Chapter 4

Dr. Margo Wohler-Sapperstein. What a joke, Margo thought to herself.

All her life she had been driven by the will of her parents, driven to achieve, to excel, to succeed, to exceed. Even now, even after their deaths, she felt their cold hands on her life, steering her future from beyond the grave.

They hadn't lived to see her move away from the family practice she loved into cosmetic surgery.

But they'd planned it.

They hadn't lived to see her marry Benjamin in what could only be charitably called a wedding as it was truly more of a merger of their two medical careers.

But they'd planned it.

Her brief flirtation with freedom in college, a blown-off semester in which she'd finally lost her virginity, smoked a lot of pot and drank a lot of booze, had earned her a summer stay in an institution where the children of wealthy parents went to 'rest', courtesy of one of her father's deacons.

That had put her right back on track.

She remembered the rats in the mazes from her psych classes. Well, there she was, except there was no treat and no exit. And as the walls were in her mind, there was no escape at all, not even in sleep.

Harry woke up to wondrous smells, cutting through the scent of roses.

Coffee... bacon... perhaps toast as well.

He curled back over on to his side, just to close his eyes for a moment. He was sure she'd call him when it was ready.

"Harry, Harry... wake up, breakfast is here."

He opened his eyes, amazed that he'd actually drifted back to sleep. Then again, why should he be surprised? The last few days had been very... taxing.

The naked angelic creature with a breakfast tray smiled at him.

"Come on sir; let me help you sit up. I've brought you breakfast in bed, although I repeat my assertation of last evening that you are a bastard and now add that you probably don't deserve this."

"Of course I don't deserve it, you silly girl," he said as he sat up against the headboard, "no more than I deserve you. Both you and breakfast in bed are gifts that I am blessed to receive."

"Harry, you are the sweetest man alive."

As the two of them ate breakfast from the tray, they discussed the plans for the day. There were already things that Carol's arrival, and the habits they were forming together, made essential, such as something to soften the impact of their frequent encounters on the hardwood floors.

And now that Harry had resolved to live in the house instead of haunt it, there were changes he wanted to make.

"Baby Girl, I want a bigger bathtub, one big enough for you and me both, a bigger shower as well."

"Oh, break my heart Harry!" She smiled. "But if you're going to enlarge the facilities, go ahead and plan for three. Don't forget, I'm still looking for you a nice woman for me to tongue-fuck."

"I'm sure that somewhere in the deviant brain of yours, that made sense. How do you feel about hot tubs?"

"How do you feel about me blowing you whenever, wherever you want from now until the end of time? Oh, wait, you've already got that... uh, well... yes, yes I love hot tubs, hot tubs are one of God's greatest gifts to us poor souls down here."

"Ok, so, hot tub it is."

Margo's brain had run circles around itself most of the night before and after a few fitful hours of sleep, it was back to its old tricks.

Her cell phone rang and the ring tones told her it was Benjamin. She let voice mail get it, wondering what creative new lie he'd spin to explain why he wasn't going to be home from the medical convention in Las Vegas for another couple of days? The last excuse had been a special seminar on bypass surgery. In the spirit of the venture, she was placing her bets on an emergency consultation on a famous entertainer.

Yeah, he'd be consulting all right. He'd be consulting with his dick on the case of someone famous like Candyie from the Mustang Strip Club. He liked them dumb and blond, with tits as big as the Goodyear blimp and as natural as Cool Whip. No shortage of that type in Vegas. There he'd be, a short, obnoxious Jewish doctor, fucking his way through their joint account.

She had grown up very rarely needing to ask for help with anything. She was most often one of the ones people went to for help. But now she desperately needed someone to talk to, someone at least somewhat objective. All the 'friends' she had now wouldn't begin to understand her problem. Why would she want a life other than the one she had? She was making lots of money, had an elite clientele, her husband left her alone, she could fool around the same as him, and did they mention the money?

