Chapter 28: A Break in the Action

"Damn!"

That was all Bob could come up with when I told him the situation I had suddenly found myself in, which was – in a nutshell – over my head and sinking fast. I'd spent part of the last week taking Lizzy around to meet some of the other girls. It was just as hard on her as we expected it to be, but she managed to tough it out long enough to confirm what we suspected: all but two of the girls in Samantha's age group had split. Okay, split is the wrong word – all but two had manifested secondary personas. On a hunch I had her check one of the younger girls as well. I wasn't too worried about most of that group, but this one worried me more than the others. At least, with the older girls, I had a good idea what to expect. Spring was going to be a whole different kind of problem.

"Jimmy, I'm sorry, but I have to be honest with you; I don't know how much help I can be with this. My specialty is general and family psychology. I help kids deal with peer pressure and problems at home. I try to prepare them for the reality that adult life is not the fairy tale they think it is. This? This is way beyond my level. I maybe touched on it for a semester back in college. The reality of MPD was just starting to really come out. Most still had the notion of "split personalities" back then.

"That said, I have to agree with your assessment so far: the older girls probably all have protectors, possibly even the young girl ... what was her name?"

"Spring," I answered.

"Right, Spring. Hers may be a protector as well, but even if it is, she's likely to be very different from those generated for the older girls; and while none of them will be identical, most will be similar, but none will be like Samantha. You're right there, too; hers is different because she exists for a different purpose. Sam created her protector to protect you, not herself. Allison was absolutely right there; Samantha looks to you as her protector. That will not be the case with the others."

He had been pacing most of the time, stopping now and then to stress certain things, but now he stopped and leaned on the desk – a clear sign of his agitation. Normally he would be sitting casually on the corner: this time he was leaning on the front, both hands braced against it.

"Jimmy, you're on very dangerous ground here. I could maybe suggest some people to talk to, but..."

"But anyone trained and experienced is much more likely to recognize the significance of the dreams," Allison said.

"Yes," Bob answered, nodding his agreement. "With someone at that level, it is going to be much harder to suppress the memory of you in their dreams because they have trained themselves to remember their dreams – not just in general, but in detail. If you go to someone like that for help, you risk real exposure. I don't know how you could possibly keep the secret for long. Doctors at this level consult each other; they talk, about patients, experiences, therapies, anything and everything that might shed light on a patient's particular psychosis. Someone versed in MPD is likely to monitor and take note of any strange events in their own dreams because there is a good chance that it's a result of something they have experienced with a patient. I can't tell you the number of times I've heard of psychologists seemingly pulling a solution out of thin air, and then later, when they talk about it, saying it came to them in a dream. The kind of free association that is possible in dreams has been responsible for more inventions than you can imagine. Generals, fighting imaginary wars in their sleep, have come up with strategies no one ever considered before."

"So what you're saying then, is that while there are people I could talk to, I can't talk to them."

"I'm afraid so," he admitted. "God, I wish I had better news for you, but yeah, that's it in a nutshell. You would be risking exactly the kind of exposure you've been trying to avoid all this time because sooner or later some of these people are going to get together at a conference – someone will have a breakthrough and be asked to speak on it – and they'll start comparing notes. They're going to see a pattern where one shouldn't exist, and eventually they're going to come to the conclusion that the only explanation is that there was conscious thought behind the dreams, and after that..."

"After that we're screwed because they're not the kind of people that are going to chalk it up to a religious experience," Allison said.

"Exactly."

"Then we'll have to think of something else," Allison said, "or we'll just have to play it by ear and hope we don't make it worse for any of them than it already is – which is hard to imagine from a practical standpoint – but I understand is very possible when you're dealing with psychology."

"Right," I agreed. "We're dealing with unbalanced personalities, and regardless of how we approach the problem, we can't control the reaction, so we can't be sure how they'll respond."

"You know, I'm really starting to wonder why you kids bother to call me at all," Bob said. "Half the time I feel like all I do is state the obvious."

