Chapter 12

January 20^th, 2007, Friday

Dommi

Their meal was lovely, and most amazingly, Eddie behaved himself, and there was no further griping. He even managed to be charming, and Dommi was reminded why Tamara and his ladies were so enamored of him.

“So, we go in,” she said while they sipped their after-dinner coffee, “we meet and greet, and settle in. Kendry, do you mind acting as messenger, asking House Vincente for an audience?”

“Yes, Mistress, I do mind. I’m security. I don’t leave my client if at all avoidable.”

“Fair enough. I’m sure Sebastien has someone we can send. Hopefully, Vincente agrees to meet. We go visit with them, once again hopefully things go well, we get the help we need, and then we enjoy the rest of our evening.”

“I don’t suppose there’s any chance once we have some sort of answer from Vincente, we can just come back to the hotel?” Eddie asked, a smile on his face, his voice pleasant.

“We could,” Dommi replied, “but it would not be diplomatic to do so.”

“Of course,” Eddie replied, and sipped his coffee.

“Now it’s my turn, Mistress, Master...” Kendry said. “If I perceive a threat, we’re out of there, and I don’t care how many feelings – or locals - get hurt in the process. Even with Carlos as backup, and Master Sebastien’s people, I’m not confident I can get the two of you out of a situation by any other tactic than running for it. So, if I say ‘run’, run we will, yes?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “You’re in charge.”

“I know it irks you to say so,” Kendry said. “I appreciate it. Mistress?”

“I’m all for running away from danger,” Dommi said, “especially if it’s not our home ground.

“Now, once we get back to our room,” Dommi continued, “Kendry dear, I gather you’re not bisexual, so would you prefer I wait in the sitting room while you fuck Eddie’s brains out, or join you in doing so, just on the other side of the bed?”

While Eddie blushed, Kendry replied, “The other side of the bed is fine, Mistress. It’s a situation I’m very used to.”

“Perhaps some late night room service before we retire for the evening?” Dommi said.

“I think that would be lovely, don’t you, Eddie?” Kendry replied.

“Lovely, yeah,” he muttered, still blushing.

Galena

“Am I putting on weight?” she asked, standing before their mirror.

“At the risk of a beating, Mistress,” Martha said, “you do seem to be developing a little arm-chair spread.”

“I think you can stand to put on a little weight, Mistress,” Patrick said. “And if it doesn’t agree with you, some time in the gym would remedy the situation.”

“You’re filling out a bit, Mama G,” Reggie said. “I think it’s yummy. Put a pretty little belly pooch in-between the pretty everything else, put a little more mass in that ass.”

“Thanks, Reggie,” Galena replied, smiling. “Resolved, I won’t worry about it, especially not tonight.”

She turned to look at the choices Andrea had laid out on the bed.

“Not the white ... Chats is already going to be wearing white, and compared to her, I’d look like an ‘also ran’. The black ... no, I’m not feeling it.”

“I think you’d look stunning in the red shorts with the suspenders, Mistress,” Javier said.

“What would I wear on top?”

“We do have those red leather pasties...”

“Sounds good. Andrea, love your boot choices, all of them ... the black five-inch heels, the one with buckles. Balance out the black with that thick black studded choker...”

“And a whip at your hip, Mistress?” Patrick asked hopefully.

“Yes, boy ... and the whip.”

Jess

Wendy was tending to her enema in anticipation of getting pegged that evening. Jess already knew how she was dressing their little girl, so all that was left to do was argue with Quan about what the two of them were wearing.

“I am not wearing that,” Quan snapped.

“I’m not wearing that...” Jess said.

“Mistress ... I’m not wearing that, Mistress.”

“You know, you’re right, Quan, you’re not. This evening you’re wearing your nipple clamps – tight – and a tight little clit clamp as well. Oh, and the red flashing butt plug. A collar, a chain ... that Wendy will be managing.”

“And?”

“No ‘and’, that’s it. Period. Or, I can put you in the stocks and leave you home.”

“Better than going out dressed like that...”

“And when we get home tonight, I’ll have every swinging dick I can find, including Wendy’s, up your ass all night long...”

The silence stretched between them.

“Nothing to say, little slut?”

“No, Mistress. I’ll dress as you say.”