She wanted to talk to Harry, but that felt... wrong. Here he was, beginning of a new relationship, calls and asks her a favor and then just to even the scales she dumps this load of emotional shit on him. It just didn't feel right.

Problem was, she didn't see as how she had any other choice.

The cell rang and Carol scampered over to grab it.

"Hello, Harry Grimes' phone, Carol speaking... Dr. Wohler? Well of course the offer is still open. Don't be silly, it's not going to disappear after a day, it's not going to disappear at all. Uh, how does 8 this evening sound to you? Good. And you have the address, know where we are? Good. Do you have any problem with something done with lamb? Yes, the store had some lovely chops. We'll see you then. Goodbye Dr. Wohler."

She closed the phone.

"Harry, we're having a guest for dinner this evening" she said with a smirk.

Margo took one of her Valium and in an increasingly common act of stupidity, washed it down with a glass of wine, at 9 in the morning. She was a trained physician, she knew better. She just wanted to sleep for a bit before supper.

Their day of shopping, once it began, went by in a blur and they arrived home late, leading a delivery truck with their rug purchases.

The skies which had spent the day in a leaden gloom as a stalled cool front threatened to move through, darkened and gave birth to sheets of rain not ten minutes after the last of their purchases was inside.

Margo awoke, feeling somewhat better. She ran herself through the shower, threw on some comfortable clothes and headed out the door. The rain began before she made it to the highway.

"Harry, do you trust me," Carol asked as they shifted the living room around, making the center of the room a large open space, rolling out the carpets then flinging throw rugs and pillows with abandon.

"Implicitly."

"All right then. Harry, you've seen me read people. It's something I'm pretty good at. If you see me start to put moves on Dr. Wohler tonight, please don't interfere. Unless you don't want me to and if that's the case, you tell me now. I'll stake 10 hours of sobbing sexual frustration that by the end of the night the three of us are going to be in the same bed, happily making love. If I'm wrong and I start moving on her, when I'm rebuffed I'll back off so fast she'll wonder if I really made a move at all. But I'm not going to have to back off, Harry."

"Ok Baby Girl, you're on. But if you're wrong, it'll be 5 hours of sobbing sexual frustration because after that, I won't be able to hold out any longer."

"As you wish sir, and if I were you, I'd bet on her showing up early and I'd bet on a lot of crying."

As Margo drove through the downpour, the second guessing began. What was she doing going this early? The weather was a factor, she wanted to make sure she was there on time, she wanted to pick up wine on the way, surely they wouldn't mind it if she was early and helped with supper. Why was she dumping this on the two of them? Because she didn't have anybody else and that was just too goddamn pathetic to ever say out loud. Because she needed Harry's help again? Well, that was better at least, and true. And if it was too much of an imposition she'd apologize profusely and back on out the door.

So she picked up some wine and then before she knew it and before another full round of second guessing had had a chance to go around, she was there. She parked across the street and looked at her watch.

4:30 PM.

She was fucking insane! What was she doing here three and a half hours early? This was beyond pathetic. She just needed to go home and take a few more Valium, drink her bottle of wine and get some sleep, everything would look better in the morning.

But it wouldn't, because she knew how many Valium she wanted to take out of the bottle and she wasn't going to feel better in the morning, if she had her way she wasn't going to feel anything in the goddamn morning.

She should stop that college drama queen bullshit. She wasn't going to kill herself. But she wanted to! But she wasn't going to and she knew it. She was going to go home and be a good little girl and keep on taking it like she always had and be what everyone always expected her to be and she'd make everyone happy.

The tears started and she let them come for awhile because she knew she needed to cry but then they'd gone on long enough and it was time to stop and she couldn't and the crying became sobbing and screaming and she beat her hands against the wheel because it just wouldn't stop and she could hear her car horn in time with her hitting the wheel but it didn't matter because the tears just wouldn't stop...

Harry and Carol heard the honking through the steady pounding of the rain. They went to the front and stood out on their porch, peering through the sheets of grey water. The outline of a car could faintly be made out across the street.