"Sometimes that's exactly what we need," Allison said. "This isn't one of those times, by the way. This time you've probably kept us from making a really big mistake. I can't speak for Jimmy, but my first thought was to do just enough research to figure out who the top people in the field were, and then have Jimmy bridge them for guidance."

"Since when can't you speak for me?" I asked sarcastically. "You usually do a better job of it than I do."

I rose from the loveseat Allison and I had been sharing while Bob paced around the room, and extended my hand to him.

"Thanks for your help, Bob. As always, I appreciate it. I'm glad I have you in my corner."

"You're welcome," he said as he shook my hand, "but I don't see how I've really helped the situation."

"Like Allison said, clarification if nothing else, but I also appreciate that a lesser man might have been unwilling to admit his shortcomings the way you just did. In order to protect his ego, someone else might have tried to fake his way through rather than risk compromising his standing in my eyes. But not you, and I can't tell you how important it is to me that I have someone like you – someone I can trust to tell me the truth and not just what I want to hear – to turn to."

"Well, thank you, Jimmy, that means a lot to me."

"It means more to us," Allison said, moving forward to hug him and kissing his cheek as she pulled away. "Come on, Jimmy, we've got work to do."

Elizabeth had to be back in Fresno for Rusty's wedding the weekend after finals, so Amber came to stay with Christine and me while she was gone. Lizzy's last final was Wednesday, and Amber had everything packed by the time she got back from class. Tanya drove them to the airport where they all had a last hug before Lizzy and Amber boarded separate planes west. There is nothing close to Fresno, and Lizzy's flight would not get into San Jose until after 8:00 pm. Rather than make the drive alone in the dark, one of the other bridesmaids, a girl named Paula that she knew from school, was picking her up at the airport.

"Is this the same Paula you and Stacy tied up and gave a 'cat bath' to the night the Sandman snatched you?" I asked.

"Yes!" she replied, a look of amazement on her face. "How did you know about that?"

"Your interview with Rebecca at the hospital. I think you were teasing her."

"Oh, you think so?" she asked with a wicked grin. "Anyway, yeah, Paula is picking me up. Stacy wanted to come, too, but she has to work."

"Bummer," I said. "So let me guess, by the time you get there, you're both going to be too tired to make the drive."

She gave a sad sigh and said, "Yeah, poor Paula isn't going to sleep well the night before."

"Poor thing," I repeated sympathetically. "I'm betting she's not going sleep much at all after she picks you up; she'll be a wreck by the time you hit the road. Just be careful."

"I have the strangest feeling we'll oversleep and get a late start," she said with a laugh.

Even though they left at almost the same time, Lizzy had a stop on the way, so Amber's plane landed a full two hours before hers. Christine drove me to the airport and stayed in the car while I went to meet Amber as she came out of the gate area. She was only there for the weekend, so she hadn't needed to check anything.

It was immediately apparent that Lizzy had dressed her for the trip, and I couldn't help but wonder if we shouldn't be charging the local chiropractors a fee for bringing her in this way. The number of heads, male and female alike, that were snapping around doing double takes, or just outright following her progress through the terminal...

She was dressed in classic 'bad schoolgirl': short plaid skirt, white shirt tied off a couple inches above the top of the skirt so you could see her toned abs; white stockings that stopped just below her knees, and black patent leather pumps. It was too bad her hair hadn't grown out long enough for pigtails; that was all she needed to complete the look. The spiked leather collar and candy apple red lipstick made up for it pretty well, though.

The three guys following her down the escalator looked like they were going to cream their jeans when she walked up to me and dropped to her knees. I petted her hair and then pulled her to her feet, kissing her cheek before taking her bag and walking her toward the waiting car. I held the back door for her and told her to flash her panties at them as she got in. I left the door open while I put her luggage in the trunk, so they could watch as she leaned over the front seat to hug and kiss Christine. She did her best to show off her ass as they tongue-wrestled hello. She was so horny I could smell her arousal all the way back to the apartment. As soon as we closed the door, she dropped to her knees and begged me to fuck her. Christine had other ideas, though; apparently she was expecting something like this and had been giving it some thought.