“I thought you might. Really, slut, you need to quit thinking you can top me...”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Now go clean yourself out. In case the mood strikes me, I want your ass clean.”

“Yes, Mistress,” Quan replied sullenly, heading for the bathroom.

“Wendy darling,” Jessica called, “you almost finished?”

“Yes, Mistress,” Wendy replied. “About to release my final rinse.”

“Good, I need your help choosing what to wear.”

In the end, Jess and Wendy agreed on Jess’s tan gladiator outfit – a pteruges – a leather-plate skirt, thigh-high leather strap sandals, studded shoulder pads, spiked leather armor down her right arm, and a leather halter top.

While the ‘gladiator’ fetish was primarily a male thing, Jess found it suited her, and had purchased the parts and put the outfit together several weeks prior as a Christmas present to herself. It would be her first time to wear it out in public, and evidently Wendy could tell she was a bit nervous.

“Mistress, it will be fine. You’ve been working out – while you’re still deliciously curvy, there is real muscle there. You look stunning ... doesn’t she, Quan?”

“Yes, you do look stunning, Mistress. Would you reconsider my outfit for toni-”

“No. You’re not getting off that lightly, Quan. Now shut up again.”

Quan nodded and continued with her enema.

“We’re a pretty fucked-up trio, aren’t we?” Jess murmured to Wendy.

“Yeah ... yeah, you could say that, Mistress. But it works for us, so I’m not inclined to find fault.”

Lori

She and Magda were at the Corral, overseeing the redecoration of the houses in Margo’s in-town nest. They’d considered going back to Chorale South to clean up, dress up, and go out that evening, but both of them had decided they were simply too damn tired.

While they couldn’t touch Carol’s home – and given what they understood of her planned décor, they didn’t want to – they were making their mark, and their place, in every other home in the neighborhood.

The twanging guitar riff from Johnny Cash’s “I Walk The Line” played from Lori’s phone, and she checked the caller ID ... and answered the call from her father.

“Daddy? Hello...”

“Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?”

“Good, but exhausting.”

“Gonna be worth it though, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. Carol may be the ruler of her Moroccan wonderland, but Magda and I will be in charge of the rest.”

“Good ... the two of you need a place, and I think you’ve found a good one. Listen, formal notice will be going out tonight, but I wanted to give you a head’s up. We’re pulling the Karghold’s children out of the Chorale school.”

“But why, Daddy?”

“Thad may have had the charisma – and political clout – to keep the Hold in line under those circumstances. I don’t have the charisma, and I choose to use my political clout elsewhere.”

“But Daddy...”

“The decision is made, little girl.”

Lori closed her eyes and took two deep breaths.

“Yes, Daddy. I understand. Thank you for warning me.”

“Love you, sugar plum.”

“Love you too, Daddy.”

The call ended, and Lori kept her eyes closed, working her jaw.

“Problems, sister-wife?” Magda asked.

“Sorta-kinda yes. Get up, we’re heading back, cleaning up, and going to Dominique’s.”

Thad

Alan had called and told him the news.

He wished he hadn’t seen it coming, but he knew Alan’s views, as well as how much opposition there was to the idea in the rest of the Hold.
The call to Margo had been short, and full of profanity on her end ... which was to be expected.

None of it helped the very real headache he had, a headache begun by dead ends in the search for the Nelson family. Thad knew Li Kuan was out there somewhere, but she hadn’t called him with any updates.

On the other hand, Kjirsten was proving to be invaluable helping with the forensic accounting, so there was good news there.

Simon Nelson had been fucking his own family over every bit as hard as he fucked everyone else. The profits of Nelson Endeavors were considerably more than he’d been reporting to Nelson Holdings, and he’d been lying to the IRS as well.

That worried Thad more than he cared to admit. Tax trouble was something he definitely didn’t want to deal with, and he resolved to turn the lawyers loose on the problem on Monday. If Nelson Endeavors and the IRS could come to some sort of arrangement as to paying the tax debt off, he’d breathe a lot easier.

In the meantime, those skimmed profits had been one of the primary sources of financing for the illegal businesses Simon Nelson had been neck-deep, or deeper, in.

Sooner or later, his former partners were going to become a problem – he’d known that for quite some time.

And he still had no idea how he was going to deal with them when that moment arrived.