"Baby Girl, better go get some of the candles out of our hall closet. I don't think this rain is going to let up any time soon and that almost guarantees we're going to lose power for some reason. I'm going to go see if someone needs help out there."

Harry briefly considered an umbrella or a raincoat, but a sense of urgency told him he really didn't have the time.

Margo left off hitting the wheel with her hands and entwined her fingers through her hair. The tears and hoarse, trapped screeching grew louder as she spiraled further into hopelessness.

She had to stop, she had to stop this nonsense and quit making a scene and get out of here before anyone came to check on what the problem was because you did not make scenes you just did as you were told did what God wanted you to do did what was right did what was expected of you and if you weren't happy that was too bad because happiness wasn't that important why just look at me, Margo, I've been married to your father for twenty-five years and I've never been happy-

Her car door opened and someone began to shake her back and forth. Over her own screaming and crying and the sound of the rain she could hear someone shouting her name.

-twenty five years I've lived with that sour-faced woman, Margo, and what I wanted didn't matter because preachers who divorce can kiss any hope of finding or keeping a church goodbye so we've stayed together and haven't spoken to each other much except concerning you Margo, we agree on what's best for you-

She felt herself being lifted out of the car, held close to someone's chest, some man, someone she felt safe with and she was getting soaked in the cool rain but still the screaming wouldn't stop.

-you're all that's kept us together, Margo, because if I'd had my way I would've left him in an instant and to hell with his career do you know what's it like to be a preacher's wife, to be judged by every bitch in the congregation, half of them wanting to sleep with him, all of them thinking they're paying him enough for you to devote all your time to the church as well, his mistakes and human errors being judged with a forgiving eye because he's "sanctified" since he's the pastor but as the pastor's wife you get no such dispensation-

He was carrying her somewhere. He had turned her face towards him so she didn't drown as her throat gave voice to her pain because the rain wasn't showing any signs of stopping and neither was her breakdown.

-we endured this, I endured this, for you Margo, for you to succeed, to be someone, to have the life we want for you, I put up with that woman for all these years, never gave in to the temptation to sleep with any other woman, and I had offers, dealt with difficult congregations-

She was under cover and had been laid down on the ground. She still felt safe as hands removed her clothes and began wrapping her in towels. Then she was carried inside and laid on something soft in a candlelit room as the lightning crashed and her screams went on. Two pair of arms encircled her.

-and we did it for you Margo we did it for you so you could have the life we wanted for you and this is the life we wanted for you, you have the life we wanted for you, you'll keep the life we wanted for you, it's your life now and it's the life we wanted for you and it's the life you should want for you because it's the life we suffered to give you and it's the life that makes everyone else happy and it's the life you have, it's the life you'll keep because you don't make scenes and you don't rock the boat and you-

"SHUT UP, CAN'T YOU SEE YOU'RE KILLING ME?"

-don't be ridiculous Margo, you're just being dramatic again and there's no call for that kind of behavior, you're making a scene Margo, you're making a scene, just like when that boy attacked you, there's nothing really wrong Margo, nothing really happened, you should stop making a scene-

"HE TRIED TO RAPE ME!"

-but he didn't succeed, did he, so nothing really happened and there's no reason to make a scene, you need to stop, people will look at you, just forget it, nothing really happened-

"SHUT UP! GO AWAY! YOU'RE DEAD!"

-but our love for you will stay with you forever-

"I DON'T WANT YOUR LOVE! HE TRIED TO RAPE ME! HE DID!"

Seventeen years of repressed rage, shame and hatred flowed free as the old wound was finally lanced. Margo's tears continued but they had changed to tears of cleansing as they helped to wash away the evil infection begun by what had been done to her, knowingly or unknowingly, by her parents. Her parents, in a very real sense had succeeded in raping her where Cliff Jeffreys had failed.

As Margo started to quiet, a half hour later, the lightning and thunder moved away, but the rain continued on.

