," she said, leaning forward, "Don't be angry with me." She reached out her hands and began to undo his fly, "Please," she said.

"Marigold," Thule said evenly, "A genuine apology does not require physical contact."

Now, she was stunned. If she wasn't down here to suck his cock, what was she down on her knees for? He couldn't actually just want her down there, begging forgiveness for telling the truth about geeks, could he? But, the longer she thought about it, the more she realized that there were no obvious conclusions other than that one.

"Please, Thule ," she said, "Don't be angry at me for what I said."

He looked down at her, but didn't say anything.

"Please, Thule ," she said again, "Don't be angry at me."

"For what?" Thule asked.

"For what I said," Marigold answered.

"Is that what I told you to beg for?"

Marigold was stunned again, but her response time for getting over being stunned was improving by leaps and bounds, "Please, Thule ," she recited, "Don't be angry at me for being a shallow, superficial bitch."

"Are you contrite, Little Flower?"

"Yes, Thule ," she answered, "I think so."

"Well," asked Thule , "are you or aren't you?"

"I don't know," admitted Marigold, "I'm not sure what's wrong with what I said. I am sorry for making you angry, though."

"I'm not angry, Little Flower," said Thule , "I'm just disappointed to see that you still think that it's possible to apply the generally true to specific individuals as if it were gospel."

"But, most of the geeks are out of shape. Even though I've been at the table for a week, some of them still go all pale when I talk to them.  It's the truth. What's wrong with saying it?"

"You know," said Thule , "If you'd watch TV once in a while, I wouldn't need to explain this."

"I watch TV," said Marigold.

"Regardless," said Thule , "The problem is that you are making group generalizations based on what you've observed and applying them to the individuals in the group. You presuppose you know everything about a person because you can label them."

"Oh," said Marigold, thinking, "isn't that what the software you wrote does?"

Thule blinked down at her. She looked back up, not speaking.

"You do realize that I can do anything I want to you, don't you?" he asked, steel in his voice, "I mean, you've agreed to do what I tell you and, even if you hadn't, you can't very well get away with claiming non-consent without your parents finding out you're not at your aunt's house, can you?"

Marigold stifled as much of her grin as she could. She'd forced him off the argument. Keeping her voice even and demure, she said, "Yes, Thule .  I realize that I'm yours to do with as you please."

"Stand up," he said, "Go inside. Take off what you're wearing. Put on the kimono I gave you. Come back out here."

Marigold hurried to obey. Her body was already responding to the anticipation of what he was going to do to her. Naked, except for her kimono, she came back to where he was standing. He took her wrists, leading her by them until her hands were on the metal railing that kept them from falling over the edge.

"Don't let go of that until you're told," he ordered. She began to tremble. Was he really going to have her right here, out on the patio? No one from the ground could see, but it would be possible for a few of the upper balconies to do so. Still, he was right. There was nothing she could do to get out of it. If people were going to see, they were going to see. Let them think of her what they wanted. She only knew one other person in the hotel and he was two floors below them.

Thule came up so that he was right behind her, his hands gathering up the back of her kimono until she was completely exposed below the waist. She trembled at the touch of his rough pants against her flesh. He kept her lightly pinned against the railing with his hips, then slid his hand down between her legs. She parted them willingly, trembling under his fingertips. He touched her experimentally.

"You're already soaking wet," he said, "Did you really enjoy begging that much?"

"Yes," she whispered. The answer stunned her, but she also realized that it was true.  Thule laughed. Marigold's cheeks flushed.

"Well, good," said Thule , "Now that I have your attention, I will answer the question you asked. No. That's not what my tool does. It assigns probabilities to various outcomes of complex interactions, then modifies those probabilities based on observable data over time." He slid his finger into her, "That's also an excellent method for dealing with people. If you know someone is a geek or a stuck-up, popular, rich bitch, you can apply a specific profile to them, but only until you start to learn how they vary from the profile. Do you understand?" His finger traced her clit.

"I....unh....I think so," said Marigold, "I'm sorry, Thule . It's very difficult to concentrate."

"Are you just like Brianne?" Thule asked, "Is Dawn? Are you and Dawn just like each other?" He slid a second finger in, letting the first one go deeper.

"Oh, God," Marigold answered, "No."

"Are you answering my question or protesting my actions," Thule asked, his amusement clear.

"Answering," Marigold managed to blurt out, "I like what you're doing."

"Well," said Thule , splitting his fingers now so that each took her in a different hole, "The fact is that you're both part of the same demographic to most of the school. And, to an advertiser, you and I and even Mr. Talbot are all part of the same demographic."

"But," Marigold moaned, coming hard as Thule 's fingers found just the right spots to stroke, "that's ridiculous."

"That actually depends on the atomicity of data you need," Thule said, his fingers gaining speed, "If you only want to market something to 'geeks' or 'jocks' or 'the 18-35 demographic,' you don't need granularity. You need aggregation. That..." he gave a harder, deeper push with his fingers, sending her into another orgasm, "is what my tool does. Now, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes," Marigold moaned, "Oh, God. Yes. Yes! I understand. Oh, yes."

"Good," said Thule , pulling his fingers out, "because I would hate to think this lesson wasn't memorable."

"God, Thule ," Marigold said, weak-kneed, "I'll never forget it."

Thule rearranged her kimono, "You can let go of the railing now."

"Aren't you going to make love to me?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"No," answered Thule , "I'm not even going to fuck you, sorely tempted though I am. Go start the bath. We need to get cleaned up before dinner. I'll join you shortly."

