Triad
By Gato Medio

Fifth Chapter: Crime and Punishment

Cathy and I were fast asleep when Helen arrived with our
breakfast.

Yawning and rubbing my eyes, I reflected on how our daily
routine had changed since Helen had arrived in our house.

In the old days - the period before Helen seemed to
belong into some prior existence, and meeting her had
been the start of a new era - in the old days, most of
our lovemaking took place in bed, at night. Sometimes it
would go on into the small hours of the morning, and we
would be tired for the rest of the following day. Now,
when we finally fell into our bed, exhausted, all we
could think of was to get as many hours of energy-
restoring sleep as possible. Our sex happened all over
the house, very rarely in our bed, and hardly ever during
the night.

Helen was wearing a loose T-shirt and a pair of shorts.
Her outfit was conservative compared to what she had been
wearing on her previous early-morning stunts as our
servant. Years of practice allowed me to detect quite
clearly the gentle bounce of her breasts beneath the T-
shirt. I could see her nipples rub against the thin
textile as she moved, and my mind's eye had a very clear
picture of what was hidden inside those tight shorts. But
I couldn't help feeling disappointed that I no longer had
an unobstructed view of those beautiful breasts, the
perfectly rounded cheeks of her bottom, and the inviting
lips of her pussy.

Helen's outfit reminded me that this was the last day of
the ALT-conference, the event which was responsible for
the three of us meeting. Maybe she planned to attend
today's session?

As I had done every morning, I offered to drive Helen
downtown. I said I could either pick her up at an
appointed time, or stay there until she was done for the
day. I didn't exactly want her to go, but I thought I
owed it to her. It was what we had promised when we
persuaded her to stay with us.

                         -----

Helen never went back to the conference. The only time
she attended any session was to accompany Cathy and me
when we gave our short talk - to 'lend moral support',
and to make sure it really was a short talk. She showed
no interest in attending any of the other sessions.
"Staying with you guys is a lot more educational than
discussing the theory and practice of translation," she
had said on the few occasions when I brought up the
subject.

Helen knew how to interpret my searching eyes and my
roaming mind.

"I won't be able to stay with you forever," she
explained. "The two of you will have to learn to manage
without me."

It was clear that she wasn't referring to her daily
breakfast service, but to the sex lessons which had
filled most of the last few days.

"You'll have to get used to enjoying yourselves on your
own. You'll have to become self-sufficient - or look for
other partners to whom you can teach what you've learnt.
The conference ends today. My return flight is tomorrow
morning," Helen confirmed my worst fears.

Cathy, who had woken up in the meantime, joined me in my
attempts to persuade Helen not to leave us so soon, to
stay just a little longer.

"There isn't anything you can do in Australia that you
couldn't do here. You're planning to go back to
California in any case. Why don't you stay here until you
make that trip?"

I supported Cathy, offering Helen unrestricted use of our
telephone and our computer.

Helen hesitated. "But I need a computer that can handle
Chinese characters."

"That shouldn't be any problem. Our Computer has a lot
more horsepower than we need. We can partition it. One
half speaks English, the other half Mandarin."

That convinced her. We partitioned the PC's hard disk so
Helen could install the Chinese language software in one
half. Helen insisted that we protect our part of the
computer with a password to keep her from accidentally
opening files we didn't want her to see. I didn't see any
need for this, but agreed, just to make her feel more
comfortable.

As a consequence, Helen also needed to establish a
password for her half of the computer. She wanted to tell
me what it was, but when I saw that it was a sequence of
those complicated squiggles which pass for characters in
some parts of the world, I didn't really want to know.

                         -----

"What happened? Did Cathy finally leave you?"

That was Bill's reaction when I told him that the poker
round which had been scheduled for the following day
would be at my place. Cathy had gone to buy a few things
for the snacks she would serve us, and Helen was busy
installing the Chinese language software on our computer.
I was using the break in my training program to phone the
members of the poker round and let them know the good
news.

"No, she's seen reason," I answered. "She's even agreed
to apologize for her unfriendly behavior towards you
guys." That was all I was going to reveal. I wanted the
form this apology would take to come as a surprise to my
friends. I was really looking forward to seeing their
faces when they met the 'new' Cathy. That part of the
evening had become more important to me than the poker
game itself.