Harry and Carol stared at each other across Margo's sobbing form, shell-shocked survivors of a woman's long overdue fight with her past.

"Baby Girl," Harry said, "I never saw that coming."

"Sir," she replied, "I saw something coming, but I couldn't have imagined it was something like that."

"Why don't you go run her a bath? Get her relaxed in a nice warm bath and then put her to bed in the guest room."

A tiny voice emerged from in-between her quieting cries.

"No."

Her breathing slowly calmed.

"I need to go. You two have been wonderful, but I've been a major bother and I need to get home."

As she brought her mind into the here-and-now, she took stock of her surroundings.

The breeze coming through the open front door caused the candles to flicker, their dancing light shifting highlights across the room. She sat in a nest of pillows; Harry, wearing a bathrobe, wrapped around her on one side, Carol, wearing nothing but a leather collar, wrapped around her on the other.

"Dr. Wohler," Carol said, "you don't need to go anywhere. That's your shame talking and you have nothing to be ashamed of. You were in a lot of pain, more pain than we could have imagined. You reached a moment of crisis and I'm just thanking God you were here so we could help you. No one ever needs to be alone at a time like this and I'm willing to bet you anything that Dr. Sapperstein is not at home. Am I right?"

"No, you're right Carol, he's in Las Vegas on a whore hunt." Her eyes snapped open as she realized what she'd just said. "I mean a medical conference. He's in Las Vegas for a medical conference."

Carol took Margo's hand and raised it to her mouth. Smoothly and delicately she laid a kiss upon it.

"No Dr. Wohler-"

"Please call me Margo."

"No Margo, you meant he's in Las Vegas on a whore hunt."

She released Margo's hand and reached up, turning Margo to face her.

"Margo, Harry's your friend; you trust him and love him as a friend. You have no image to maintain, no illusions to weave for him. He's your friend, and he loves you for who you are. I want to be your friend, as far as I'm concerned I am your friend, and you could give me no greater gift than your friendship. You have no illusions or images to keep up for me. I love you for who you are."

"Reciprocally Margo, we have no illusions or images to shield us from you. There is no need."

"Harry and I aren't a couple in the usual sense. I'm his property, willingly, and I serve him in all ways. I'm his pet, his sex toy, the lady of his house. It is my intent to seduce you tonight, both for my own pleasure as well as to prepare the way for Harry so that he may have you, to prove to Harry that you do want him, and that he does want you."

Harry stiffened and began to protest.

"Sir, I asked you to trust my instincts."

"Yes, but-"

"No Harry," said Margo, shocked at the words that were coming out of her mouth, "you should listen to her. I do want you. Let her continue."

"Thank you, Margo. Please don't feel pressured, don't feel rushed. This seduction will take some time, and you can stop it, up to a point, by simply saying 'no', getting up and leaving. If you leave, please leave for honest reasons, not out of fear, not out of lies you tell yourself, not out of panic, not because it's 'wrong' for you to be here or because normal people don't do this kind of thing. If you leave, leave because you're not ready, or because you don't feel that way about one or both of us, or leave because you don't want this to happen at all."

"Margo, the point will be reached where tonight's seduction will be unstoppable. I'll let you know when that point's approaching, and if you don't want things to continue, you'll be responsible for leaving at that time. Past that point, I will have you and Harry will have you, and you will have us."

"Fair enough, Carol... although I suppose there's a pet name for you."

"Two actually, 'Baby Girl' when I'm being good," she leaned forward, placing her lips gently on Margo's, licking along them with her tongue, "or 'Little Cunt' when I've been bad." Carol softly nuzzled her mouth into Margo's ear. "But you'll have to have Harry's permission to use them," she whispered. A visible shiver ran down Margo's body.