                                                -=-

They sat in the tub together, Marigold wrapped in Thule 's arms as he gently washed her skin and lathered up her hair with shampoo. As soon as she thought she could get away with it, she began to wriggle her bottom against him. He stiffened almost immediately, but went right on lathering. Emboldened, Marigold started to try to wriggle so as to impale herself on Thule . He let her get to where the tip of his cock was inside of her and she was just about to drive down on it before pushing her off.

" Thule ," she pouted, "Please. You've got me so ready. I just want you inside me again."

"Spread your legs," Thule ordered. When she did, he locked her ankles with his own. Then, he twisted his body and began to push her forward onto the jet. The water hit her with a rush and she trembled at the shock of it. For a moment, she thought it was too intense, would be too hard, but Thule backed off fractionally until it hit her just right, then held her there as she squirmed in the jet, forced to endure the pleasure.

Soon, she was begging, "Please, Thule , make love to me."

"Nope," said Thule , stroking her breasts, "But, if you ask nicely, I might fuck you."

"God, Thule ," she begged, "Please fuck me. Please." She began repeating it like a mantra as the water and the situation drove her to come again and again. Still, he held her, not moving to take her.

"Please," she whimpered, "Please, Thule , I want it so bad."

"No," said Thule finally, "If we're going to make our dinner reservation, there's no time now."  So saying, he finally released her and stood up to get out of the tub.

She looked up at him, dazed and stunned, "You're a bastard," she whispered.

"Dry off," he answered, "I have something for you."

Marigold followed, her feet barely moving beneath her as she walked. Every nerve sang with frustration. She decided that she must have something medically wrong with her that she could want sex so badly.  Even the feeling of the towel as she rubbed herself dry was enough to make her whimper.

Thule had another gift box, "I know I told you to bring a dress for tonight, but that was only in case this one didn't meet with your approval."

She took the dress out. It was grey with spaghetti straps. Sliding it over her head, she realized that the back was non-existent, scooping so low that it almost exposed her bottom to the air. The support built into it was artfully hidden and reinforced with a pair of straps that crossed under the breasts and tied in the back.

She looked at herself in the mirror, " Thule , I could be arrested for this dress. It's obscene."

"You don't have to wear it if you don't like," said Thule , "I'm sure that whatever you brought will be fine."

She considered it critically, "No," she said, "it's only designed to look like I could just accidentally step out of it. It's actually quite secure. I'd be glad to wear it."

"Are you sure?" Thule asked.

"If I drive some poor man to assault me on the street, you'll have to defend me," Marigold said, by way of answer.

Thule smiled and went to the closet. He was already getting back into his suit from earlier in the day. He did cut a very handsome figure in it. But, Marigold was still aching to see him out of it. There was no place under the dress for a bra or panties other than the barest thong, of which she had none.  The feel of it against her bare flesh was such that she found herself getting more aroused as she walked, rather than less.

She squirmed until she realized that Thule was enjoying her squirming. Then, she disciplined herself not to give him the satisfaction.

The restaurant they went to was French, somewhere in the Village, and dark as a pit. The hostess led them through the gloom to dining area outside, bounded on three sides by taller buildings and on the fourth by the restaurant itself. They took the only empty table and, as they crossed to it, Marigold felt like every eye turned to watch her. Men leered openly. Women shot daggers out of their eyes. It was all quite invigorating.

Thule ordered for both of them, recommending items to her, all of which she agreed to except one. The dish she ordered instead proved disappointing and she said so. Thule only smirked at this. She ate so many things she'd never heard of before that night, she quickly lost count. They drank white wine, which seemed to take the edge off of her desire without actually lessening it. She had two glasses when even one would have been a little too much.

Conversation was as light as the soufflés they had for dessert. The only real disappointment was again the coffee, "Why does everybody in New York have to burn the coffee?" she asked Thule a little bit too loudly.

"It's not burnt," said Thule , "It's French roast."

"I'm drinking tea from now on, then," said Marigold, modulating her voice too low now and putting her cup down.

After dinner, they walked back to the hotel. Even the early summer air made her shiver and Thule held her tight.  The moon was nearly full and bathed even New York in an unearthly glow.

"I love you, Thule ," Marigold told him as the hotel came into sight.

"Marigold," said Thule sternly, "You are not to use that word again until I tell you so.  You don't know me well enough to love me. You don't know what I have planned for you. I have developed a deep fondness for you that I did not anticipate when I first decided to force you into this deal."

Marigold giggled. They were in the elevator now, "You're lying," she said.

"Excuse me?" asked Thule . There was a dangerous undercurrent in his voice.

"You've always liked me," Marigold accused him, "You told me you've been wanting to make...to fuck me for years."

They were in the elevator now. He turned to her, "I didn't specifically want to fuck you. I wanted to break you, to make you obey and beg. When I imagined myself fucking you, it was always rape--painful, humiliating rape. Quite often, I fantasized about killing you. Does that sound like I've always liked you?"

They were at the door to the suite now, so close. Marigold felt the anticipation rising, sharp and keen through the receding fog of the wine. You looked at him as seriously as she could manage, "You can do whatever you want to me tonight, Thule . I just want you."

He pushed the door open. She went to wrap her arms around his neck but he slipped away, turning her to face into the room as they both entered.  There was another person in the apartment.

"Marigold," Thule said, "Do you remember Maya?"

"Maya," Marigold asked, the last of the alcohol draining from her system in a rush, "what are you doing here?"

Maya looked at her, then at Thule , "I don't believe it. You really got her to come. Until you walked through that door, I half thought you were playing some elaborate prank to get back into my pants."  She walked up closer, examining Marigold closely, "Mari, is that really you?"

Marigold nodded, "I haven't seen you since you went away to school, Maya. You're looking well."