The others reacted in similar fashion. Tim was concerned
about my relationship with Cathy. "You didn't force her,
did you? Sometimes women react really badly when they're
pushed into doing something they don't want to do."

I assured him that I hadn't put any pressure on Cathy.
"There's this friend of ours who made her see the light,"
I explained. I wasn't sure whether this was an apt
description of what Helen had done to Cathy to persuade
her. "And afterwards Cathy agreed that she has behaved
like a bitch towards me and my friends."

Cathy offered to cook something special for me and my
'cavemen friends'. She is an excellent cook and I am sure
she would have produced a memorable meal, but I reminded
her that the main purpose of our get-together was to play
poker. "When we get hungry, we want to eat something
without interrupting the game. That's how the sandwich
was invented in the first place. So why don't you stick
to sandwiches? Everybody else does."

                         -----

When I had finished my phone calls and Cathy had returned
from her shopping trip, Helen also reappeared from the
office where she had been busy at the computer.

"Right, guys," she said. "What exactly did you expect to
get out of it when you persuaded me to stay on? I suppose
you didn't just want to talk about literature over a cup
of coffee. So, you, Stan, what are your expectations?"

Sometimes her directness could be disconcerting, but
Helen was right, of course. The way both Cathy and I had
begged her to stay, left no doubt that we expected to
benefit from her presence in our house. And by the same
token, this had given her power over us. She could order
us to do whatever she wanted.

What could I answer? Should I be just as direct and say,
'I want to make love to you at least once a day, every
day until the end of my life'? That was what I felt like.
But how would Cathy react to such a declaration?

Helen seemed to be less available to me now than she had
been on the evening she arrived at our house. Her new
attire, although casual by most people's standards, hid
her beauty except for her stunning legs. Quite possibly,
this only served to increase my desire for her.

I decided to keep my answer vague. "I want you to teach
me how to be a better lover. I want to be able to satisfy
even the most demanding women," I said, thinking of the
two sexy creatures right in front of me. As soon as I had
said it, I realized that this would mean more hours of
agony, having my balls trapped in Helen's devilish
device, being excited as hell but unable to get relief.

"Alright. How about you, Cathy?"

Cathy didn't have to think twice. "I want to experience
an orgasm as intense as yours was when I whipped you. I
want to learn to derive pleasure from pain. Tie me up,
whip me, clamp my nipples, torture me, do anything you
want, just make me come that hard."

I was shell-shocked. If ever there was such a thing as a
blank check, Cathy had just signed it.

"And," Cathy continued, "I want Stan to fuck me every day
the way he did last night."

That put the ball back into my court.

                         -----

Following Helen's instructions, Cathy got down on all
fours and stuck her ass invitingly up in the air. After
lubricating Cathy's rear and my cock, Helen told me to
fuck my wife's ass. "Give her as good as you can. Don't
hold back," she encouraged me.

I drove my cock into Cathy's rear and she pushed back at
me. It seemed that she had taken a liking to being
entered by the back door. Her rear was so wonderfully
tight, my cock was free from any impediments, and I was
confident that I would be able to fuck Cathy the way she
deserved.

But it was all too much for me. Seeing Cathy crouch so
obediently in front of me, feeling the tightness of her
ass, being able to knead her full breasts with my hands
and hearing her encouraging moans made me lose control
far too soon. My cock refused to obey my instructions to
take it easy. It twitched, it trembled, it throbbed, and
finally I spurted my seed into Cathy's rectum.

"Some improvement, but still a long way to go," was
Helen's dry comment. I almost got the impression that she
had timed my effort. "Further intensive training
required. Back to the drawing board."

I knew that the 'drawing board' in this case meant the
torture chamber, the by now familiar position, pinned
with my back to the wall. The 'drawing board' also meant
the harness around my cock and balls, the device I
remembered so painfully well from the day before.

Helen stroked my cock until it was fully erect again,
then she turned me over to Cathy. "He's all yours. Show
him how you feel about his denial of service."

