Chapter 48

"You know, my beloved, I'm afraid the clinic's going to have to do without you today," Harry said as he greeted Margo at the door, finally home from her long night.

"Damn skippy," Margo muttered. "I'm so glad I caught a ride there with the boys. I couldn't have faced driving home and I really hate having to cab back somewhere to pick up the car."

"Well, let Kelly and Carol give you a bath, then they'll tuck you in and we'll talk when I get home this evening."

As she staggered towards the bathroom, her wives helping her shed clothes like a tree sheds its leaves in autumn, she told Kelly and Carol, "Don't let me sleep past 3, I've got some people to talk to this evening."

Harry shook his head and headed off to work, running late, as seemed to happen so often lately.

Kelly, Camille and Carol were quietly taking care of the housework, with Billy handling the household's voluminous amounts of laundry, while Margo slept. The master bedroom was off limits, the door was closed and still they felt the need to creep as silently as possible about the house.

The house phone rang and Carol raced into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello, Grimes residence."
"I want you, little girl," said Dayna on the other end of the line.

"Hello, my creepy stalker goth, how are you today?"

"Lonely, little Carol ... why don't I come over, pick you up and we go catch something to eat, maybe give some people in the park thrills with some exhibitionist fucking?"

"Sorry darling, housework to do, a Madam to take care of when she wakes ... can't get away."

Spyderchylde's pouty sigh was clearly audible. "How boring ... just think — housework, or my head between your thighs for hours and hours."

"Tempting, Dayna, but the answer's still no."

"All right, since you're busy today, and I'm so bored and you're not around to help relieve my boredom, you must let me take you out to dinner tomorrow night, or I'll come camp out on your front porch and make all your neighbors nervous."

Carol took a deep breath. If it would get Dayna Spyderchylde off her case, she'd go out to dinner with her.

"Fine, but it'll have to be a late dinner, I'm seeing St. Paul and Franklin about their performances at 7, I should be through by 9."

"Perfect, sweet-treat — I know a great little place we can grab a bite after I pick you up. You like Korean?"

"Love it, I'll see you then."

Carol hung up the phone.

"Well, I'll give her this, she's persistent," Kelly said. "So you're going out on a date with another Domme ... I'm so hurt."

Carol grinned at her. "No, you're just jealous it isn't you she's trying to get all tied up and at her mercy."

"True that," Kelly answered, laughing.

Margo didn't want to wake up when Kelly came in and began licking her cunt, teasing her towards an orgasm and wakefulness, but her wife's tongue was most insistent and after a small but most pleasant climax, she pushed Kelly's head away.

"I'm up ... I'm up ... God, is there anything to eat? I'm famished."

"Go hit the bathroom and I'll have something ready for you when you get done ... will soup and a sandwich work?"
"Sounds divine ... go to it."

Margo felt a hundred times better after she ate, and pulled Carol and Kelly to the bedroom with her.

"I need to look serious, but not stuffy ... like a neighbor you want to ... well, never mind about that, I need trustworthy, convincing, friendly — but still serious. Not someone who's joking around at your expense."

Five minutes later they'd laid out an outfit that both of them agreed fit Margo's specifications.

After helping her dress, Carol asked, "Okay, so what's all this for?"

"Just going to meet the neighbors. Toodles!"

And with that, Margo was on her way out the door.

Kelly and Carol followed her out and watched her go up to the Larsen's house next door and knock.

Shaking their heads, they went back inside.

Even though it was after hours, Mattie Daggett answered the phone when it began to ring at her father's office.

"Hello, Attorney J. Noble Daggett's office, how may I help you?"

"Mattie, is that you? This is Margo Grimes, let me talk to your father, if he's available."

Knowing Margo, and having heard about her recent financial windfall, she wasted no time in transferring the call to her father's office.

Later that night, Billy, Helen & Camille safely ensconced in bed with the family, Harry and his wives found themselves almost too tired for anything.

Camille, snuggled up on one side of Harry, said, "Sir, I just want you to know that this ... welcoming us into your bed ... I've never had this, in any of my previous arrangements."

"Well sexy," Harry sighed, "I'm glad you're enjoying it, I'm just sorry you're having to share a night."

"Don't be," she replied, "I suspect before the end of all this, you'll have several more people in your household. For this kind of care and kindness, they'll all share nights and be most thankful for it."

"Please don't talk about more," Margo softly wailed, "the house is overcrowded as it is."

"True, Madam, I'm sleeping on the floor on an inflatable mattress ... and I can't remember ever having been happier," Camille replied.