Harry sat, startled and amazed by what was transpiring. It didn't surprise him when his Baby Girl was right, normally, but he had been sure she was far out in left field on this prediction. He felt his cock stirring beneath his robes. He'd never particularly been a fan of the 'two girls, one man' fantasy, although it made for pretty photo spreads; then again, he'd never actually believed it would happen to him either, not even with Baby Girl announcing her clear intentions in that direction. But now... now it was time to sit back and examine his feelings.

Margo felt Harry's dick moving across her thigh. A part of her yearned to reach down and stroke it, accelerating the proceedings but she couldn't, not yet, she wasn't ready.

She felt fresh and new, like she had that semester in college. There were things to try and explore, possibilities stretching out in front of her that she hadn't been able to imagine mere hours before.

Like the young girl at her side. She had never seriously considered a female lover, although she'd fantasized about it on more than one occasion, and during that semester at college, she'd, well, she'd had a crush on a female undergrad teaching assistant, a crush she'd never acted on, but now here it was and what was she going to do?

And what happened when she chickened out? If it were just her and Harry, well... well, she'd probably talk herself into leaving no matter how much she wanted him, but it didn't seem that Carol was going to make that all that easy to do. If she left, it would be because she made a clear and conscious decision to, it was because she had decided that it was not the time, not the place, not the people... it wouldn't be in a blind panic or out of fear.

Her ruminations were interrupted.

"Sir, as it seems I'm holding Margo up at present, could you go retrieve the hookah?"

Margo realized she had slumped against Carol and was being held in her arms as her head rested on her shoulder. Carol was stroking her hair while planting gentle kisses on the side of her face.

Harry got up and ambled off to the bedroom.

"Margo, I apologize for my rudeness when I invited you to supper. Even though I make no secret of my disdain for your husband nor beg pardon for it, what I did was undeniably rude and for that you have my sincerest regrets. You have but to decide a suitable punishment and I'm sure Harry will approve it and either administer it himself or allow you to."

"Carol, there's no need to apologize and certainly no need for punishment-"

"Margo, my owner has said, and I agree with him, that I was rude. When one is rude, one apologizes. That's how it works in polite societies. Both my pet names are child-like, and when a child misbehaves, a child should be punished. When I misbehave, I am punished, and I like it that way."

"I'm afraid I can't think of any suitable punishments, sorry."

Carol's hand caressed down Margo's belly to the very beginnings of her soft pubic hair.

She whispered throatily into Margo's ear, "Well, you could demand that I lick your pussy for hours and hours and hours... I'd just hate that."

She sinuously slid around Margo's body and began to flick her tongue over Margo's nipple. Putting her lips over it she murmured "Or you could make me bathe you all over with my tongue. Oh Margo, that would just suck."

Carol grabbed one of the roses Harry had sent her and used the flower to tease the inside of Margo's thighs. She ran her mouth around Margo's neck, kissing and licking.

"Or if you really wanted to punish me, really show me who's boss, you could have me use my new strap-on to fuck you for as long as you could stand it, while I fucked your mouth with my tongue."

Margo was moist, more than moist and it was all she could do not to attack her little seductress.

"Alright, uh... how are you at backrubs?" she stammered.

"She's an excellent masseuse" Harry said, returning from the bedroom carrying the hookah.

"How would you know, sir," Carol replied, "you didn't let me even get started last night, much less anywhere close to finished."

"Baby Girl, you writhing on top of me as I buried my face between your delectable thighs was the best massage I could have had last night, and I know you're a superb masseuse because I've found nothing that involves pleasing me that you don't do exceptionally well."

"Sir, I think there's a flaw in your logic somewhere but I shan't go looking for it."

Margo wondered at her ease as these two, so obviously in love with each other, discussed their intimacy in front of her. She fantasized about being that at ease with them both, that comfortable, of Harry above her, making love to her while Carol... well, she wasn't' exactly sure where Carol would be or what she would be doing, but she'd be there as well, and she'd be involved and it would be decadently delightful... But the fantasy died an ugly death as her insecurities and the poisons of the past roared up out of the dark places of her mind.