Magda

When they reached Chorale South, they ran through the house, snagging subs as they went.

“Get us showered, get us dressed, get us in the car on the way to Dominique’s,” Magda panted. “Have Daniella and the rest already left?”

“Yes, Milady,” Suze said, trotting alongside her. “You probably passed each other on the freeway.”

“Listen,” Lori said, “I need one of you to split off, and ask if we can meet with Kissie in the breakfast nook in ... fifteen minutes.”

“I’m off, Milady,” Frederick said, turning back toward the kitchen.

Magda heard the shower in their private bath turn on, and started peeling her clothes off.

“So, we’re building a school for ... well, mostly ... students who won’t be here after this weekend...”

“Yes, Mama Kissie,” Magda replied. “And while I’m sure Lori’s father had no wish for this, we’re going to suffer a big drop in confidence among Society. It won’t be rational, it’ll be emotional, and we all know which wins most of the time.”

“Do you have a plan, darling?” Kissie asked.

“I ... whoa ... I have a plan, but I don’t know if it’s a good one.”

“Out with it, we need to get to Dominique’s quick, try to minimize the impact...”

“You’re going with us?”

“Yes, I am ... hell, tell me the plan on the way. Earl! Come on, time to get me ready to go out!“

“So, Papa Earl’s okay with not going to Dominique’s?” Magda asked as they finally got on their way into town.

“Honey, he acknowledges that even though his blood pressure is under control, it’s highly probable he would literally pop if he went there. Now, this does sadden me somewhat, as I know if he did, he’d have erection fuel enough to keep both of us very happy for quite some time.

“Not to say I’m unsatisfied, because I’m not, but there’s ‘satisfied’ and ‘good Lord, man, go take a cold shower and leave me be’.”

The three women laughed for a few moments. When they settled back down, Magda said, “Okay, so I have this plan ... we open as a boarding school for any and all Society children. Now, we were doing a version of that, and thinking of expanding more once we were handling kids from the Karghold, Sandalwood, a few others successfully. Now we just go more widespread, as more beds are suddenly available. We sell the shit out of idea by setting it up that students are home every other weekend, and holidays. The kids are safe, parents can come visit on the weekends away if they wish, but otherwise, we’re giving Society’s parents license to fly their freak flag however the fuck they want every other weekend. We make sure the school ends up separate from the mansion, and the other Chorale South facilities, everybody breathes a little easier.

“But spinning the departure of the Karghold’s children has to be done, and it has to be done starting tonight.”

“It’s unfortunate, but look at the opportunities it provides for the rest of local Society,” Margaret said. “We regret the Karghold’s decision...”

Margaret paused, looking thoughtful.

“What?” Magda asked.

“We could ... throw the Hold under the bus, to some degree. Not too badly, I wouldn’t want to damage the relationship we still have, but...”

“Bad idea,” Lori said. “Not to rain on your parade, Mama Kissie, but my father doesn’t need any more fuel for the ‘break all ties with Chorale’ faction.”

“I was worried that might be the case,” Margaret replied. “It was a thought...”

“Would there be an issue selling it as the Hold’s ‘missed opportunity’?” Magda asked.

“I don’t think so ... they’ll look at as face-saving ... which isn’t far from the truth. The Karg understand saving face.”

Vida Newton

“If you’d let someone take a look at it, you’d know one way or another...”

“Pardon the fuck out of me, Al, if I don’t feel like getting poked and prodded right now,” Vida snarled.

“They’re not going to stop until you’re dethroned,” Alan Johengen said.

“I’m sure they won’t. How many of them are your creatures?”

“None of them, Vida. If I truly wanted you out of the picture, my daughter Rochelle would have trounced you out on your butt first goddamn day. Keep a civil tongue in your head, if you would, please.”

“Yes, Chieftain Johengen.”

She got up from the bench in the locker room, wincing at the pain in her side. Vida didn’t need anyone to ‘take a look’. She knew what cracked ribs felt like.

She stepped into the shower feeling every year of her age twice over, her body a dull canvas in shades of yellow, blue, black, and red.

Once the water was going, she stood under the scalding spray, letting it beat some life in, and some pain out.

Alan was right. The challenges weren’t going to stop coming, and sooner or later she’d lose. Vida was the proverbial lame duck, a Chieftess very few were invested in seeing continue in her role ... not that public support could do anything to protect her anyway.

