Chapter 29

Janey was calm the next morning as she came in to practice her fellatio. She had closely followed her mother's tortured emotions the night before over their link. She had not sensed any malicious intent on my part. She also knew I had forgiven her Mom and that the incident was behind us.

I was still half-asleep when her hot mouth engulfed my limp dick. Janey had simply crawled in under the covers, nude, and gone about her business. God, could it get any better?

I turned to look at my bride-to-be and found she was already awake, quietly watching me wake up. We looked at each other in silence as her daughter labored below. I watched for any signs of anger or jealousy, but there was only contentment. Even when she saw my pupils dilate and my nostrils flare as I filled that industrious tight hot mouth with my essence, there was only peace and pleasure at my release. I felt the two diamond hard points of Janey's nipples working their way up my chest. I turned to meet her mouth as she kissed me, my taste still predominant in her mouth.

"Morning. Morning, Mom."

She saw Sally's wrists still tied to the headboard from the night before. She didn't seem to be alarmed or surprised. Seeing there was no rush, she kind of melted her fabulous body into mine. I was prepared for her to try to slip my cock into her slit, but she didn't try. I was surprised, and proud.

With her finger she reached over and traced the letter in medallion of Sally's collar. I think she was a little sad she didn't have hers, but she seemed resolved to let me set the pace. I know she was happy for her Mom.

I reached up and jerked the strap, freeing Sally. With a lascivious grin I ran my finger lightly over her bare pubic area. There was just the faintest hint of stubble, but that was all the excuse I needed. More than I needed. Janey was forgotten as my love and I headed for the bathroom.

At breakfast I informed Sally that I wanted her to set up a regular evening with Amud and Bala. Amud was a fascinating young man, well versed in a broad range of political and financial topics and I found I looked forward to our discussions. He had expressed that he did as well. He and I could talk while the girls learned to dance and whatever else. Bala would also benefit from the relationship, as I was sure my girls would educate her on the American way of life. They liked Bala as much as I liked Amud.

Amud and Bala visited us on Friday. Much to Janey's elation, I let her wear her collar during their visit. Sally had called Cece to help with the preparations, so things were going smoothly. Bala, Sally and Janey disappeared behind the flap of the tent and we could hear them chatting noisily.

We didn't notice when it got quiet, but suddenly we heard Bala exclaim loudly. We both became alert at that and watched warily as Bala surged out of the woman's quarters, pulling a half-naked Sally behind her.

"Look! Look!" she shrilled.

Bala dragged Sally in front of Amud and bared her fabulous tits to his view. I say 'dragged' more because I want to, rather than because Sally was resisting. She wasn't resisting and that surprised me. I also found that her lack of resistance touched an explosive anger deep within me that I didn't know I had. I knew Bala had sort of dominated Sally before during the fittings, but I wasn't sure it still carried over. Apparently it had.

As I had been trained to do in highly charge emotional situations, I froze with a blank look on my face. My enemies, those few still living, knew to fear that expression.

The whip marks I had made earlier in the week on Sally's lovely creamy white tits were healing nicely, but the marks were still clearly visible. In my jealous rage, I thought Amud's eyes would bug out of his head as he stared at those two whip-marked orbs, though in honesty, he tried hard to show a purely professional interest in them. He didn't quite succeed, but I later admitted his restraint. He was clearly uncomfortable and in an awkward situation. I saw him subtly shift his sitting position, trying to ease the pressure of his obvious erection.

Janey stood paralyzed in the doorway, forgotten for the moment. She had seen my face harden and it terrified her. I could sense that over the link. She could feel my jealous anger very clearly. What surprised me, as I later thought through all of this, was that Sally didn't sense it or that she ignored it. It was my first indication that their 'link' was imperfect and different for the two of them. Only certain things went between them and they couldn't sense the same things in me. At the time, however, that didn't mean shit.

What angered me most was that Sally had gone completely submissive. Again. I recognized that at once. It had been a point of contention between us the last couple of nights as we talked in bed. I would remove her collar and she would protest, ending with her softly crying in the night beside me, her hot tears dripping on my chest as we cuddled. I could take a lot, but when she cried, well, what can I say? I let her tears influence me. OK, OK. So I gave in completely. Call me a wuss. You try it next time!

I tried to explain to her that I missed the 'old' Sally. I told her what I had told Janey, that she wanted this too much and I didn't think she was ready. I knew I wasn't ready. She didn't care. She couldn't get enough collar time. She craved it after having done without for so long. She was like a kid with a sweet tooth locked in a candy store at night with no one else there. She was an addict and it changed her. It scared the shit out of me.