As Cathy licked my cock, I had the impression she was
getting expert at this. The way she wrapped her tongue
around my shaft, the way she circled the head of my
prick, the way she lapped at my balls - it all felt so
tantalizingly good. Did Cathy do this because she wanted
to please me, or did she do it because she wanted to
drive me insane? Should I be grateful to her for the
undeniable pleasure or should I curse her for tormenting
me like this?

                         -----

Fortunately, Cathy wasn't able to dedicate herself
entirely to torturing me. Helen was waiting to attend to
Cathy's request for pain and pleasure. When I wasn't
subjected to her rapidly improving stimulation skills, I
could watch Cathy being on the receiving end of Helen's
attacks.

It started quite innocently. Helen watched Cathy lick and
suck my cock for a while. Then she got something from one
of the shelves. She knelt behind Cathy and asked, "You
liked his cock in your ass, didn't you?"

Cathy nodded.

"But you wanted a little more action back there, didn't
you?"

Cathy nodded again.

That was the start signal for Helen's attack. She pushed
a large vibrator into Cathy's rear and turned it to
maximum speed. Cathy let go of my cock and tried to turn
around to see what had hit her. But Helen pushed her back
down. "Keep sucking him," she ordered. "I'll take care of
your rear."

On my cock I could feel the effect the vibrator had on
Cathy. She all but stopped stimulating me, just keeping
my hardness in her mouth. Her breathing accelerated as
Helen used her free hand to rub Cathy's clit. Cathy let
go of my cock as her orgasm ripped through her body.

But that was only the beginning. Helen must have used
just about every gadget in her arsenal of torture
instruments on Cathy. There were times when Cathy was
suspended from the ceiling, her entire body was
crisscrossed with ropes. The ropes bent her, stretched,
her, cut into her sex, encircled her full breasts and
made her whimper in pain.

Every so often Helen would untie Cathy and order her to
work on my excitement. Cathy would use her hands and
mouth, even the cleavage between her full breasts, to
stimulate my cock until I was ready to beg for mercy. The
only thing which kept me from going insane was the
certainty that I would eventually be released and that my
orgasm would probably be as mind-blowing as it had been
the day before.

At one point, Helen left Cathy and me in the torture-
chamber while she went 'to get some work done', as she
told us. I continued in my customary position and Cathy
was dangling belly down from the ceiling, held aloft by
ropes around her wrists and ankles. We both wondered
aloud how long Helen was going to leave us on our own,
immobilized.

                         -----

When Helen woke us the next morning, she reminded both
Cathy and me that this was the day of the poker round -
as if such a reminder were necessary!

Once more I saw the shape of Helen's breasts under her T-
shirt. Once more I spotted the exact points where her
nipples rubbed against the textile. Once more I saw a
clear image of her hairless pussy in front of my eyes.
And once more I asked myself whether the days when I was
able to get an unobstructed view of these treasures, when
I was allowed to touch them, had definitely gone.

"I've got a special treat for you today," Helen
announced.

It took me a while to realize that she wasn't talking
about breakfast.

"We won't do anything heavy today," Helen clarified.
"I'll give you both a massage, and then I'll let you try
it out on each other."

"You mean like in those sleazy massage parlors where the
girls do everything the customer wants?" Cathy asked,
full of expectation.

"Not exactly. The technique I'll teach you does not
necessarily lead to sex. It's very subtle and very
sensual."

And, boy, was it sensual! I can't describe what exactly
Helen did to me. All I can say is that she covered all
parts of my body, back and front, from head to toe. At
times, the touch of Helen's fingers on my skin was almost
imperceptible. But soon after, she seemed to be cutting
grooves into my back with her fingernails. The massage
created a general state of well-being. I had the feeling
that I could float if I wanted to.

After Helen had given me the full treatment, I watched
her massage Cathy who appreciated Helen's talent at least
as much as I had. Afterwards Cathy tried her skills on me
and finally it was my turn to return the favor to Cathy.
Helen taught us ways of touching each other we had never
tried out before, in places we had never thought could be
sexually stimulating. Cathy was full of praise, but I
considered my efforts clumsy in comparison with Helen's
subtle dexterity.