So why not just resign, save herself some wear and tear?

“Fuck that noise,” she growled, picking up the soap.

Chatsirree

It would have been hard to miss all the men patrolling the outskirts of Dominique’s ... as well as men with rifles on the roof.

She wasn’t seeing anyone with a camera, though.

Once inside, she made her way to the bar, Jamnit on a leash beside her.

“Sinfonia, who’re the new guards?”

“A contingent from some of the Elder Houses, the ones who almost never show up here. They also bought the surrounding properties, so the only place any of our photographic fuckheads can go is on the sidewalks, and there they’ll be ... encouraged ... to move along.”

“Nice to have friends, huh?”

“Yeah, I suppose ... no, no it is nice to have them. But goddamn, Mistress Chatsirree, they’re a grim bunch. Seems these Elder Houses take the whole ‘keeping Society secret’ thing very seriously.”

“How long will they be keeping watch?”

“I was told ‘24/7 indefinitely’.”

“Day-um...”

“Indeed.”

Radio Free Mordor had the dance floor going, and after she dropped off their bag at the table, Chatsirree led Jamnit out to it. Daft Punk’s “One More Time” was playing, and she and her cousin danced like there was no one else on the floor, apparently completely focused on each other.

Chatsirree didn’t know if Jamnit was totally focused, but she herself was checking out the other dancers in her peripheral vision. Several lovely potential partners were out on the floor.

Half an hour later, they were back at the table, cooling off.

“The boys are on fire tonight, Mistress,” Jamnit said.

“And trying to kill us dancers,” Chatsirree agreed. She waved down a waitress. “More water, please,” she asked, pointing to the half-empty pitcher, “and a couple of Cosmos.”

“Right away, Mistress.”

“You do realize you’re driving my little girl here crazy,” Jess said. “Wendy, what would you do to please Mistress Chats, get a taste of what’s in that sweaty white leather?”

“Anything ... well, almost anything Mistress Chatsiree desires...”

“Well,” Chatsirree laughed, “let’s see what occurs to naughty me as the evening progresses.

“In the interim,” she continued, “Jamnit, go tease poor little Wendy. I’m assuming Wendy doesn’t have your permission to cum?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Jess said, shooting a warning glare Wendy’s way.

Daniella and her subs came off the dance floor glistening in the club’s lights.

“Water?” she croaked.

“More on its way,” Jess replied, pouring a tumbler full and handing it to her.

“Yum,” Galena purred, looking over Daniella’s subs. “Three beautiful hunks of marinating man-meat ... it’s a real pity you don’t share, Mistress Daniella.”

“Never been my thing. Possessive, territorial, combative, those are my things.”

“Goddamn shame, Mistress,” Reggie said.

Daniella’s three black Adonises were wearing black thong briefs, and – for the moment – nothing else. Daniella herself was dressed in a rather plain black corset, leather panties, and boots. Chatsirree didn’t find Daniella that attractive – too many hard lines and flat planes.

“Nothing to play with,” she muttered to herself, thankful to see their waitress returning with two large pitchers of icy water.

Jason

“Mithon accomplithed?”

“Yes indeed, Master,” Otter purred. “Lazy subbie bitches – and me – all very well pleasured.”

“Thank Go’,” he croaked, working his mouth. “Juice? Fruit?”

“The blood of your enemies should you so desire, Master,” Yin said, struggling to her feet.

“Kitchen staff should have something like that ready, Master,” Estrellita said, waving Yin on. “The juice, not the blood.”

“Okay...” Donna moaned. “Now I truly understand how worn out you get, husband.”

“It ithn’t eathy,” Abby agreed, using a towel to remove the glaze of fluid from her face.

Yan got up on one elbow.

“I haven’t eaten that much pussy in one sitting ... well, ever. Goddamn, you are some insatiable bitches.”

“YesweareMistrezz...” Lizzy moaned, from where she was slumped over several cushions, her delectable ass covered with bite marks.

“Lizzy, I think your Master needs to pee,” Otter growled.

Before she could say another word, Lizzy had rolled off the pillows, and was crawling into position.

“Yess...” she said, locking her lips around Jason’s cock.

“She’s blossoming nicely,” Otter said, standing up. “How much time should I give the rest of these sluts, Master?”

