Chapter 5: 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.