Touching each other so gently and being touched so
sensually, left Cathy and me in a state of serious
arousal. We were ready for a bout of passionate
lovemaking and were thinking of a way to get Helen
involved as well, but Helen wouldn't allow it. "You need
to be fresh and alert in the evening," she stated, and
suggested we take a cold shower - separately.

The cold shower reduced my interest in sex only for a
short time and had hardly any effect on Cathy. The
massage had left her all frisky. As she busied herself in
the kitchen, I could hear her say repeatedly, "I need a
fuck, I want a cock in my cunt." Cathy had definitely
changed a lot since Helen had entered our lives. But I
couldn't decide whether Helen's influence had changed
Cathy into a different person, or whether it had only
helped the real Cathy to come out.

I didn't know the answer to that question, but I had no
reason to complain either way. I would have loved to
satisfy Cathy's desire for a cock, but Helen's watchful
eye did not give us a chance.

Cathy followed my suggestion to stick to sandwiches, but
she wanted to make the evening of her public punishment a
memorable occasion and prepared as many different types
of sandwiches as she could think of.

There were bagels with smoked salmon and cream cheese
lying peacefully next to middle-eastern pita bread
pockets filled with char-broiled vegetables. There were
_ciabatta_ sandwiches with Parma ham, mozzarella and sun-
dried tomatoes, tortilla wraps filled with a spicy bean
mixture, along with the traditional turkey and cranberry
sauce and roast beef and horseradish sandwiches. Some of
Cathy's creations were not sandwiches in a strict sense,
but they satisfied the requirement that they could be
eaten with one hand without interrupting the card game.

Cathy also made sure that there was plenty of beer
chilling in the fridge and kept a supply of more bottles
handy for restocking.

More than an hour before our guests were due to arrive,
Cathy changed into her punishment outfit. As I watched
her strut about in her skimpy skirt, I remembered Cathy's
confession that she would be willing to work as a hooker
for Helen if Helen were to ask her. This was probably how
she would be dressed when she went out looking for
customers. I was sure she would attract men like flies.

To my own dismay, the thought didn't upset me. I didn't
feel jealous or morally outraged. I even fantasized about
being one of her customers, about Cathy taking me to her
room in a dingy back-street hotel, about her getting
undressed and letting me fuck her - having received her
payment up front, of course.

When the doorbell rang, Cathy was at the door in a dash.
She didn't give me a chance to get there first and maybe
give my friends some advance warning. They were hit by
the full impact of the 'new' Cathy right at the doorstep.
The worst thing was that I wasn't always able to see
their faces when they first set eyes on Cathy.

I only got to see them when they had passed the small
entrance hall. They were quite obviously bursting to ask
me what had brought about this radical change, but didn't
want to do so in Cathy's presence. However, I could read
the questions on their faces as they grimaced and pointed
at Cathy with the movement of their eyes.

I didn't say a word. I restricted myself to grimacing
back and shrugging my shoulders. The meaning I tried to
get across was, "Hell, I'll be damned if I understand
women!"

Helen had decided to keep out of sight. She figured that
her presence would only complicate things or distract
from Cathy's sacrifice, and we both agreed. So there was
just Cathy, me and the gradually increasing number of
poker players.

While we were waiting for the laggards to arrive, Cathy
made sure we were looked after as far as liquid
refreshments were concerned and engaged in small talk
with those who had already arrived. She asked about their
wives and wanted to know how their day had been. She even
remembered the names of Hank's twins.

After everybody had arrived and we were settling down at
the poker table to start our game, Cathy walked around
the table and occasionally bent down as if she were
picking up something from the floor. It took me a while
to understand what she was doing, because I couldn't see
anything that needed picking up.

The Cathy who didn't want my friends to peek at her pussy
'with their greedy eyes', the one who had only agreed to
appear without panties because of the pain Helen had
inflicted on her, had apparently taken the day off. At
least, I couldn't see her anywhere. The Cathy who was in
evidence wanted to make sure that all my friends knew she
wasn't wearing any panties. She did her picking-up-things-
which-don't-exist performance so that all my friends had
a chance to see her panty-less bottom - and probably
more.