"You look surprised to see me," say Maya, "Didn't Thule tell you that I was going to be here? Thule , didn't you tell Marigold I was going to be here?"

"There wasn't time," said Thule , "She'll do what I tell her."

" Thule ," said Marigold, panic starting to creep into her voice, "what's going on?"

"I asked you a question, Marigold," he said evenly, "Do you remember Maya?"

"Of course," said Marigold, "We used to be best friends."

Maya stepped around so that she was behind Marigold, "I thought so, too. Why aren't we best friends any more, Marigold?"

"You...you went away," Marigold said. She knew it wouldn't be enough, but she had to try.

"Why did she go away?" asked Thule .

"Her father found out she was going to have an abortion," said Marigold miserably, "He sent her to her grandmother's to have the baby, then to Catholic school."

Maya was right behind her now, fingertips on her arm, "Who told my father I was going to have an abortion?"

"Jonas," said Marigold. Tears were rolling down her cheeks now, "I told Jonas about it and Jonas told your father."

Thule was almost on top of her too, now. He reached up and wiped away her tears, "Don't cry, Little Flower. Tonight, if you're contrite, you're getting absolution."

"She is?" Maya asked, "I don't remember that being part of it."

"Part of what?" Marigold asked, " Thule , please tell me."

"The night everything went to Hell," Thule said, "Maya and I planned to kill you and Brianne and Randy Vandevoort. I promised I'd get all of you for Maya. She made me promise that, whatever I did to the other two, I save a piece of you for her."

"Are you going to kill me?" Marigold asked. She wondered if she would scream or try to stop him.

"No," said Thule , laughing mirthlessly, "Those were very angry times. At some point, I realized that killing the three of you would just mean you were dead. I wanted to punish you. I wanted you all to feel the way Maya and I did that night. Do you know how we felt?"

"No," said Marigold, "What's going to happen to me?"

"You're going to talk to Maya. You're going to answer all of her questions fully, honestly, and candidly. Then, I'm going to let her punish you. You'll do what she tells you as if I were telling you to do it."

"I can't," Marigold said, crying, "Please. I can't answer those questions. I don't want to. I...I'm so sorry for what happened, for what I did. Please, forgive me."

"I've already forgiven you," said Thule, "It's Maya's forgiveness you need. But, she won't forgive you until you've answered her questions."

"And I make no promises then," said Maya, "I'm not in a very forgiving mood."

"Regardless," said Thule, "You will have done what you can to achieve forgiveness."

"Thule," Marigold said, on her knees now, crying, "I can't. I give up. I don't care about our deal. Get me kicked out of school. I don't care. This is too hard."

Thule shrugged, "Fair enough." He turned to Maya, "Sorry, honey. I tried. I can't force her to do this. It won't work." He turned back to Marigold, "You can have the bedroom we used last night. Maya and I will take the other. I'll drive you home tomorrow."  Walking over to Maya, he took her head in both hands, leaned down and kissed her deeply, passionately. Marigold screwed her eyes shut.

"All right," she whimpered, not opening her eyes, "All right. You win. I'll answer the questions. I'll take the punishment. But, only on one condition."

"No conditions," said Thule.

"Hear her out," said Maya. Thule had let her go, but she still held him around the hips, "It may be one of the conditions we've already made."

"Thule," Marigold asked, crying, "Will you stay and protect me?"

Thule detached himself from Maya. He took Marigold by the hand and helped her to her feet. She rose. He looked her in the eyes.

"Little Flower," he said slowly, "You have a very strange definition for the word, 'protect.'"

                                                -=-

The three of them sat in tableau on the bed, Maya cross-legged against the headboard, Marigold facing her from the foot, leaning with her back against Thule. The questions started easily enough. They covered details all three already knew. Maya had been Marigold's only real friend back in the seventh and eighth grade. Maya's family had moved from Argentina suddenly, before they could begin teaching their daughter English. Marigold had gotten left back after she missed too much school following her father's death. They'd been inseparable. In the summer between the eighth and ninth grade, Marigold's mother had remarried and Marigold herself had gained the attention of the more popular girls.

"And then you told them lies about me," said Maya. When angry, the patrician Argentinian accent was still heavy.

"No," said Marigold, "I told only Brianne--and only the truth. That you'd let a boy feel you up and a girl kiss you while we were at camp. I betrayed your confidence, but I didn't make anything up."

Maya nodded, "Your candor is appreciated. From that point on, you were popular and I wasn't. You made conditions on our continued friendship. Like an attention-starved dog, I accepted. I continued to confide in you and you told Brianne everything I told you. She twisted it, made it sound worse than it was, and told everyone. Is that right?"

Marigold nodded miserably, "As far as I know. I betrayed every confidence. I didn't really listen to the gossip when it got back to me."

"But, you knew I was developing a reputation as a slut?"

Marigold nodded, "Yes. I knew."

"And I, oblivious to your treachery, continued to tell you everything, including how miserable all of the gossip was making me. How I tried to kill myself because I was so miserable. How boys grabbed me in the halls because they believed they could. You knew all of this, didn't you?"

"Yes," said Marigold, "I told Brianne. And she used it to make your reputation worse and you got more miserable."

"And then," said Maya, "At the end of ninth grade, I started seeing Thule. And, he protected me. And I was happy. And I told you I was happy."

"And when Brianne found out," Marigold continued the story, "she tried twice as hard to make you miserable. But, it didn't work. Thule protected you and beat up anyone who tried anything with you. He beat James McTimson so badly he was out of school for a month."

"But, you finally found a way to betray me to Brianne, didn't know. After summer, I came to you, crying."