"Well I'm glad you're here," Carol sighed. "Keeping a household of eight running is more work than I thought it would be."

"Ain't that the truth," Kelly added. "Although, to be fair, most of the hard work this week has been prepping for Dommi's on Friday, and the party with the neighbors on Saturday."

Helen found herself gently rubbing Harry's chest from her position on the other side from Camille.

"Helen — what are you still doing here?" Harry asked. "You were here because I don't ... well ... and it was Billy's night. But Camille's here now, and-"

Helen McReady took a deep breath, brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, "I'm here because Billy still owes you service. I'm here because Billy wants me to be. I'm here because I want to be."

Harry murmured, "Really?"

Helen moved his hand to her crotch and he found it warm and wet.

As tired as he was, Harry rolled over and got on top of her, feeling her legs part beneath him and wrap around his waist.

"Oh hell," Margo said as she got up on her side, threw a leg over Billy and began to rub her slit along his cock.

Kelly and Carol shifted around, Carol putting her lips to Camille's cunt, Kelly planting her pussy on Camille's face.

"Whatever her answer was, it must have been a good one," Kelly said.

From beneath her came Camille's muffled voice, "It was, Mistress, it was."

Later, when Harry hoped most of the others were asleep, Harry cuddled with Helen and they continued talking.

"So you're here partly because Billy wants you to be?" he asked, gently running his finger around her nipple.

"Yes ... sir. I am Billy's, Billy is yours ... I'm an inheritance, you might say."

"But I should make no mistake; you're Billy's first and foremost?"

"Yes sir, I am. There's almost nothing I wouldn't do for him." She sighed, "Luckily this task isn't hard at all, and I'm not only here for him, but for myself."

"You've gotten a lot freakier since I first met you," Harry said, laughing softly. "I believe we're a bad influence on you."

"No sir," she replied, poking him in the chest with her finger. "If only for Billy, just him alone, the day I met you and your crew was the luckiest day of my life ... and it was a good day for many other reasons as well."

"All right, I shan't argue with you. Now snuggle up tight and let's get some sleep. Morning's going to come too damn early as it is."

Wednesday morning, as they had breakfast together, Tamara thought it time that she told Eddie of his father's visit.

Eddie made it in to work that day, just barely on time. If any of his crew thought about mentioning his red eyes, they then thought better of the idea and got on with business.

By the end of the day he had resolved how to say thank you all involved, and was much calmer.

The Grimes household's Wednesday went by in a blur as everyone rushed about their business. Between the performance Friday night and the party on Saturday, Carol was driven almost insane and it was with a sense of relief that she found herself waiting for Dayna to pick her up for supper.

Dayna's car, a black 1976 Jaguar XJ Coupe, purred down the highway like a dream on wheels.

"Uh, Dayna," Carol said, somewhat nervously, "that was Korea House back there. Where are we going?"

"Can you keep a secret, little Carol?" Dayna Spyderchylde whispered. "No matter how much you might want to tell?"

As they headed for bed, Margo wondered where Carol was. After hearing of her date with Dayna from Kelly, she said, "Well, she deserves a night out. She's been working her ass off. She'll creep in sometime tonight."

Jackie let Harry's cock drop from her mouth. "I hope so, Madam. Part of the fun of my night in here for me is having all of you in bed to play with. I miss her."

"Me too, honey" Harry said, moving Jackie's mouth back to his cock. "Me too."

Later in the night, Carol came to, suspended in a shibari rig, arms behind her, her mouth less than an inch away from Dayna's moist and fragrant cunt.

"I've been enjoying the feel of your breath on me, little Carol," she said. "Now then, apply some tongue or I'll be most upset with you."

Still disoriented, Carol murmured "Holy ... that orgasm was ... oh shit."

Mistress Spyderchylde answered her, "I thought you'd enjoy that ... it takes a bit of effort, but I think you're worth it. Do you think you're worth it?"

"Oh yes, Madam," Carol replied. "Especially after all the trouble you've gone through to kidnap me, I'm worth it."

"Arrogant cunt," Spyderchylde said, "you're lucky I enjoy indulging you."

She sat up and kissed her prisoner deeply, tongues dueling like thrusting cocks in their mouths. Then Dayna Spyderchylde lay back, and Carol tongued her cunt with a will, as she enjoyed the feeling of the rope wound around her body. Even more though, she enjoyed the feeling of being completely at someone's mercy.

Thursday morning Harry was most distressed to find his Baby Girl nowhere in sight. Once he was through in the bathroom, he threw on a robe and stalked outside with his cellphone, for better reception, he called Carol's cell. When that rolled to voice mail, he called House Sandalwood.