I saw the expressions of disbelief on my friends' faces,
but this time they didn't turn to me, looking for an
explanation. They probably thought that I might get upset
if I knew what they had seen, so they tried to hide their
surprise and excitement from me.

When I met Cathy, almost ten years ago, I had considered
her interest in me a stroke of undeserved luck. I had
always been proud of my conquest. The fact that a woman
like Cathy had chosen to stay with me proved that I was
one hell of a guy. But I had never felt that I owned
Cathy; I was never sure how long our relationship would
last. My feelings were reinforced by my friends who
called me admiringly a 'lucky bastard'. The two who knew
about my affair with Julie also called me a 'dumb fool'
because they thought there was a risk that Cathy might
find out and leave me.

That evening was the first time I felt something like
pride of ownership. 'Look what a fantastic guy I am,' my
face seemed to say, 'Not only can I attract a classy lady
like Cathy, I can have her dance to my whistle.'

During the game, Cathy stayed in the background but was
always there when someone needed a beer. She would stand
right next to the player when she poured the beer in his
glass. Cathy had insisted that we drink from glasses. On
previous evenings at our house I had simply put the long
neck bottles on the table to save me having to wash
glasses afterwards. The way she stood there, almost
rubbing her bare thighs against the player's biceps,
invited his free hand to slide up her legs underneath her
skirt.

The first one Cathy played her trick on was Eddy. She
probably assumed that he, not being married, needed a
little excitement and didn't need to worry about
upsetting his wife. But as everybody else got thirsty,
they also were subjected to Cathy's temptation.

I noticed that my friends were tempted, but reluctant.
They were probably worried about my reaction, in case I
noticed. I saw them check to see if I was watching.

With them, I could use the technique which had failed so
miserably with Cathy: Pretending not to be watching while
I observed what was going on. As the evening went on,
they became more and more daring. My friends really did
believe that I was absorbed with studying my hand as I
saw their hands disappear under Cathy's tiny skirt. I
could tell from Cathy's face that my friends' fingers
left her even more aroused than she had been before.

The only thing that might have given me away was my huge
erection, but that was safely hidden beneath the table.
Cathy told me afterwards that I hadn't been the only one
with a raging hard-on. As the evening went on and my
friends had had a few drinks, they were quite openly
fingering Cathy's pussy and she was wriggling her ass and
swooning with delight.

Cathy's presence, her attire, and her willingness to let
them feel her up had a negative effect on my friends'
ability to concentrate on the game. I won most of the
hands, probably because I was the least distracted. I
wondered briefly whether my friends would accuse me of
having organized Cathy's show to distract them and help
me win. But that sounded too much like an old black-and-
white gangster movie. And besides, the money I took off
them was barely enough to buy a couple of fancy coffees
in one of those fashionable outlets which were springing
up all over town.

But even though the amounts were small, being on a losing
streak reduced my friends' interest in the card game. Or
maybe they wanted to get home early to find an outlet for
their excitement. Whatever the reason, the poker game
ended much earlier than usual.

As the players were getting ready to leave, Cathy took
center stage.

"There's just one more thing I need to tell you, guys,"
she started. "I want you to know that I feel really
terrible about having treated you with so much hostility
in the past. I know, my behavior was inexcusable, and
it's really important to me to know that you've forgiven
me."

Bill, Hank, Eddy and Tim all assured her that they
understood that it wasn't always easy to put up with a
bunch of rough-necks. They told her how pleased they were
about her changed attitude and guaranteed that they
didn't bear any grudges.

Cathy wasn't finished. "That's very kind of you, guys.
But sometimes words aren't enough. I'll only know that
there aren't any bad feelings when you've given me a
thorough spanking for my misdeeds - each one of you. I've
behaved like a spoilt brat and I deserve to be treated
like one."

Cathy ignored the look of disbelief on their faces. She
stepped out of her skirt and bent right over the poker
table. Cathy's brusque move made her ample breasts spill
out of her bra and blouse. They came to rest on top of
the last hand of cards we had played. "All you have to
do, is decide who goes first. But remember: it's
considered impolite to let a lady wait."

