A Game for Some

by Walt A.K.A. Xan

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© Copyright 2020 - Walt A.K.A. Xan - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f+; bond; oral; gag; rope; vinyl; flogger; cons; XX

All characters are fictitious and any similarities to any persons, living or dead are purely coincidental.

Continues from

Part 11

My dreams were strange, but they didn’t last long, and I could hear the family around me. Floating above my body, I could see them standing around my bed or sitting in the chairs. It was odd. I remember thinking, ‘So this is what death is like’, but I knew I wasn’t dead. Somebody right next to me told me I wasn’t, so I believed them. Geri and Freki tried to slow-crawl up the sheets and sneak closer to my head, but Janey kept bringing them back to the foot of my bed. God, they were growing so fast. Sam was on his phone and angry about something, but I had no idea what had upset him. Beth was crying. Janey looked like a rock, chin up, dry eyes and back straight, but I could feel the worry coming off of her. She was being brave. Jimmy was on his phone and Deirdre was trying to get members of this family to drink something. Minxy was checking the machines I was hooked up to and making notes on her tablet. Doctors, nurses and uniformed police just stood around in the hall.

I remembered talking to family members, dead family members, from a line that looked a little like me, but family members I couldn’t name. We talked philosophy, mysteries of the universe and swapped stories about our lives, although they seemed to know all about my life. Then one day I got a craving for pizza.

“Pizza, - - - pizza, - - - hey, on the door, can I get pizza?”

The guard on the door jumped straight out of his stupor and started yelling for doctors and nurses.

“I don’t know what he was mumbling, but he was asking for something.”

As the doctor on duty examined me, I croaked out, “Pizza.”

“Not for a while yet. How do you feel?”

“Hungry,” I tried to say, but it came out as a hoarse whisper.

“That’s a good sign,” and he did his doctor thing while I decided to take a nap. He was just too slow. I dreamed of deep-dish Chicago-style pizza.

When I woke from my nap the family was around me, including my kids who put two paws each on the bed, leaned in and licked my face. They’d gotten big. I reached an arm up for Janey. It was heavy and had tubes growing out of it, but I wanted my wife. She broke down when she hugged me. My little rock was sobbing uncontrollably. Her continued hysterics caused the doctor that came in to give her a sedative. Beth, Minxy and Deirdre weren’t much better. All were sobbing. Sam took my other hand and I could see tears in his eyes too.

An older man that had Army Medical Corps written all over him came in with a gaggle of white coated fledglings. One of them recited my medical stats while the others listened intently. Several took notes on tablets.

“Hello. My name is Dr. Thatcher. In my mandatory daily report to Senator French, he’ll ask me how you are. I report directly to him. Not his secretary, or a member of his staff, but to him directly. So, how are you?”

“Better, - - - with, - - - pizza,” I croaked out. Talking, or trying to talk was exhausting enough to leave me panting.

“That’s a good sign. I’m not going to allow our dietician to add that to your diet any time soon, and I’m going to remind all of your friends in high places that if they want you to heal, then they won’t sneak any in for you.”

“Scrooge... “

“Now. You took three rounds from an AK in your lower abdomen and after four surgeries so far, we have your system as close to normal as we can make it. You’ll go up later for the surgery necessary to see if you’ll ever walk again. One of those AK rounds grazed your spine. Dr. Kennedy is the best neurosurgeon this man could find,” pointing at Jimmy, “and this other man could fly in” obviously referring to Sam.

“POTUS wouldn’t be getting better treatment than you’ve received and will continue to receive. You’ll need to fight for your legs, but you have a solid support base. I know you’re a fighter, so fight soldier. Fight like you did escaping from the Republican Guard. Just fight. Your will to live is strong, so force that iron will of yours to fight for your legs.”

When he left with his herd of smock-coats I looked over at Janey, who was sitting in the chair, smiling at me and just a little out of it.

“She was your rock buddy. These are the first tears she’s cried since that day. She was your cheerleader, talking to you every day, reading her stories to you and doing whatever she could for you. When she wasn’t reading to you, she was whispering in your ear and folding those origami cranes. She must have folded two or three thousand of them. They were everywhere. Janey was, no she is our rock too. She would not allow any despair or pity to even knock on our door. And she has been this hospital’s worst nightmare. She’s researched everything and everybody in this facility. She knows more about this hospital than their PR department, especially the nurses on this floor and any and every doctor that sticks his or her nose through that door. Janey and these mutts terrorize everyone. You chose well my friend. She’s a keeper.”

To my surprise, Jimmy ushered everyone out and led me in some meditation exercises before they wheeled me and my bed up to surgery. This got me centered, kept all worry and doubt at bay, and gave me fresh reloads and extra magazines for my fight with fate. I was smiling on the way up.

Rehab was grueling. Helga, the SS-Deutsch-cunt from Buchenwald got me up and on my feet. Her real name was Hildy, and in all reality she was a sweet, dedicated, professional, with a grumpy, recalcitrant, ungrateful patient who loved her to death after the fact. However, during those days of, ‘just five more steps Bartholomew’, she did not immediately endear herself to me.