When Mistress Ravensclaw came to the phone after Harry had demanded to speak to one of the Dominants, he barked "Is my wife Carol there with you?"

"Yes she is, Master Grimes, would you like to speak with her?"

"Yes I sure as hell would."

Thirty minutes later Harry and his spouses were on their way to the home of House Sandalwood.

"Are you insane? How did you know I wouldn't call the cops?"

"You didn't strike us as the cop-calling type, Harry ... a little too much rebel in your nature," Mistress Wolfling replied.

All five Mistresses of House Sandalwood and the four spouses of the Grimes household were sequestered in a small room in the back of the Sandalwood home.

"All our subs are out of the house running errands, and no doubt spreading the word that Spyderchylde here went batshit and kidnapped your wife, so she could play with her. That's very believable since Dayna's habit of doing just that is why we made all of our subs community property between us. Otherwise," Mistress Wolfling continued, "we'd have drummed her little ass out of the House quite some time back."

"You told none of yours, I trust," Mistress Dragonaria said. "We weren't even sure we were going to tell you, until Carol convinced us you were all good enough actors to carry this off."

"No," Margo replied, "they're all in the dark and I'm none too happy about it."

An hour later they were home again, and Margo and Harry were on their way out the door, headed for work, late again.

"Good thing our bosses love us so much," Harry quipped, grinning.

"No, good thing my boss needs all the physicians she can get her hands on — I think your boss puts up with your shenanigans only because you're both one and the same person."

Carol went into seclusion in the master bedroom, "recovering from her ordeal", waited on by Kelly alone, much to the frustration of Camille and Billy.

They'd both been told what had happened, and Jackie and Lisa had been called at work with the short version, and encouraged to spread the word of Carol's return home through their network of friends, to help, since it was a sure thing the grapevine was already buzzing.

Billy's first call was to Dominique, and he told her about the family's decision to follow old Society tradition — putting Spyderchylde, and House Sandalwood, on trial at a gathering of Houses — which meant Dommi's club Friday night, with the oldest established House sitting in judgment.

Dominique had indeed already heard of Carol's kidnapping, and her only surprise at the way the situation was to be resolved was that Harry hadn't made Spyderchylde's fate a moot point by beating her to death already. Dommi still thought about doing that herself.

Although Camille had no one to call, really, she still called Stan Carter's house and talked with Ramon, telling him all about her new life with the Grimes, and how Carol had been kidnapped by Spyderchylde.

He didn't seem interested, but she told him anyway. She asked him if he wanted to leave Stan, and come live somewhere better. He laughed and called her a fool. By the end of the phone call, she had pretty much decided she never needed to call him again. The recent changes in her life had shown her the truth of her previous situation, and she hoped Li Kuan would be proud of her as she cut her callous, self-centered little shit of a brother from her life.

Behind the bedroom door, Carol soaked in the tub while Kelly paced the floor.

"I really don't like keeping this a secret," Kelly snarled.

Carol was very tired, and that weariness was reflected in her answer.

"Get over it already, Kelly. Goddamn, this is Dominant business! This is Heads of Household business! Our subs don't need to know! And this is what it means to play in Society games at this level ... so shut up and quit your moaning."

Seeing motion out of the corner of her eye, Carol turned and saw Kelly kneeling on the floor, head down, arms over her lap.

"Fine then, you silly cunt!" Carol snapped. "Get your ass in this tub and bathe me!"

But when Kelly tried to bathe her, Carol pulled her wife into her arms.

"I'm sorry, honey ... look, we'll probably tell them after the fact — I know we can trust all of them — but for now, they need to play their parts, and play them convincingly."

"What if they don't forgive us?" Kelly asked in a small voice. "I love them, all of them, and I don't want to lose them."

"Don't worry," Carol replied, turning Kelly's face to her own. "Trust me, they'll stay with us, and applaud our cleverness." She hugged Kelly tightly. "I know a thing or two about how submissives think ... we'll be just fine."

Thursday was primarily taken up with repeated calls from Elenore, who was struggling so hard to get all the additional costumes ordered for Friday night ready that she'd had to hire two temporary assistants and was even putting Jerome to work in whatever limited capacity he was capable of.

Carol kept dodging calls from Dommi, and feeling guilty as hell about it, until she could stand it no longer. The next time her old friend called, she had Kelly give her the phone.

"Hey Dommi-darling, how's it going?"

A flood of invective and concern flooded her ear from the other end of the line.

"No, trust me, I'm fine. Everything's okay, I've just got more on my plate than I know what to do with."