"Amber," she admonished. "Shame on you; begging is so unladylike. David, I think Amber needs a lesson. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," I said. It was pretty clear that was what Amber really wanted anyway; she knows how I feel about begging. "Amber, you will obey Christine."

"Yes, Master," she said, eyes downcast. Oh yeah, she was looking forward to this.

Christine may like to play at being submissive with me, but she had become quite serious about any opportunity to play dominant to Amber. I wondered if it was just with Amber or if it would extend to other women as well. I was seriously considering talking to Tony about possibly letting her and Tina get together.

"Don't move," Christine instructed before stepping into the bedroom. She came back with an assortment of interesting items. She dropped them all carefully onto one of the placemats on the small dining table. It was a thirty-six inch diameter glass top resting on a wrought iron pedestal. It was designed to seat three – a little small, but we didn't have a lot of company, so it worked well for us and fit nicely in the apartment.

"Stand up! Hands behind your back," she instructed. "Lock your fingers together; I want your elbows to touch.

Amber dutifully put her hands behind her and clasped them together. Have you ever tried to touch your elbows together? Thanks to her time with May, and many hours of practice on her own, Amber was very flexible, but the shoulder joints just aren't designed for it. It can be done – I've seen Cirque du Soleil – but the closest most of us normal humans will ever get is if we completely relax and then have someone else pull them together for us, and even that is likely to hurt. Still, Amber's effort put an interesting strain on the buttons holding her shirt closed. That didn't last long as Christine stepped in front of her, stuck her hands in one of the gaps, and tore the shirt open violently. Amber gasped as buttons flew everywhere.

"Silence!" Christine demanded, grabbing her face.

I could see the flush of excitement creeping up Amber's chest as she began taking rapid shallow breaths.

Christine then moved behind her, pulled the torn shirt down her arms, and used it to tie her arms tightly at the elbow. They still weren't touching, but that wasn't really the point anyway. Once her arms were secure, Christine unhooked Amber's bra and dragged it up over her head so that it hung on her bound arms, leaving her front bare and exposed. Obviously, I hadn't been paying proper attention, or I would have noticed that Amber was wearing the little clips May and I had picked out for her. Christine tugged at them gently, pulling the tender flesh outward. The clips were not designed for rough play, so it didn't take much for them to pop free, causing Amber's breasts to bounce slightly as they resumed their normal shape.

I thought Amber was going to explode when Christine began pinching and tugging at her nipples. She did her best to endure it, standing silently, eyes closed, concentrating on her breathing. She was doing fine until Christine sucked her left nipple, and a large amount of the surrounding flesh, into her mouth and bit down on it.

"Ughhohgnn!"

It wasn't actually a word, more like a sound she had tried not to make and then tried even harder to stop once it started. I could see tremors racing up and down her body, and I was pretty sure she'd just had a small orgasm.

"What was that?" Christine demanded, releasing her breast and then slapping it hard, eliciting a small cry from Amber. "Didn't I tell you to be silent?"

"Yes, Mis..."

"Silence!" Christine barked. "You pathetic bitch! Can't you follow the simplest instructions?"

She grabbed Amber's hair and marched her forward to the glass table. Sweeping the toys she had brought from the bedroom onto the floor, she moved Amber forward until her thighs were pressed up against it and then pulled her head down, forcing her to bend at the waist. I saw Amber gasp as her breasts hit the cold glass surface, but she gritted her teeth and remained silent.

"Don't move." Christine snapped and then stepped back where Amber couldn't see her and left her there for a few seconds.

Once she was out of sight, she looked at me and made a shocked face that said she couldn't believe Amber was going along with all this, but also showed clearly that she was enjoying herself immensely. I motioned with my hand for her to spank Amber. Her eyes got big, and she gave me a questioning look as she mimed the gesture back at me, but her motion suggested a light slap. I shook my head negatively and made the gesture again, this time emphasizing more force.