"Please," said Marigold, "I'm so sorry. I know the story. Please. Punish me for it. I deserve it. I know I do."

"But, you don't know the whole story," said Maya, "I told you I was pregnant and getting an abortion. You not only told Brianne. You told your stepfather. Why did you do that?"

"I was hoping he would tell your father," admitted Marigold, "I didn't want you to kill your baby. Thule, I didn't want her to kill your baby."

"No other reason?" Maya asked.

Marigold wept for a long time, too miserable to answer. Thule held her tighter, stroking her hair. Finally, he whispered in her ear, "You'll feel better if you tell it all. Don't hold anything back."

"I did it," Marigold said through her tears, "because I wanted you to go away. I hated you for letting me betray you. I didn't want to keep seeing you and being reminded of it. As long as you were there, I had to spy on you for Brianne. If you went away, I thought I could stay in her favor and not have to pay much for it."

"But, you did..." Maya began.

"I also did it," Marigold whispered, "because you were the only other person with a perfect GPA. All I could think was, one screw up, and I'd be behind you and Thule. I wouldn't be valedictorian or salutatorian. I'd just be nothing."

Maya stared at her, stunned, head tilted to one side, "Really?"

"I couldn't take the pressure," Marigold said.

"I didn't realize just how petty you really were," said Maya, "You wanted me gone because of grades?"

"Yes," said Marigold, her head bowed, "That was the real reason I told Jonas. I wanted your father to take you out of school so you'd be disqualified as valedictorian."

"Was it worth it?" Maya asked.

"I thought so at the time," said Marigold, "I just wanted it so bad, I lost sight of everything else."

"And now?" Maya asked.

"I don't care now," said Marigold, "I don't deserve Harvard. I don't deserve college. I just want to be with Thule and I don't deserve that either."

Maya looked up at Thule, "Damn," she said, "Thule, what did you do to this girl?"

Thule shrugged, "I've been horrible to her since day one. I blackmailed her. I got her ostracized.  I made her into a whore.  I ordered her around. I violated her. I made her beg. This is just as much a mystery to me as to anyone."

"Marigold," asked Maya, "How do you feel about Thule?"

She wanted to say that she loved him. But, she remembered the prohibition, "I want to be with him. I want him to keep me."

"Even after what he's done to you?"

Marigold nodded, "I want him to keep treating me the way he has. I like being his whore. I like being violated by him. No matter how badly he treats me beyond that, I've earned it."

"That's a nice dress," Maya said, "Did Thule make you wear it?"

"Yes," said Marigold, "although he said I had a choice."

"Take it off," said Maya.  Marigold looked up at Thule.

"Obey her," said Thule.

Marigold stood, untied the dress, and let it fall to the floor.

"Sit back down," said Maya, "Thule, go sit in the chair for a bit."

"You don't get to order me around, Maya," said Thule evenly.

"Please," said Maya, "I want her to feel as naked and alone as I did."

Thule leaned down to collect the dress. He leaned down to Marigold, "I'll be right here if you need me."

Maya leaned forward. To Marigold, she looked to be fully possessed by her old, Mayan blood--a proud, bloodthirsty warrior. He straight, black hair was even done up with a single, thin braid in red, white, and green beads.

"Do you know who's baby I was forced to have because of you?" Maya asked.

"Thule's," said Marigold, then less certainly, "I always assumed it was Thule's....If it wasn't Thule's, who was it?"

"Randy Vandevoort," said Maya, "When she couldn't get at me any more, Brianne went to the one boy that Thule couldn't thrash into submission, convinced him I was a hot, little whore. Told him how bad I wanted it. During the summer, he raped me. He raped a lot of girls at our school. Most shut up because they were intimidated. A few had to be bought off. But, I was the first."

"No," cried Marigold, "God, Maya, I didn't know."

"Randy Vandevoort raped me because you told Brianne I was a whore and Brianne told him."

Marigold sat there, completely miserable, naked, and alone. She was sure that she was the worst person who had ever lived. She'd spent three years trying to convince herself that this had never happened or that, if it did, Jesus had forgiven her and that was all that mattered.  Now, it was all laid out in front of her.

"So," said Maya, "Do you still expect absolution?"

"I don't expect anything," said Marigold, "I'm lost. If it will ameliorate your pain to punish me, do it. Please."

Maya nodded, "Lie down, on your stomach."  She went into the living room and came back with a heavy, black duffel back.  Reaching in, she pulled out a long, black strip of cloth, which she tied around Marigold's eyes as a blindfold. Next, Marigold felt cold steel as Maya cuffed first one hand, then the other to the bed. Maya was blind and bound now, completely at Maya's mercy.

"Christ, Maya," said Thule, "put that away. I told you that you wouldn't be allowed to use those."

"Relax, mi corazon," said Maya, "I didn't repack my bag. Everything is in here. I'm just looking for these." She laid something on the bed, "And this. And, of course, these."

"You still use those?" Thule asked.

"You can't beat the classics."

Thule answered, sounding bored, "Just don't set off the sprinklers."

"Would you like to help?" Maya asked, sounding hopeful.

"No," said Thule , "I never had use for these things for my own sake."

"Suit yourself," said Maya, "You always said you wanted to watch me work some time. Here's your chance."

Marigold heard Thule get up from his chair and cross the room to where Maya was standing. She couldn't hear what was happening and began to imagine that they were kissing, maybe undressing each other. She imagined Maya, topless, on her knees, taking Thule 's member into her mouth the same way Marigold herself had done on their first encounter so long ago.

When the strap stung across her bottom, it was a relief. As long as Maya was beating her, she wasn't seducing Thule . Marigold cried out anyway in shock and surprise. Maya struck her again and again, soon getting a rhythm going.