In their confusion, my friends looked at me, expecting
some guidance on what to do.

"Well, I guess what she means is that you have to decide
whether you want to do it in alphabetical order by name,
by age, or whether you want to draw lots," I clarified,
feeling like a spanking-coach.

My matter-of-fact advice startled them even more. Was I
seriously suggesting that they should spank my wife's
bare bottom for her past sins? Wouldn't I be mad at them
in the morning when I had sobered up?

Bill was the first one to overcome his indecision. "Well,
if it's by name, then I come first. If it's by age, then
I also come first, because I'm the oldest one around
here."

He stepped forward and smacked Cathy's left bottom cheek.
The loud noise the slap produced surprised everybody. I
could see Cathy clench her teeth to avoid making a sound.
The five fingers of Bob's hand were clearly marked on her
pale skin. As she looked at me lovingly, I could sense
her saying, "Look what I'm letting them do to me, just
because I love you, darling."

Bill proceeded to mark her right cheek with his five
fingers just as he had marked the left one. He didn't
stop there. Soon there were no longer any distinguishable
marks as pink blotches covered Cathy's bottom.

Seeing how well Cathy took her punishment, without making
a single sound, encouraged the others. Eddy was next,
followed by Hank - it seemed they had settled on doing it
by name. I don't think any of them hit Cathy with his
full strength, but I could see tears streaming down her
face, rolling onto the tablecloth. Watching my wife being
punished like this was one of the most exciting scenes
I've witnessed in my whole life.

The last one to spank Cathy would be Timothy. He is the
social conscience of the group. He always talks about
behaving responsibly, treating everybody with the respect
they deserved. He couldn't hurt a fly, let alone an
attractive woman.

"Are you sure you really want this?" he asked Cathy.

Cathy didn't feel like talking. Her voice might betray
her suffering. She nodded.

"Or has Stan threatened you? Has he forced you to agree?"

Cathy lost her patience. "For Christ's sake, just go and
spank my goddamned ass," she shouted at him. "What are
you, a man or a mouse?"

That did it. Not only had Cathy stated quite clearly that
she wanted to be spanked, she had cast doubt on his
manliness. I had never thought Tim was capable of hitting
a woman this hard.

Cathy cringed as his firm hand hit her tender backside,
but took her punishment with a stoicism which surprised
me. (Tim regretted his behavior soon afterwards. The next
morning Cathy received a large bunch of flowers with his
apologies.)

After the four had administered the spanking Cathy had
asked for, I accompanied them to the door. When I
returned, Cathy hadn't moved. She still lay bent over the
table, her bottom sticking invitingly into the air.

"Fuck me, Stan," she begged. "Fuck me hard. I'm so hot, I
need your cock, and I need it now."

I didn't need a second invitation. I almost fell as I
tried to take off my trousers while I rushed towards her.
I plunged my rock-hard cock into her pussy. She was so
wet, I was certain that she had already spotted the
tablecloth. Any thoughts of letting Cathy feel a fifth
hand on her bottom were forgotten. I just wanted to fuck
this wonderful woman who had endured her punishment so
bravely, who had driven me and my friends wild with her
lewd behavior.

To my great delight, my cock didn't let me down. I could
feel the spasms of Cathy's orgasm and continued to drive
my cock into her. After she had come for the second time,
I suggested we'd move to a more comfortable place. As I
picked up Cathy to carry her to the living room, I saw
Helen standing next to the poker table, watching us and
nodding approvingly.

Cathy whimpered as her bottom made contact with the
carpet, but she soon forgot her pain when she caught
sight of my still rock-hard dick. "Come on, caveman," she
encouraged me. "Fuck me. Fuck me hard."

I kissed the tears off her face as I thrust into her,
fucking her as mercilessly as she had asked for. I felt
like shouting for joy as a third orgasm ripped through
Cathy and my cock was still rock-hard. When Cathy
climaxed for the fourth time, I let go. I opened the
floodgates and let my semen splash into my deeply
satisfied wife.

                    To be continued