Sam assured me that she was the best therapist Jimmy could find, but with an occasional sip from his flask, I complained, as anyone in that kind of pain and frustration would. Actually, I think most of my complaining was Pavlovian, because I figured out early that if I whined like a little bitch, loud enough, Janey would try to calm me down with a sponge bath. I liked those. It never dawned on me to just ask her for one. I’m sure now that I just wanted to bitch about my therapy.

Within five months, my sticks were shipped by FedEx to the ranch to hang over my bar at His Lady’s Typhoon. Sam had retrieved my sword cane. Janey would wheel me outside on my chariot, and then I’d get up and the four of us would walk. No one argued with my service dogs, especially with a sitting US Senator telling the administration that they should be tolerant of the man that had saved his life. Geri and Freki were both legitimately registered, wore their vests and were well behaved, even when they had to share love with other vets. I think that all dogs know when someone is hurting and just needs a face lick and a wag of the tail to make them feel better. Getting these from a pair of wolves just made it even better. My fellow vets loved my wolves.

By some trick of genetics, Geri and Freki grew strong and tall, and looked more like wolves every day. At the V.A., they were especially good with the dependent children of other vets, who loved them, and my wolves loved them, even when the very young children would pull and tug on some part of them. Tolerance for small children was part of the genetics for these two. I smiled.

Their coats by now looked like mottled gray camouflage ghillie suit coverings. Normally, Malinois genes mean short hair, but with the way their hair was growing, I suspected a Groenendael gene had gotten reinforced in the mix. I would not want to need to acquire them as targets. Especially in low light situations. Watching them run when I threw them something to fetch was like watching fast and powerful knap-of-the-Earth missiles flying along. They were already close to their 40mph projected top speed and still growing.

During this time, after consulting the urologist at the hospital, and after clear evidence of wet-dreams, Janey started to give me regular head. She would station the kids right outside the door, telling everyone on duty what she was actually doing and indulging her favorite fetish with the man she loved. In the beginning, the on-call urologist would check me afterwards, but eventually, once they figured out that no harm was being done, all the staff just smiled. Three weeks later we had coitus for the first time in months and again, they checked, we smiled, and they tolerated our indulgence.

Frank took the train up from DC on a surprisingly regular basis, considering we were just North and a little West in Bedford Massachusetts, right outside of Boston. I knew that he’d had me moved to the best V.A. Hospital he could find, the Edith Nourse Rogers V.A. and that Sam and the family had just moved into a long-stay hotel 2.2 miles away from the hospital. Sam flew in the experts that Jimmy found for me and I healed. Well.

Surreptitiously talking about ‘The Canyon Glade’, because they had found a quiet little horseshoe canyon for our new training facility, Frank gave me highly edited running updates on the preparations. The Army Corps of Engineers were building Frank the site that he, Sam, Beth and Minxy had designed. Janey had been distracted. Tall, double fencing camouflaged and overloaded with sensors, cameras and non-lethal anti-personnel deterrents along the canyon rim would give trespassers pause. With only one road coming in or out of the facility, we believed it would be easy to secure. Frank said the vanilla aspects of this sex school had already started for a decent sized cadre of both men and women. He told me that anytime I was ready, I could start interviewing these kids for A.T.F.A.D, which was Advanced Training For Adult Diversions. I shook my head at the euphemism. I said I’d talk to Dr. Thatcher about early parole.

Just then Dr. Old Army wandered through the door, greeted Frank and started doing his doctor thing to me.

“So, doctor, when can we start digging the tunnels out of here?”

“I’ve just been waiting for you to ask. I would’ve signed your release forms last week, but I wanted to make sure you were ready to go home. With the medical supervision that you can get in Lexington, you’re fit enough for light duty, and I mean ‘light’ duty,” he emphasized. “Don’t let that cute little demoness of a wife bounce you around too vigorously for a while. She’s a force of nature, that one. Nothing heavier than you’ve been getting away with here. Now does this release me from my obligation to you Senator French?”

“Yes, Dr. Thatcher. We, you and I, are even. I needed him whole and functioning. Our government and I have plans for this man. Thank you, sincerely. Where are you going from here, doctor?”

“Someplace where you can’t find me senator. I was thinking about the Mars Mission, but that’s government run too, so, I’ll just go hide somewhere.”

Cocking my head like the pups, I looked at Frank quizzically.

“It’s a long story and there’s not nearly enough bourbon here for that retelling. Let’s get you signed out, packed up and notify the family.”

Janey came back in with sodas and squealed happily when I told her to pack me up while Frank and I went and signed forms. She was more than ready for the Bluegrass of Kentucky and our Lexington home.

Frank drove the Spider back to Lexington with Minxy decorating the passenger seat. They took their time so they could enjoy the scenery and each other. Jimmy flew the Citation X back with Sam, Deirdre, me and the luggage. Beth and Janey brought the kids back in the Land Rover. They had Merlin with them. The kids hadn’t gotten used to flying yet.