Then, to Marigold's horror, the lust and sensitivity that had built up all day began to reawaken. She didn't want to enjoy this. It was supposed to be painful and humiliating. And, without a doubt, it was. But, it was arousing, too. Soon, her cries of pain were coming out as mewls of pleasure instead. The harder Maya hit her, the more aroused she became.

"Please," Marigold begged, "stop."

Maya did. Marigold lay there, trembling. The effect was not lost on Maya.

"Looks like I've got the touch," said Maya, " Thule , I think she's enjoying it. Is that right, whore? Are you enjoying it?"

"Yes," Marigold whispered, "I'm so sorry. I just wanted to let you punish me. I wanted to hate it."

"Oh, Marigold," said Maya, "It's all right. If you're enjoying it, it's because you believe you deserve it. Do you believe you deserve what I'm doing to you?"

"Oh, yes," said Marigold, enthusiastically.

"Would you like me to keep punishing you?" Maya asked.

"Yes, please," said Marigold.

"Call me mistress," said Maya.

"What?" asked Marigold?

Maya slapped the strap across Marigold's bottom, hard, "I said, call me Mistress."

"Yes, Mistress," said Marigold, "Please keep punishing me."

Maya seemed to be moving around the bed now. She asked Thule , "Now, can I use these?"

"No," said Thule emphatically.

"Can I ask her?" Maya said poutily.

"No," Thule said again.

"Spoilsport," answered Maya.

"Maya," said Thule , "I didn't want to let you do this. I did because I promised I would. I thought you'd earned some vengeance. I did not except you to be....flip about it."

" Thule ," said Marigold, "It's okay. Really."

"No speaking," Thule and Maya said as one.

"If you want dark and broody, I can do dark and broody," said Maya, "I did about two years of dark and broody. But, I'm happy with who I am now."

"All right," said Thule , "do it your way--within the rules we discussed."

Then, Maya was straddling Marigold's legs. Marigold felt hands on her shoulders. Then, Maya drew her hands quickly down Marigold's back and Marigold realized that she was wearing gloves with tiny spikes on them. They scratched her, but did not break the skin. Marigold cried out. They hurt, but she was already getting aroused by them to. As Maya began to work them all over her back, bottom, and legs, sometimes in circles, sometimes in swipes, Marigold fought with all of her will not to come from the intensity of it. She didn't last long. Soon, she was writhing, moaning, and gasping.  Maya seemed to enjoy the process immensely and it went on for a very long time.  When she finally let up, Marigold's body was vibrating from the top of her head to the bottoms of her feet.

"Did you like that, Princess?" Maya asked.

Marigold nodded into the pillows, "Oh, yes. Very much."

"Good," said Maya, "ready for whatever comes next?"

"Yes," said Marigold.

What came next was a beating about the shoulders and the backs of the legs with a rattan cane. Again and again, it thudded against her flesh, a barely controlled thrashing. Once, it caught her in the backs of the knees. She cried out in real, unmitigated pain.

"Oh, Princess," said Maya, "I'm so sorry. I'm getting sloppy. I should stop."

"You're not done," whispered Marigold, "You still have the thing that could set off the sprinklers."

"It's okay," said Maya, "You've had enough. I forgive you, Marigold."

"Thank you," said Marigold, tears running down her cheeks, "I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I thank you. Still, you're not done."

"She's done, Little Flower," said Thule , "Maya, let her up."

"No," said Marigold, "Let her finish....Please."

"Out," Thule half-growled, half-shouted.

For a moment, Marigold strained to comply, so strong had the command been in his voice.  Instead, she heard Maya say, "Dammit, Thule , this is between her and me."

"Go in the living room for a minute," Thule said more calmly, "Or take your bag and keep going. It's all the same to me. Either way, close that door on your way out."

Marigold heard the door slam and felt Thule 's weight on the bed.  His hand stroked her back, so gently, soothing the ache and burn where it touched.  Marigold trembled, waiting for him to speak.

"Are you enjoying your beating, Little Flower?" he asked at last.

"I don't mean to," she answered.

"I would think it rather defeats the purpose of the process if you enjoy it too much," said Thule .  It was not a question and did not seem to require an answer. Marigold held her silence.

"Fortunately for you," said Thule , "Maya doesn't seem to mind. In fact, you seem to be playing into some deep-seated fantasy of hers. I sent her in the other room partly so she can cool off for a minute or two. She's almost as far gone as you are."

" Thule ," Marigold asked, "Are you mad at me?"

"I don't know," said Thule , "You have, once again, defied my expectations."

"What does she have that you're so afraid of letting her use on me?"

"Oh," said Thule , sounding dismissive, "Just some candles she's been letting burn since she started."

Marigold sounded puzzled, "What's she going to do with them?"

Thule ignored her question, "Why did you ask me to stay and protect you if you were going to try to override me?"

"I'm sorry, Thule ," Marigold said, "I didn't mean to. It's just that I'm embarrassed. You got me so worked up all day that even this is like sex to me right now. I was hoping that whatever she saved for last might really seem like punishment, enough to let her feel like she's really punishing me. I can never make up for what I did, but maybe I can help her feel like she's gotten some measure of revenge. And maybe she'll do something so awful and unforgivable that I won't feel so badly anymore."

"If I let her back in here," Thule said, "I'm going to let her finish what she was building up to."

"Let her finish," said Marigold.

Thule got up from the bed. Marigold heard the door open.

"You can come and finish if you like," said Thule , "But, if you're going to use the ice first, gag her. The neighbors are probably sleeping."