Another torrent of tender solicitude came through the earpiece.

"No ... no — Dommi, I'm fine, trust me. She didn't hurt me ... at least not in ways that I minded ... and I'm okay. I've had a good nap and I'm feeling just fine, really."

A calmer, more coherent Dommi continued.

"Are they insane, baby? Didn't they snap to what Spyderchylde was up to?'

"No, no they didn't," Carol sighed. "They thought I was there of my own free will, and certainly Dayna and I had given everyone every reason to believe that could be true."

"Do they have any idea what kind of judgment they're facing from a senior House?"

"Oh, they know ... Dayna's probably going to be given a choice of being forced into a collar or barred from Society ... something we'll abide by if such is her decision. As for Sandalwood ... both Houses agree it'll more than probably be a ban from attendance at any function or club for at least six months, probably not more than a year. But that'll be the end of it. Hell, in the end all this might even help us in the eyes of the Traditionalists."

"All right then ... listen honey, there was something I really wanted to discuss with y'all, first chance we got. What are y'all doing tonight?"

"Other than last minute bullshit, probably not much. Want to get together for supper?"

"Sure ... how about the Persian Gulf Surf Club? The owners owe me some favors and I'm pretty sure they could whip up some dead cow and lobster that'd bring a happy tear to the eye."

"Good, let me get together with Harry and Margo and I'll call you back with a time, let you make the appointment."

"Okay ... honey, I'm so glad you're okay."

"Thank you Dommi," Carol answered, feeling like a complete and total shit. "I really appreciate that."

The Persian Gulf Surf Club was owned and operated by a trio of Gulf War vets who'd decided that serving good food and drinks in an absolute madhouse was the perfect life to make for themselves after their tours of duty.

From the outside, the one-time bowling alley had been stuccoed and painted to resemble a mud brick building, complete with bullet holes, windows cleverly disguised as larger artillery shell holes, razor wire along the roof line, machine gun nests and spotlights on the rooftop corners. Above the front doors extended the club's marquee, the sign, apparently hand painted, read "Persian Gulf Surf Club", flanking the doors were two more signs — "Land Mines — Step Lightly or Don't Step At All" and "Bring Your Own Board, We're Tired of Losing our Rentals to Enemy Fire".

Once inside, the décor was a bizarre mix of California surf culture, Middle Eastern war zone, and Arabian Nights fantasy, complete with artfully painted camel mannequins, a group of tables under silk tents, a bar in the center inside the shell of an M113 armored personnel carrier, and a waitstaff of lovely young women dressed in desert camouflage short-shorts and tight t-shirts. Surf boards, some of them with distinctly non-family-friendly paint-jobs and slogans, adorned the walls, and all the male employees wore fatigue pants and Hawaiian shirts.

The music coming over the speakers mounted on poles was an eclectic mix, as one of the owners was a country & western fan, another listened to nothing but classic rock, and the third was into hip-hop.

Still, chaotic as the club was, all three of the owners could agree on the definition of good food and top-shelf booze, refusing to serve anything less on either account.

Beneath one of the silk tents sat Dommi, Margo, Kelly, Carol and Harry. The first round of drinks had been consumed, the second was on their way, and everyone was looking forward to whatever delights Dommi had arranged for them to be served for dinner.

"Okay, 'cause I can't wait any longer," Dommi began, "I want to dissolve House Duvalier and petition to join your House as one of its Dommes."

Four sets of open mouths and wide eyes faced her across the table.

"Listen guys, it's not like I was ever that set on my own House — only reason I formed Duvalier was so I could keep my neutrality." She smiled lovingly at the four of them. "And I'm so not neutral anymore.

"I love you guys, I'm very happy with the thought of being part of your House, and between y'all and my club, my life would be complete. So what do you say?"

Margo looked at her spouses and then back at Dominique.

"We accept your petition with glad hearts and embrace you. Welcome home, Mistress Dominique."

The waitress entered the tent with their drinks to find five people crying and hugging each other.

An hour later, bacon-wrapped-prime-rib and giant-Maine-lobsters-stuffed-with-scallops-and-corn-bread-dressing consumed, an empty platter that once held herb-roasted red potatoes and asparagus sitting in the center of the table, the five of them sat close to each other, sipping their coffee.

A tall man with steel-grey flat-top, dressed in the club's ubiquitous uniform, stepped in.

"If I'm not interrupting?"

"Edgar, you ol' goat-fucker!" Dominique cried as she vaulted out of her chair to hug him. "God, it's good to see you. Come on, meet my friends, have a seat, swap spit and tell some lies.