Merlin had never visited me in the hospital because as soon as he got inside, he freaked out and bolted for the door. He was a registered service dog, but I guess he couldn’t stand the combined scents of the hospital. Janey told me that from the look on his little face and how he reacted, she thought he’d met the ghosts of the departed vets that had died there right at the door. From the purity of their souls dogs can see things that we can’t. Short of carrying him in, fussing and fighting, he wouldn’t go past the door. That was okay though.

So it would be closer to all of us arriving back there together, Sam had Jimmy detour to Chicago, so the deep-dish was authentic. Deirdre had never had authentic deep-dish, and seeing her eyes light up was worth it.

Giving them the time it took us to stop off and get pizza gave Ben and Carlotta time to get the place in order. The family had been gone for many long months. Jimmy, on Sam’s suggestion, ordered a small three-man security team to sweep the place and to be there when we showed up. LPD patrols would be stepped up too. I felt fine with my G19 tucked away on my hip again, but Sam wasn’t expecting the first attack and wasn’t going to take any chances.

To myself, I swore I’d never carry a pistol with safeties on it again. When I put my finger over the trigger on a Glock, it’s ready to fire, and I don’t have to think of a grip safety and a thumb safety. Never again. Yea, I’m weird. So what?

On the plane back, Sam finally showed me what the surveillance cameras picked up that day. Once I pushed the senator out of the way, I instantly got ripped with the first spray. My .45 never cleared leather. Clem, the big fat asshole that I had knocked out, was the one with the full auto AK47 that got me. Five more goons that looked like family were with him, all averaging 6’7” or so. Two others had AK47s, although they didn’t appear to be full auto. They just had bump stocks, and the other three had shotguns. Clem’s little Lolita was driving one of the pickups. Some other skank drove the second getaway pickup. She got away by leaving them there in the middle of the firefight, driving away in a hurry when the shooting started. Sam said that the State Police got her later that morning.

Up on one knee, Frank shot Clem, the guy that had cut me down, with his goose-gun musket. Unfortunately, the big goon stayed on his feet, hurt but firing wild. About this time, Jimmy and Mike came out of the main house with pistols, rapid firing them, letting the magazines drop, slamming another one in, thumb-releasing the slides and continuing to shoot. They walked slowly forward, side by side but in a called-out erratic pattern, directly into the clan’s fire, blazing away with their sidearms.

When Clem emptied his AK and was trying to stuff another magazine in, Beth came out of the saloon, grabbed my .45 and, standing behind a porch post and using a two-handed grip to steady her aim, she emptied all seven rounds into the head and neck of this goon. Sam came out right on her heels and sprayed the clan with my Tommy gun, emptying the 50-round drum. By that time Jimmy and Mike were performing the coups de grace on the already dead bodies, and it was over. Somewhere in the fusillade, the Lolita took a fatal slug.

Jimmy ran for the Helipad to get the copter started and Mike administered what first-aid he could to me. Sam and Mike carried me to the Helipad and Jimmy took off in a hurry for the closest hospital.

I didn’t know any of this until just then. I’d been out of it.

“I’ll frame by frame this later, but thanks. It could’ve been a lot worse. Jimmy and Mike really saved the day.”

“That’s their job. That’s what I pay Jimmy to be able to do. Like I told Frank, I pay him to watch out for my family. You’re family,” and Sam walked away down the aisle. Remembering that day obviously upset him.

Walking out of the hangar that he kept the jet in, Sam casually asked me, “You know it’s that time of year again, so what are you going to my Halloween party for this year?”

Without missing a beat, I replied, “The Outlaw Josie Wales,” I said it like that character talking about him in the movie, slowly drawling out his name.

“I’m not in good enough shape to pack around an M-60, so Rambo was out, and others, like John Wick, Dirty Harry, and Agent 47 didn’t carry enough guns,” and I laughed.

“I, uh, want to be prepared for their cousins and other kin this year.”

“I got you some of those Kevlar reinforced clothes, like Jimmy and Mike wear. The vest and duster will go with the Josie Wales get up,” and we laughed.

“I hear these clothes are getting very popular down in Columbia,” and the twinkle in his eyes was mischievous.

“What are you going as,” I asked?

“Iron Man,” he said flatly, and it hurt to laugh that much.

When Janey finally got back, we spent a lot of time together. On long walks with the kids, who ran circles around us because we weren’t running with them, I sang or hummed ‘Have I Told You Lately’ to her. It made her cry with happy tears, but it made the kids just sit down and howl, which is why I went to humming. We laughed and hugged, happy with each other. It might not have been as elaborate as it was before, but Janey got tied up a lot those first few days.

Holding her one day while she was bound, I asked her about her books and if she shouldn’t be sitting down with her partner in crime and pounding keys. She told me her ‘new’ publisher, ‘Sam’s Wonderful Wise Words and Associates’, wasn’t pushing her and his wife to produce, under the current circumstances. Looking curiously at her, she confessed.

“The day of the incident, Marcia came down the stairs complaining about the racket. When she was told that you had gotten shot, Marcia made some off-handed comment about you probably deserving it and Minxy hit her, breaking bones. She broke several bones in her hand when she hit Marcia hard enough to break Marcia’s jaw. When I heard, I fired her as my publisher and Sam made good on his threat to buy out her business. Beth and I work for Sam now.”