She nodded to me and said, "You disappoint me, Amber. Your master has told me so much about you, about how well trained and obedient you are, and yet you cannot seem to follow the simplest instructions. I think we need to work on your control."

Stepping behind Amber, she flipped her skirt up, grabbed the waistband of her white cotton briefs, and pulled them forcefully down to her knees. I was impressed at the action; many novices make the mistake of taking them off at this point, but that's a mistake in this type of game. Think about it; when your parents were going to spank you, did they tell you to take your clothes off, or just drop your pants? Taking them off makes it about sex; pulling them down is about punishment.

The silence was suddenly shattered by the sound of Christine's hand landing hard on Amber's ass. I saw Amber's body jerk on the table and her butt muscles clench involuntarily, but she didn't cry out.

"Count," Christine demanded before slapping the other cheek.

"One," Amber said loudly.

"One?" Christine demanded, slapping her hand down again. "Can't you even do that right?" She emphasized the next part with another hard slap for each syllable, alternating cheeks as she went. "You-will-pay-at-ten-tion! Do-you-un-der-stand?"

"Yes, Mistress!" Amber cried.

"You had better," Christine said. "How many so far?"

Amber hesitated, obviously trying to remember.

The hand landed hard again. This time Amber visibly winced. I wasn't surprised. Her ass was bright red by now, and the pauses just made the next one hurt that much more.

"How many?" Christine demanded.

"I don't know, Mistress!" Amber replied tearfully. "I lost count."

"Then we will begin again, count,"

"Please, Mistress, no," she begged. "It hurts, and ... OW!"

"Count!"

"One," Amber said quickly.

"What was that?" Smack.

"Two!" Amber cried, louder this time. It went on from there.

"Three ... four ... five ... please, Mistress, I'm so ... six ... sorry Mistress; I ... seven ... I will do ... eight ... better! I ... nine ... promise! Owww! Ten."

Christine paused, and I could see the involuntary contraction of the muscles in Amber's butt and thighs as her body anticipated the next painful blow. I could also see a telltale wetness running down the inside of her left thigh. She was enjoying this more than Christine was, and that was saying something.

"Very good, Amber," Christine said. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, Mistress," she said. There was pain in her voice, but I noticed her eyes were dry.

"Would you like me to kiss it and make it better?"

"Yes, Mistress, please, Mistress."

Christine knelt behind her and began showering light kisses randomly around the inflamed flesh, running her hands lightly over the surface, and up and down her legs and thighs, slowly moving closer to the wet center as she went. When her hand finally contacted the swollen outer lips, Amber's head snapped up and back, her lip trapped between her teeth to keep her from crying out. The kisses continued as Christine began to play with Amber's sex, running her fingers through the folds, spreading the wetness and teasing at the opening they revealed.

Christine had never spoken to me of her night with Elizabeth, but when she used her thumbs to part the tender flesh and then leaned in and placed a delicate kiss on Amber's most sensitive area, there was no doubt in my mind that she had taken the plunge.

Christine prides herself on her oral skills, and apparently it didn't matter whether her partner was male or female. She took Amber right to the edge twice, stopping just before it was too late and returning to kissing and caressing the round globes on either side. If Amber was horny before, she was desperate now, but she knew better than to beg. That's what had gotten her into this predicament in the first place.

"Do you want to cum?" Christine asked softly.

"Yes, Mistress," Amber replied equally softly.

"Yes, I'm sure you do," Christine said before sinking her teeth forcefully into Amber's left butt-cheek.

Amber gasped, her head once more coming up, the muscles and tendons in her neck standing out in sharp relief at the strain, but still she didn't cry out.

When Christine let go, you could see that while she hadn't broken the surface, if she died tonight I doubted we would need to send away for dental records to identify her. She showered kisses around the mark as she reached with one hand and retrieved 'Bob' from the pile of toys on the floor. Stepping away, she was careful not to touch Amber anywhere else as she turned him on and began teasing just the tip around her sex. It wasn't long before Amber was breathing hard and straining to resist the urge to push back for more.