Marigold heard running feet for a couple of seconds, then Maya's voice from where Thule had just been standing.

"Oh, Thule ," Maya said. To Marigold, it sounded like she'd been crying, "I'm so sorry. I've missed you so much."

Thule 's chuckle didn't not sound like it held much mirth or amusement, "Yes, and I know how you've gone about missing me these last few years, too. Just remember. I only invited you to let you punish Marigold tonight, not yourself and not me."

Then, Marigold heard nothing for a while except the distant sounds of the city. Straining her ears, she heard Maya sobbing hard, deep, and low, like a dam had burst. Thule was making comforting susurrations.

He's probably petting her hair too, Marigold thought bitterly. The bitterness surprised her. She realized she was saying to herself, in effect, "Beat me, scratch me, burn me. Anything to make you feel better. But, don't be hugging my boyfriend." She had to stifle a laugh.

Then, one of them was on the bed, kneeling. She heard and felt as one cuff, then the other was undone from the headboard.

"Is it over?" Marigold asked.

"No speaking," said Maya, "Roll over on your back. Relax your arms for a minute, then put them back over your head so I can recuff you."

Once Marigold rolled over, Maya threw one leg over her, straddling her stomach. At some point during the evening, Maya had shed her skirt. Now, her soft knees and thighs pressed against Marigold's belly, bare flesh to bare flesh. Just below her navel, Marigold could feel the wet silk of Maya's panties. Maya leaned forward and began to run Marigold's shoulders, deep healing circles, bringing sensation back into them. Marigold sighed contentedly.

As Maya's fingertips moved more firmly down onto the pectorals, the heels of her hands brushing over Marigold's achingly erect nipples, it became suddenly clear to Marigold that, once again, she'd only noticed half of what was going on. Thule had tried to tell her, but she'd been so blinded by her own presupposition, she'd ignored the warning. As Maya's hands closed on her breasts, Marigold let out a little whimper.

"I said," growled Maya, sounding remarkably like Thule , "No speaking."

"I'm pretty sure that was a whimper," remarked Thule .

Hearing his voice, knowing he was watching this, broke Marigold's will, "No," she begged, "Please don't."

"But that was definitely speaking," said Thule . By the sound of his voice, he was in the chair in the corner of the room.

Maya squeezed one of Marigold's breasts just hard enough to hurt, "Princess, are you going to start misbehaving now, when we're so close to done? After you volunteered your tender flesh? Speak again and I will gag you. Put your hands back above your head."

Marigold did, coincidentally moving her breasts more fully into Maya's hands. She felt herself blushing, but Maya seemed more interested in binding her wrists than fondling her now. The cuffs snapped with a frightening finality.

Once Marigold was secured, Maya asked, "Do you know what I wanted to do to you tonight? I wanted to take one of my big, thick vibrators and rape you with it," Her voice was savage now, "I wanted to strap it around my waist and hear you beg and cry for mercy. I wanted to break your spirit, then slap you in the face with it a couple of times, just to show you who's boss. Do you think you would like that?"

"I don't know," Marigold answered, assuming it was safe to speak now, "Everything that's given me pleasure since Thule started blackmailing me has surprised me." She was crying now, although she'd be hard-pressed to say why.

"Do you know why I'm not raping you right now?" Maya asked, "Do you? Because Thule told me I couldn't do that. He's apparently gotten much better at protecting his girlfriend from that sort of thing since..."

"Maya," said Thule , "I won't warn you again."

"But," said Maya, as if she hadn't heard him, "He let me beat you and he's going to let me put my hands all over you, eat your pussy, and make you eat mine. He doesn't seem to mind that at all. In fact, I suspect, it's really turning him on. Is it turning you on, Thule ?"

"Of course," said Thule .

"In fact," said Maya, cupping Marigold's breasts again, "I bet he'd like to come over here and fuck both of us right now. Wouldn't you, Thule ?"

"No," said Thule , his voice nowhere near so calm, "I've still got scars from the last two times I let you in. You do nothing for me anymore, Maya. I'm fulfilling a promise I never should have made. Have your revenge if you're so damned determined, but that's as far as this goes."

Marigold felt Maya's thighs stiffen dangerously around her. Even though the girl on top of her kept her voice calm, she was clearly badly rattled by Thule 's speech.

"So," asked Maya, "you really didn't invite me over to get the three of us into bed together? You did it so I could punish Marigold, without ulterior motive?" There was a pause as if Maya were waiting for Thule to answer. When he didn't, Maya went on, "You did it so I could do...this?"

The pain and burning hit Marigold so hard and suddenly that she cried out, loudly. If Thule hadn't said anything about candles, she would have thought she was being branded. As it was, Maya must have splashed a whole candle's worth on her at once. It burned across her collarbone and pectorals, splashing even on the tender underside of her arms.

"Not so much at once," said Thule , sounding disinterested, "We've already left too many inexplicable substances on the sheets." Marigold imagined she could see him trying to be calm when he really wanted to rush over to the bed and free her. Maya complied nonetheless after that, dripping little bits of wax on Marigold's stomach, chest, and legs, drawing the process out, loving to watch Marigold flinch.

Amazingly, while Marigold did not come to enjoy the process, she found that, after a while, it was like someone else getting hot wax poured on them. She still felt it, but she felt like it was burning a part of herself that couldn't get at her true self.

Eventually, Maya stopped. A moment later, she had undone Marigold's blindfold and asked, " Thule , would you like to come and help sooth her with ice?"