“Marcia is jobless, bankrupt, and an outcast within the Writer’s Guild. Sam’s press releases ruined her. She’s also facing a plethora of legal difficulties. Hell, I’m suing her for everything she has left, citing mental duress as the cause for my now documented PTSD, falsely diagnosed by Sam’s psychiatrist friends. How dare she say you deserved being shot? I just wish I’d hit her first. I may yet. Minxy wore a cast for a month and we all signed it.”

I called Minxy over, had her fetch a Magic Marker and signed the inside of her forearm for solidarity. She kissed me and smiled when I explained.

For Halloween, Minxy told me that she was going to be a fetish nurse, in a tight, knee-length, white vinyl, hobble-tight pencil, lewdly displaying her chest and cleavage in a wide-fronted vinyl blouse and one of those old 40’s nurses’ hats, also in vinyl. I reminded her about long surgical gloves, and she smiled. She alluded to how she could wear a gag under her operating mask, and I gave her the green light with a thumbs up.

Deirdre was going as Snow White for her gig on the driveway. She adored making that many kids smile and thank her for their treats last year, so that was her job for the foreseeable future. She would do well as Snow White. Being a smartass, I wondered about hiring Little People dressed as cartoon miners to help her haul the pumpkins out of the truck and hand them to her, to hand off to the kids. Sam said he’d make that happen.

Beth still had the long, slinky, white, midriff gown from last year and with all the fancy Egyptian ornamentation, she decided that something sexier than jodhpurs and a bomber jacket fit her mood this year. Like everyone, she missed the sexual tension and attention of a fully functioning family like ours.

Janey thought about going as a clown but having ‘coulrophobia’ I nixed that idea before it got off the drawing boards. We decided that she was my angel, and Minxy said that with the layered application of diaphanous scarves, and a set of wings, that she could make the perfect angel out of my angel.

Frank was coming as Benjamin Franklin and this year, because they were over a year old, the kids were coming as warrior-wolves, wearing the latest DARPA body armor for our K9 corps, complete with cameras, and satchels for extra weapons and supplies. Actually, Merlin was coming too, but he would be up at the gate with Snow White and in a Winnie the Pooh costume. It was the only costume we could fit over his dog armor. If anything happened, we knew Merlin would take a bullet for her, so none of us were taking any chances this year. Actually, Snow White’s blue bodice would be a bullet-resistant vest. Also, her LPD guard would be doubled this year, along with the gatekeepers.

Surprisingly, the Governor riz-vipped for him and his wife. Janey was shocked but giggled. Over a year ago, sometime after our wedding, she told me that she had met the First Lady of Kentucky in a store. Apparently, it was a contrived meeting on Madeleine’s part. She wanted to meet the woman that her husband could not stop talking about. Over coffee, Janey explained how at one time she had been a pear-shaped BBW, just like Madeleine and how through a rigorous diet, lots of exercise and some cosmetic surgery she had remodeled her body, which now drew men like bears to honey. Janey told ‘Maddy’ how she could do that too. Conspiring with her, Maddy started working on it.

“We’ve stayed in loose touch since then and I’m guessing that a year later she’s someone that the Governor wants on his arm. We’ll see at the party.”

“I love you. I’m a lucky man to have you in my life,” and like they understood, both of the kids woofed a single woof, agreeing with me. They reminded me occasionally of just how smart they actually were.

This year’s shindig promised to be even bigger than last years. Almost all the invitees riz-vipped. I was thinking the nosy-Parkers wanted to see if the party was going to get shot up again, like last year. The press wanted in, but Sam said ‘no’, and used his legal eagles to make sure they didn’t try to use the 1st Amendment to try to get in. This was a private party on private land. The absolute owner, Sam, had said ‘no’, and no meant no.

On the day of the party the division of labor went as expected. Everybody had their jobs to do. Pete handled the food, drink and waitstaff. Ben and Gina took care of the horses and the stable. Carlotta and her staff handled clean up. Jimmy and Mike ran security, which was much stiffer this year. Deirdre and Merlin kept the children of Lexington happy. Actors in costumes visited and entertained the sick kids in the hospitals. Sam schmoozed the waitstaff and the guests, with Beth’s help of course. I was a bartender at His Lady’s Typhoon saloon and living room. Geri sat patiently at one end of the bar and Freki guarded the other end. Janey, Minxy and Beth were the hostesses for this party and all three of them made all of our guests feel welcome. Beth socialized with the upper register of their guestlist, Minxy entertained those with baser party habits and Janey just charmed everyone.

This year though, some of our waitstaff had special backgrounds and missions. Six of the waitstaff were recruits from Frank’s new school. Three pretty young women and three handsome young men were assigned to be friendly as they passed out drinks and hors d'oeuvres to the guests. They were told to be helpful, without saying anything significant, to gather as much basic information about the guests as possible and to flirt outrageously, without being intrusive or overt. Each was wired with a tiny hidden camera in their bowties and a button-mic capable of picking up most of the sound around them. Their name tags all identified them with simple, easy to remember names, like Ann, Andy, Betty, Bob, Cat and Carl. As cover stories they were all theater major college students, from UofL to work the party.