I knew she thought she was trying to help me by being the perfect submissive, but unfortunately, I wasn't even close to being the perfect Master. It wasn't a 'fit' that would work. I needed the love of my life to be the love of my life. I was willing to make changes, drastic ones to keep her, but I would not risk losing her.

I was caught on the horns of a dilemma, with both of my choices having a high probability of losing the type of relationship with Sally that I needed. It angered me that Sally now seemed to 'go sub' with anyone to get her 'fix', even another woman, in this case, Bala, the sub and wife of my friend. I didn't know or recognize at that time that women — and men — could be either dominant or submissive. Or both or neither. Like I said, this was new to me.

Bala had been extolling the exquisiteness of the marks, going in detail about the strength and control each showed. She had Sally hold up her tits with her hands to Amud, putting them mere inches from his face. In my silent rage, I imagined his hot, fetid breath caressing those orbs as he leaned forward, drooling down his chin, soiling his expensive silken tie. In actuality, he could hardly breathe, he was so scared, and he moved away from the temptation, not toward Sally. I didn't care. I saw what I wanted to.

When Bala began touching Sally's tits, tracing the welts with the tips of her finger, making suggestive comments to Amud in their language, I thought Amud was going to come in his trousers. Sweat beaded his brow and I saw him clenching his fists and teeth, trying to maintain control. It was obvious however that he was extremely attracted to Sally and her tits. But I couldn't blame him for that. Sally was an exceedingly beautiful woman.

Janey finally reacted when Bala began fondling her Mom's breasts, pulling out on her turgid nipples, rolling them between her thumb and fingers. When Sally moaned in a small orgasm, Janey moved quietly from her frozen position at the door and insinuated herself between the other two women. That seemed to snap them out of whatever co-generated trance they were in. Bala suddenly realized the horrendous error she had made. In her excitement, she had gotten carried away. I knew she had a good heart and only the best intentions. Sometimes things don't cross the cultural lines that well, however.

Sally pulled her top back together, somewhat reluctantly, it seemed to me. She took her damn sweet time doing it. It took forever before that last peek-a-boo nipple finally bid us all adieu. She had denied that the humiliation Gary put her through had turned her on, but it was obvious from the hardness of those turgid points that she did not mind this mildly forced exhibition of her body. True, Amud and Bala were not strangers and she was not being humiliated, exactly.

As she was led back to the women's quarters by a frantic Janey, I saw her glance at the crotch of Amud's pants, checking to see if she had an effect on him. I don't know what it is about women that they get insecure at weird times. But to me, that glance was like pouring gasoline on a fire. Somehow I contained myself.

Bala, trying to make things better, threw herself down in front of my pillow. After several attempts to communicate, she finally said, in broken English, "You want more practice, use this worthless sperm catcher," and pointed to her own chest. She had the sense now to keep her own blouse closed.

Amud was even more embarrassed with that announcement, so much so that he seemed to have been distracted from his arousal at seeing Sally's bare chest. He explained that Bala and he were terribly embarrassed that they had unknowingly breached a cultural protocol. In their country, these things were accepted. In fact, Bala was complimenting me on my quick mastery of the handling of the whip. My anger and displeasure had been apparent to all but Sally. His words helped, and though not abated, my anger moved from the front to the back of my mind, until it could be thoroughly and properly vented. As will happen with good friends, the evening continued and the events were ignored, if not forgotten.

We bid them good-bye, with both of them still acutely chagrined at what had happened. Sally and I both reassured them that we wanted to see them next week and not to worry about it. We watched their limo drive off. We stood there in silence, both dreading the return to our lives, but for different reasons. Janey had filled Sally in on my reaction and when attuned to it Sally was able to pick it up on her link as well.

The storm clouds erupted as soon as the door closed. Lightning flashed and the thunder rolled. I was in a rage. I bellowed and yelled. I thrashed and banged around. This is all very difficult to do when you don't move a muscle or make a sound.

I don't recall ever having been so angry in my entire life. Not when a South American Colonel wanted me to remain against my will in his establishment. Not when I had seen the photos of Gary touching an 11 year-old Janey. Not even at Steven, the boy who attacked Janey. Never! I shook. I literally shook with the internal tension.

My fury was palpable and must have been clear over the link, as Sally and Janey followed me to the cellar without a word, without protest. I stripped both of them without preamble, Janey, too. I wasn't thinking clearly. I knew it, but at the moment, I didn't care. I was angry, mad, furious, and I wanted satisfaction. I wanted to hit something, hard. I wanted someone else to feel the pain I was feeling.