Thule came over, bringing the bucket of half-melted ice. With his left hand, he begin peeling and smearing away the wax. His right followed, first dipped only in the icy water, letting the warmth of his hand moderate its cold. Maya was doing the same, but taking the opportunity to fondle and molest her at the same time. Maya was wearing only her panties now. Thule , absurdly, was still dressed in the pants and shirt he'd worn to dinner. Both sets of hands were beginning to turn her on. The ice made her skin incredibly sensitive, so much so that even a casual breath could arouse her.

Thule uncuffed her so that he could sit behind her and sooth her back as well. Marigold kept her eyes closed, reveling in the touch of, she admitted to herself, all four hands. At some point, Thule 's hands became less therapeutic and more exploratory. Marigold leaned back into him, loving being in his arms, smelling his scent and feeling his warmth.

A hand slid between her legs, finding her clit and rubbing it expertly. Marigold kept her eyes closed, rocking against it, not wanting to open her eyes and see who was touching her like that. Half twisting in Thule 's lap, she tried to turn, blind as a newborn kitten, and unbutton his shirt. Once he realized her intent, He stripped off dress shirt and t-shirt underneath. Marigold turned again, rubbing her back against the short, soft hair on his chest.

This time, when she came, it built slowly, gradually. Even after it arrived, it kept building in intensity. Maya lowered her head to Marigold's lap, kissing her way up one thigh, then the other. The part of Marigold's mind that would have been appalled by how much she liked that must have called it an early night because she felt only pleasure. Her hands wrapped around the back of Maya's head, guiding her in. Maya's tongue explored inside of her as she teased and sucked Marigold's clit. Marigold was over the top now, moaning and growling and making animal noises. Then, when she didn't think it could get any more intense, Maya slid two fingers in on either side of her clit and transferred her tongue into Marigold's ass.

Marigold was too stunned, surprised, and aroused to try to stop her beyond some perfunctory protest noises. She let herself ride the waves of pleasure, unperturbed by the undercurrents of right and wrong.  When Maya finally stopped, Marigold was more drained than she could believe. At some point, Maya had taken Marigold's hand and placed it between her own dark thighs. After a slow start, Marigold began to find deep satisfaction in making Maya come as she mercilessly teased and squeezed the smaller girl's clit, or drove her fingers deep inside. When Maya pushed her head down, Marigold went almost willingly, stopping only to suck at Maya's nipples, then bite one a little too hard, eliciting a slight yelp of pain. When Maya looked down, she only grinned up wickedly.

She found that she did not mind eating pussy as much as she thought she would. While she was in no danger of giving up men for this particularly delicacy, she reveled in her ability to make Maya squeal, moan, squirm, and come. In fact, she'd even momentarily forgotten Thule was there until he entered her, rock hard and seemingly huge. She was spread out on all fours now, lapping at Maya. Thule took her roughly, pounding away at her from the get-go. Marigold didn't care. She pushed back against him, urging him to go faster. At the same time, she gripped more firmly at Maya's hips so that, as her whole body rocked forward and back with Thule 's thrusting, Maya's hips went back and forth as well.

When Thule came inside of her, they stopped as if by consensus. Drained, the three of them collapsed on the bed, Marigold in the middle, being spooned by Thule , and facing Maya.  Thule 's hand traced lazy circles that crossed from Marigold's leg to Maya's and back again. Maya rained tiny kissed on Marigold's face, smiling and laughing quietly. Lying together like that, they fell asleep.

                                                -=-

The edges of the sky were red with first dawn when Marigold awoke. During the night, Thule had rolled over onto his back, leaving slightly less than half the bed for the two girls. Marigold had ended up wrapping her arms around Maya, who was barely five feet tall and petite, like an oversized doll. When Maya slid silently from her arms and padded away from the bed, Marigold pretended to be asleep, but kept one eye on her old friend. Whatever had passed between them, she didn't entirely trust Maya anymore.

Still, she had to chuckle to herself when Maya's nefarious predawn mission seemed to be a trip to the bathroom. Seeing this, Marigold realized her own urge and headed to the bathroom off of the other bedroom.

When she came out, her eyes adjusted to the half light, she saw one of Maya's bags open on the still-made bed. It was open and a few of the "toys" they hadn't used that evening were on top. Unable to resist, she reached into the bag and pulled out the dildo on top for closer examination. She paled a little at the size of it, relieved that real ones didn't seem to grow quite so big.

As she was about to put it back, she noticed a few other devices that had been thrown in underneath it. Most of them she couldn't even guess a use for. But, she did recognize the alligator clips and the electrical leads coming off of a TENS unit. Realizing just how much of Maya's repertoire had been thwarted, Marigold gave a shudder of relief that Thule had been there to protect her.

It also made sense to her now why Thule had wanted nothing to do with Maya as a lover now. Quickly replacing the dildo on top of the bag, she headed back to the bedroom where Thule slept.

There, in the first rays of sunlight, Maya had positioned herself between Thule 's legs and taken him into her mouth. Marigold thought that he was still asleep, but then saw his hand grope for Maya's head, find it, and hold it where it was.

She wanted to shout at Maya or do something to make her stop. A vision of retrieving the enormous dildo and using it on Maya to get her attention flashed through her mind. Instead, she just stood and stared. The image hit her like a sucker punch in the gut. She was powerless, she realized. She may belong to Thule , but Thule did not belong to her. What could she do if he wanted to fuck every other girl who crossed his path? She couldn't stop him from fucking her. She damned well couldn't stop him from fucking Maya.