This was their first foray into the field, and I would be judging them on this performance. Some analyst would wade through the raw footage and I could examine those of interest on their recommendations. Social skills still gave me the best idea of who could be a ‘hummingbird’ for our projects.

That’s what I was going to call the ones I trained. Hummingbirds could fly forward, backwards and even upside down. I thought this was appropriate.

At the party, Janey’s suspicions were realized, and Maddy turned out to be a Janey clone in the looks department. Especially considering that without colluding on costume choices, Maddy came in a tight shiny black vinyl catsuit, with red flame appliques sewn on as a Devil costume. To the Governor’s chagrin, the two of them went off arm in arm and conspired even more so.

She told me later that ‘Maddy’ wanted to know the rest of the secrets of how she was so popular, and Janey told her simply, sexy girl lessons. Maddy wanted to sign up. Janey told her they could work on that after the party or the next day. Using one of the planted waiters to call Minxy and Beth over, they took Maddy up to their special room and explained a few things to her. They then inducted another woman into their cadre of vamps. Femme Fatales would not be a dying breed if our womenfolk had anything to do with it. I knew we’d be seeing more of Maddy over the weeks. The stunned Governor, dressed up as Teddy Roosevelt, was sitting with me at the bar. He was a bit flummoxed, but he’d get over it.

“The angel and the demon are not supposed to be friends!”

“They are, so have another shot and get over it.”

“But, but Janey and Minxy and I...”

“I know. I was there, remember? Hey, Janey got her to be sexier for you, so that’s a good start, isn’t it? Smile.”

“Yea, my wife’s looking like she did when I married her, but, but...”

“We just went over that. Relax. What’s the worst that can happen,” and I snickered, knowing what the worst was and wondering if the Governor was up for that weirdness?

I called one of our ringers over, who had been my barmaid for the last hour or so and had her sit there with him. Bourbon had loosened his tongue and he poured his heart out to her. Her twenty-year-old smile just nodded, and as she flipped her blonde hair, she patted his hand while he told her way more than he wanted to. This was a good lesson for her in getting information out of inebriated politicians. We’d fine tune her actions later, but she was naturally doing a good job. All she had to do was listen and look interested. She did both.

My toes got stomped on frequently by one or both of my drug-sniffers. Lawyers all had cocaine. Musicians did lines of speed. Bowls and spliffs of ‘the-good-stuff’ were burning all over the party but I put my foot down when some business execs, trying to hustle someone they’d just met, wanted to start shooting up ‘H’ in the bathroom. Freki alerted me and using my all-access palm print, I politely asked them not to. I showed them my badge and tapped my shoulder rig with the revolver in it, which was one of four revolvers, visible. Funny, they left the party shortly after that. Go figure. The rest had low odds of being an instant death warrant, but Heroin had a bad reputation in my experience. Sam could have a talk with them on Monday.

One couple sitting at one of my tables couldn’t keep their hands off one another, so I showed them the single brass bed under the stairs, pulled the curtain, which only hid the immediate visuals, and let them go at it. To the guy’s credit he did ask to rent a room upstairs, but I told him they were all booked by guests staying overnight. He tried. I respected that.

When Janey, my angel and Maddy, his demon, came down and confronted the Governor, he looked all embarrassed. Janey, who knew who Ann was in the scheme of things, asked for a report, and Ann gave her a straight up, almost word for word accounting of his behavior. The Governor was shocked, Maddy was amazed, and Janey told Ann to go serve another round of drinks. She did, without a question or a look back.

“Why do you think I had her sit with you Governor, knowing that our wives were right upstairs talking? C’mon buddy. Do you think there’s anything around this ranch that we don’t control?” and I poured him another shot.

Janey winked, Maddy laughed, and the Governor just buried his head in his hands, shaking his head. Up until that moment, he’d thought he was the big he-bull in the pen.

“So, Maddy, will we be seeing you around here? There’s much more to my beautiful wife than the aesthetics. She’s a special flavor of honey that attracts these bears, like your husband, and I couldn’t love her any more than I do or be more proud of her than I am. I’m a lucky man.”

“Don’t let him fool you Maddy. He knows tricks that make me feel all starry-eyed, like I’m sixteen again and in love for the first time. I’m the lucky one. He’s not into bragging but he is that good.”

“Please tell me at least one thing that he does that’s so special, Janey?”

“Well, for one thing, he sings love songs to me. They’re way off key, and the kids here howl when he sings, so he recites the lyrics and hums the tune for me. You and I can talk about the intimacies he does to make my toenails curl during our lessons, but truly, I’m the lucky one.”

“He’s a romantic! Who would’ve guessed? You surprise me Bat. Would you make me a drink?”

“What’s your pleasure?”

“Something that doesn’t taste like alcohol but has a kick.”

“Ever been bit by a rattlesnake,” and I pulled three bottles from the freezer and started pouring Kahlua halfway up a jigger glass. “Janey?”

“If you’re pouring, I’m drinking.”

Adding the white crème de cocoa over both, I broke out the Baileys and floated that on top of each.