“As much as they’d like,” Jason replied. “It’s ‘Be Nice To Subbies’ day.”

Jason smiled at Otter’s growl as she headed for the bathroom.

“‘Llita, what’s for supper?”

“Tex-Mex, sir,” their chef replied.

“Damn, sounds yummy,” Jason said. “Is it too much to hope you have some black beans stewing?”

“Not too much to hope at all, sir. With garlic and ancho chiles.”

“You do know we love you for reasons other than your culinary skills?” Donna said.

“Yes, Milady, I know.”

Yin returned, with two of the kitchen crew, bearing pitchers of mango, apple, and pineapple juice, and platters of fruit.

“Oooh, raspberries!” Jason said, grabbing a handful. “I love them! They squirt when you bite them!”
“Just like Lizzy,” Abby said, grabbing some grapes.

“Any pear?” Nocturnia said, turning to face them.

“Alas, no,” Yin replied. “Would some papaya do?”

“In a pinch, yes,” Nocturnia said, struggling to sit up. “The only thing about civilization I’m missing right now is easy access to fresh fruit.”

“Oh, that could be provided,” Yan said. “Some pears are in season. Say the word, and we’ll have some flown in and delivered.”

“Like the phone was delivered?” Donna asked.

“Exactly.”

“Seems more than a little wasteful, Mistress,” Nocturnia replied. “I’ll pass.”

“You mean your grandmother would have pears flown to Hawaii...”

“Moloka’i.”

“To Moloka’i, then flown out and airdropped to us?” Jason finished.

“Jason, husband, think about what you just asked,” Yan said with a grin.

“Of course she would,” Jason said, shaking his head. “And be happy to do so...”

“Indeed, husband,” Yan said. “Probably ask if we wanted some fresh Yellowfin Ahi or Wagyu beef while we were at it.”

“It’s difficult, thinking on such a different scale, isn’t it, darling?” Donna said.

“Yeah ... yeah. Mom had a good job, but near the end of each pay cycle, we were still likely to be eating plainer, cheaper food. There are times I kind of miss Hamburger Helper...”

“And now, Master, I have tomorrow night’s supper...” Estrellita said.

“There’s actually something as mundane as Hamburger Helper on this boat?”

“No, but I’m quite sure you’ll enjoy my recreation of it, sir. Any particular flavor?”

“Uh ... potato stroganoff?”

“I think you’ll be delighted, sir.”

Jess

Quan was so incredibly uncomfortable it brought a warm glow to Jessica’s heart.

Effectively naked, and in pain, embarrassed and furious, Quan was still, in some way, enjoying the hell out of her evening.

It had taken Jess awhile to figure out the dynamic between Quan and her. Yes, Quan was constantly testing her, pushing her, trying to top her – and for some time Jess had worried Quan was merely submitting to the punishment side of that cycle out of desire to eventually win the game, and put Jess on her knees. That Quan was finding no pleasure or fulfillment in the submission at all.

And, if you listened to her words, that was definitely the impression given.

But it wasn’t the truth.

Quan was using the dynamic to push her own boundaries – whether she was truly aware of what she was doing or not. Quan wasn’t much for talking about feelings – very much like the stereotype of a guy that way – but over the months, Jess had realized her roommate and lover wanted to explore the submissive side, but couldn’t just go ahead and submit. Quan viewed herself as a dominant ... just, in this case, a dominant who couldn’t quite top her lover. So she was forced to submit, to undergo indignities it was hard for Quan to admit she desired.

At times, Jess felt like it was rape fantasies, played out as a lifestyle. Quan wanted these experiences, couldn’t bring herself to ask for them, or just accept them, so she’d set up the situation so she was forced into them and suffered through them.

Jess had suggested Quan see Sister Chess, which had gone over like the proverbial turd in the punch bowl.

Maybe Jess should bring it up in one of her sessions with the therapist, not what Quan should do – therapy didn’t work like that – but to look for ways to help Jess handle the situation.

Harry

Marcie Hurley and her boys had landed, and were on their way to Hau’oli Mala. He didn’t have much idea how to handle that whole situation. He’d prefer parking them at the guest lodge, and God knew there was room enough, but he couldn’t see kids being entertained by being that far from the beach.