She almost fled the scene, but couldn't.  Instead, she pulled the door mostly closed, so she could observe without being seen.  She kept hoping that Thule would push Maya away.  Through her tears, she watched as Maya slithered up Thule 's body and impaled herself on him, sinking onto his cock with a satisfied sigh.  Slowly, she rode Thule , moving her hips up and down. After about a minute of this, Marigold's last hope was lost. Thule was now clearly awake, his eyes open, his voice too low for her to make out the words. Maya's response lilted in counterpoint. For a moment, Marigold thought that Thule was struggling to get out from under the other girl, but as he rocked forward, he only changed positions so that, now, Maya was flat on her back, being driven into the  mattress by his thrusting. Thule said something to Maya, but all Marigold could hear was a growl. Maya laughed. Thule 's assault on her redoubled. Maya cried out in a sort of panicked pleasure, but Thule cut the cry off with a hand over her mouth.

After only a few minutes, it was over. Thule let out a strangled cry and rolled off of Maya. Both lay panting for a few seconds. Then, Thule spoke. Maya rose and began collecting her clothes. Marigold retreated into the living room. She didn't want to go back in the other room, so she quickly lay down on the couch and closed her eyes.

Maya emerged a few minutes later, then disappeared into the other room. She re-emerged a minute later and lay the two suitcases on the floor near the front door. Then, she came over and kneeled beside the couch. Marigold was determined to keep pretending that she was asleep, but Maya leaned in and kissed her full on the mouth. In surprise, her eyes flew open.

"Princess," said Maya, "I've got to get going, but I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."

Marigold looked her old friend up and down. For a moment, she wanted to forgive everything. Instead, she just said, "Okay, Maya. Take care of yourself."

"I've left my phone number and e-mail address on the pad on the desk," said Maya, "Call me some time. We'll get together, like old times...no bag. I promise."

Marigold managed a smile, knowing she would never call or write.

Then, Maya was gone. The door clicked shut and it was only Marigold and Thule , alone in the suite. She heard the bathroom door off of the main bedroom close. She closed her eyes and in hopes of getting a couple more hours of sleep.

She had already started to doze again when she felt a blanket being laid over her. She opened her eyes as Thule placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Hey," he said, "What are you doing out here?"

"You're a bed hog," she said, "There wasn't room for all three of us."

"Sorry," said Thule with a half smile, "I didn't expect it to work out that way. Maya's gone now. Come back to bed."

"I'm fine here," she murmured, snuggling deeper into the blanket.

Thule shrugged, "Suit yourself. I'm going to have time for breakfast before my meeting today. Get some sleep. I'll wake you for it later."

True to his word, Thule woke her a little bit later. The sky was blue now, "Get dressed," he said, "We're going down to the restaurant."

Knowing better than to argue, Marigold got up and headed for the shower. Soon, she was clean, dressed, and freshly coiffed. Thule was dressed as he had been pretty much all weekend. Almost as soon as they had ordered breakfast, Thule 's cell phone rang. Plugging one finger in his ear, he still had to shout to be heard over the crowd. Finally, he cupped the phone, "I'll be back in a second."

As Thule left the restaurant, Paul passed him in the doorway. When he saw Marigold, he waved.  She had no choice but to wave back.

"Having breakfast alone?" he asked.

"No," said Marigold, " Thule just had to step out for a phone call."

Paul smiled ruefully, "Who?"

"Bart," said Marigold, remembering what she'd told Paul, " Thule is an old nickname of his from high school."

"Well," he said, "give him my regards." As he walked away, Marigold felt like she had dodged a bullet.

"So," Thule asked when he came back to the table, "Who was that?"

"Who was who?" Marigold asked disingenuously.

"The tall sandy-haired man you waved to and chatted with briefly," said Thule .

"Oh," said Marigold, trying to be nonchalant, "That's Paul. He's from Australia ."

"Hmmm," said Thule , "I presume that you know that because he just walked up to the table and said, 'Hello. I'm Paul from Australia .'"

"I met him while I was swimming yesterday," said Marigold. For some reason, she could not resist the urge to taunt Thule a little, "He wanted to buy me a drink."

"And, did he buy you a drink?" asked Thule .

For some reason, Marigold hadn't anticipated that question. By the time she said, "no," the pause had been too long to mean anything but, "yes." So, she added, "What do you care? After summer, you and I are never going to see each other anyway. You're obviously making plans to get on with your life."

Thule didn't answer. He watched her and cracked his knuckles.

"Besides," she blurted out, "You never forbade me to speak to other men."

"No," he said, "That's true. I guess I can only expect you to do what I tell you."

The silence between them was heavy, broken only by the waitress bringing their food. Finally, Marigold sought to break it, "So, what was the phone call about?"

"My potential partners from yesterday's meeting," said Thule , "They talked over the proposals I put on the table yesterday and don't think they can go with any of them."

"So, that's it?" asked Marigold.

"There's still today's meeting," said Thule , "Different possible client. But, it's pretty much my last lead."

"I hope you got enough sleep," said Marigold.

Thule 's fork paused over breakfast, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Marigold shrugged, "Just that we had a late night--and you were up awfully early this morning. I think you're starting to get dark circles under your eyes."

Thule grunted, "Did you sleep well? I woke up and you were gone."

"I woke once or twice during the night," Marigold said, oh so casually.

Thule leaned in, "Don't fuck with me, Marigold."

There was so much menace in his voice that Marigold almost recanted. She was in no position to be adversarial. But, instead, she heard herself saying, "Why not? I thought that was what you wanted from me?"

The rest of the meal passed in relative silence. When Thule finished eating, he said, "Make sure you have everything packed and in the car by one. My meeting should be over by then and we need to check out. Meet me back here once you're done."

"And, am I forbidden to speak to other men while you're gone?" Marigold asked, fluttering her eyelashes.

Thule stood up abruptly, "Do whatever the hell you want."