“Ladies, these are shooters. Some have told me they taste a little like chocolate milk. Let me know if you might enjoy another one,” and both women knocked them back. Smiling with her eyes, Maddy motioned for another one and Janey winked at me as I poured.

After the third one, I said, “Maddy, carefully stand up and tell me how you feel. They are called rattlesnakes for a reason.”

“Oooh, I see. Those could be lethal without warning” and she laughed.

“Husband has many talents,” said Janey, smiling proudly.

“A gentleman bartender among them. Tell me Bat, any interest in bookends for the night? Or am I stepping on toes,” she asked?

The Governor groaned.

“Maddy, I’m still on the mend from being shot last year, and the limited sex I enjoy is reserved for my one and only. She owns and cherishes my heart. I would never insult you by turning you down. A pair of lovely bookends does sound delightful, but maybe another time? Raincheck?”

“A true gentleman, gracious and charming about it. Janey, treasure him. Augustus here could learn a few things from him. You have that raincheck Sir. Use it when you’re feeling adventurous. Now, another round, please.”

“That, I can do for you. Governor, more bourbon?”

From under the stairs came a request.

“Anybody got any rope out there? This bucking bronco needs to be tied down,” came the man’s voice, and we heard her giggle.

Janey laughed as she got up and found a coil of cotton clothesline we had hanging on a hook in the corner. She stuck it through the curtain and got a thanks from both of them, along with some squeals and giggles.

Maddy got even more surprised when she sarcastically asked, “What? No ball-gag for them?”

I reached under the bar, pulled Janey’s out, dangled it by the buckle, showing it to Maddy and tossed it to Janey on her way back. She delivered it through the curtain too.

“Go ahead and keep it. Call it a party favor,” she said smiling.

From behind the curtain came, “Oooh, that’s a big one, Mmmmph,” said the female voice. We laughed. The Governor just shook his head.

“You just ‘happened’ to have that under there. Janey, dear, just how involved are these ‘Sexy Girl Lessons’ going to be?”

“We promise not to do anything that isn’t consensual, and considering that Bat is a professional educator, we can explain, in detail, what we do, from both perspectives and every angle. These are lessons, not just indulgences.”

“Professional - - - ‘educator’?”

“Yea. Husband has way more than just one talent. He’ll never be a professional bartender, and he can’t sing worth a damn, but he loves me with all his heart, and he makes up for his singing in other ways, that I ‘really’ like.”

I smiled and took a sip of my Blanton’s.

Maddy’s stare reminded me of a hungry person at the window of a fancy restaurant, close to good food but only able to look. She couldn’t have been more obvious if she could’ve truthfully acknowledged her desires.

Deirdre came in and I poured her a rattlesnake, which I knew she loved. Maddy asked her, “You live here, don’t you?”

“Yes Ma’am. I’m the major domo’s significant other, and their in-house artist and painter,” she said, sounding very proper and very British.

“Are you taking these ‘sexy girl lessons’ too?”

“Oh, yes Ma’am. My Sir James says they’ve been a smashing success,” and she giggled and asked for another rattlesnake to bite her.

“And what do they do in these lessons?” asked Maddy.

When Deirdre opened her mouth to answer I held a finger up.

“Not in front of the Governor. We want to surprise him with a better wife than he brought here to us. Okay?”

“Oh, yes Sir. Mums the word,” and she looked at Maddy and giggled.

“All the women here, Bat?” asked Maddy.

“Beth, my ex, Janey, the angel of my life, Minxy, a friend who desperately needed a family, and Deirdre are the only ones. This is not a brothel. Just some women who are friends and share the beauty of a healthy and hearty libido. Their choice, surely. I just help out where I can.”

“I didn’t know that you and Beth...”

“Few do. I’ll let Beth explain the highs and lows of that history. Sam, Beth and I all met in high school and became friends. Obviously, we still are. Beth and I were an item for a while, but she fell in love with Sam when I went off to serve during Desert Storm. We recently patched up ‘all’ of our burnt bridges and Sam wanted to keep me around, so he built Janey and me this house. Sam and I are good for one another. We kind of balance each other out during the rough patches. Beth, even though she loves us, is convinced that we’re a couple of juvenile delinquents and barely tolerates our shenanigans. Janey holds us together like rubber cement. Minxy is our friend, seamstress and costume designer, and Deirdre is with Jimmy. Carlotta, Gina and Betty-Jo are not in this clique, so it’s not all of the women,” and I smiled.

“So, what’s first on my training schedule? Personal trainers have become, shall we say, ‘interesting’ since I started to redo the old frumpy Madeleine. Now, Maddy wants some fun, some adventure, something new and exciting.”

“Well, you might just have fallen in with the right crowd. What about gloomy Gus over here?”

“I showed him all of the documentation I’d been collecting over the years of his philandering and infidelities, so I have a free pass,” and she laughed, “signed by the Governor no less, to do any damned thing I want, anytime I want to do it and with anybody I want to do it with. Right Augustus?”

“Yes dear,” and he just hung his head and buried his face in his hands.

“So, if you want to take me into your bedroom, strap that ball-gag in my mouth, string me up, put nipple clips on my new tits and fuck me three ways from Sunday, have at it. I’m ready to play.”

“Now, if this is the rattlesnakes talking, we’ll have to wait until you’re a bit more sober, for true consent. We don’t do anything without negotiated consent. We have unusual and intense tastes and there’s too many ways for something to go wrong. Now, don’t get me wrong. This crowd is so libidinous that it makes this philanderer,” pointing at the Governor, “look like a young teen jacking off to daddy’s centerfolds in a dimly lit room, but ‘we’ do everything with consent and knowledge of who does what to whom, when, where, why and how. Do you follow me? You would be going from the penny ante poker game you play with aunty Jenny and uncle Jethro to 500K buy-ins for no limit poker at the big boy’s table. You good with this?”

“Momma-bear is ready to play right now, but you’re right, this is the rattlesnakes talking. What’s everybody doing tomorrow? I’ll be sober by then.”

“We’ll be right here, helping Carlotta clean up the last of this debacle. Her crew will take care of most of it, but we’re a family and no one does it all. Even if we’re out walking the kids, someone will be here, and we’ll be back.”

“Anything you want me to bring from the mansion?”

“Heels, honey, heels. These men are pigs for heels. Especially this one.”

“I resemble that remark,” and the girls laughed.

Maddy took the Governor’s arm and led him over to the main house and Janey and I cracked up. Other than a fist fight out in the courtyard between a couple of the musicians that had been invited, there were no volatile incidents at this party.

Everyone was out of there by five, except our lovers. We found them in the morning, sleeping peacefully in each other’s arms, very naked, very happy and very grateful. There was no embarrassment as we sat them down and Janey cooked breakfast for all of us while I fed the kids. Their names were Nancy and Jeremy and they were a couple of investment bankers that had assisted Sam in buying out the publishing house. They were delighted to meet the author that had started their windfall. They’d made a bundle off the deal. Janey served breakfast burritos and smiled.

Nancy tried to wash off the ball-gag and give it back, but Janey made sure they kept it and the rope as a reminder of a happy time. Nancy got all misty and they hugged like sisters. Somehow, the subject came back around to BDSM as more than turbo-sex, and the women exchanged numbers. On their way out I got a feeling the circle was widening.

It was around noon when we saw a helicopter land on the back yard. Janey and I were walking the kids, holding hands and happy just being close. It looked like a Bell, maybe one of the 206 versions, but I really couldn’t tell this far out. By the time we walked backed, we found Sam, Beth and Maddy on the patio. Pete was pouring them espresso and taking their breakfast orders. We’d eaten with the lovers at the crack of dawn, but we would eat a light lunch with them. Janey drew my attention to the fact that Maddy was wearing five-inch sandals and that she had a garment bag and a large leather satchel with her. Her dress was a little flouncy, short, but not too short and her cleavage was nicely displayed by the cut of the dress.

“Good morning,” she said, “I’m here for my...”

“BDSM lessons,” I said calmly, “or how to dominate the male gender with your submission. Everyone on the property now, knows exactly what goes on around here, so we do not have to talk in codes, or euphemisms. You wanted to learn how Janey and the others were so sexy and desirable to every man they encountered; well the answer is simple. Submission through BDSM. Now that you know our secret, you can either get back on Sam’s helicopter and fly back to Frankfort, or you can cross your wrists behind your back and then we’ll talk.”

Janey handed me some rope and I tied her wrists behind her back and then held up another rope for Maddy. She got up and crossed her wrists behind her for my attention. I adjusted their placement and tied her.

“I do remember asking for this last night,” and she giggled while I tied her. “But I just ordered breakfast from Pete!”

“Let me show you how Janey eats many of her meals,” and Janey got on her knees by my chair. Pete set one platter and Maddy’s plate in front of me.

“Kneel right there please, - - - thank you. For this introduction into our world, I will take a bite, then give Janey a bite in my outstretched hand. Then I will offer you a bite from my hand. No words are necessary. This isn’t a gothic romance novel where I must be addressed in a glorified way and you must thank me after each bite for feeding you. That much is obvious for this level of play. Keep struggling. I want you to ‘try’ to escape. It helps to reinforce it in your mind that you cannot escape from your limited bondage. Your bondage will get much more restrictive as the day progresses. So, are you in for a penny or a pound?”

“I’m in for a pound,” and Maddy was blushing furiously. She blushed and giggled during her feeding, and Janey gave her little encouragements through the ceremony, like how to lick my hand after each bite to help clean it off. For some semblance of solidarity, Sam tied Beth and all three of them ate their meal on their knees. Maddy could barely get out, “And what’s next?”

We walked her across the courtyard, bound, and she was very nervous.

“I told you we were safe here. Everyone knows and approves of our little games. As Jimmy once said to Sam, he treats the staff like family, pays them very well, doesn’t yell at them for the mistakes they make and he doesn’t fuck around on Beth, or she him, so they’re happy keeping our little secrets. You’re safe Maddy. We’re taking you to our dungeon.”

“Dungeon? Oh, My, God, a real dungeon?”

“No. Real dungeons need to be deep underground and have a castle as a stone hat. What goes for a modern dungeon is just a big playroom, dedicated to BDSM play. I taught at one of the ‘dungeons’ out in LA. That’s where we were introduced to Deirdre. At any rate, this is our basement. The rest of the house was designed around two things. This basement dungeon and my saloon.”

I untied Maddy and while I untied the other two, I whispered what I wanted to see them wearing. While I was talking to Maddy, I slipped Janey’s pants off. She wore pants on our hikes to avoid the chigger bites inevitable when you walked through tall grass for too long.

Janey slipped two pairs of pantyhose on and buckled a black corset on. Holding the suspension bar, we showed Maddy the difference extension made on her torso when I snugged her corset on. I did the same thing for Beth. She’d put on regular hosiery and some heels. Once her corset was on, we fastened the eight suspenders to her hose. Locking her knees and bending at the waist Beth smoothed the hose on her long legs in very erotic and sexy poses to show off. Then she had suspension cuffs put on her by Sam and she was hoisted up about two inches off the ground while he warmed up a flogger. Before he started though, I tied her ankles together and tied her heels on her feet.

“Happy?” she asked.

“You know that always delights me.”

“I know, but once, just once...”

“When Sam asks me not to, I won’t, but he is the sadist in charge of you, so I tie them on. Can you kick them off?”

“You know I can’t,” and she giggled.

“You see Maddy, Sam’s a sadist, and Beth hates for ‘me’ to tie her heels on her feet. We’ll get into the why later, but Sam wants her just that little touch more uncomfortable when he beats her. She does appreciate the hindrance to him performing a bastinado on her.”

“Now Janey over here is a bondage slut of the first order. She loves long endurance bondage, but she’s not fond of being beaten. She’ll accept one if I really want to beat her, but why? I like tying her up, she likes being tied up, and gagged, so we play to our strengths. Oh, maybe I should have mentioned that Beth’s a masochist and has been one since before her freshman year in high school. She and Sam are a good yin/Yang.”

Maddy just stood there with her mouth open, while Janey slipped into a pair of black bondage boots with a six-inch heel. Using some hemp rope, I tied a tight, knotted crotch rope on her and then she wriggled into a shiny red Hot Skirt and tugged her skirt down to the middle of her thighs, which was as far as it would go. With the application of a pair of shiny red satin gloves, with the Minxy inserts sewn in them, I backed Janey up to the stripper pole and began to tie her to it. With her wrists and elbows tied tightly behind the pole I continued and tied her torso to the pole and then tied her legs together at the ankle, shin, above the knee and mid-thigh, all tied to the pole too. When she was helpless, I had Maddy sit in the heavy wooden bondage chair in the center of the floor.

Then it was Sam’s turn. He started to lightly flog his wife. She hummed her approval as he slowly built her up. Blows with a heavier flogger that would make her entire body sway from each impact came next after the warmup.

Maddy had inspected Janey, noticing how secure she was without the ropes being excessively tight. Now, with my guidance as to where to stand, she had a front row seat to watch Beth take a beating. There was no doubt that Sam was putting his arm into it, and that both of them were enjoying it. When he determined the intercostals couldn’t take much more, he switched floggers and started whipping her tits and the front area of her crotch and thighs. Beth kept asking him to hit her harder, but he did her beating the way he wanted to do it. This was because when her tits were reddish pink, he got out the cane. This was an aluminum arrow shaft with a handle on it and he turned her butt into hamburger with well over 45 hard whacks.

I was counting. Then he handed it to me, and I added another twenty to the backs of her thighs while he fingered her into an orgasm. Beth never screamed or asked for mercy. In fact, she goaded us on to hit her even harder. Once we were finished, we used our fingertips and fingernails to further sensitize her post-orgasmic flesh. This made her moan and whimper, offering us anything we wanted.

Maddy was astonished and speechless. Wide eyes told us that she had never even imagined anything like this before. Janey finally broke the spell.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? I love being tied and watching them work her over.”

“How can she take a beating like that?” asked Maddy, almost in shock.

“This is how my Sammy shows me he loves me. I like pain Maddy. My Sammy knows how to take me right to the edge. He’s a master at this.”

“And you,” Maddy turned to Janey, “aren’t those toe shoes killing you by now? These five-inchers are bad enough, but those are even taller.”

“No, this is how I get my endorphins. Husband knows just how to do exactly what I asked him to do to me the very first day we started playing. He too is a master at this and gives me exactly and everything that I want. I truly love being tied just like this.”

“Maddy,” said Beth, “we’ve been playing these games for decades. It’s a game for some. For us it’s a lifestyle, so yea, we play a little more intensely than the turbo-sex junkies that spank each other for a little excitement. We’re dedicated lifestylers. So, are you in for a penny, or a pound?”

“Could I talk privately to the girls before I make a decision, please?”

Sam said, “Sure, just let me take Beth down. Bat, buddy, would you untie Janey?”

When they were all free again, we went up to the saloon and started sipping Blanton’s. Three hours passed, and we were bored so we went out to the range with Jimmy, Deirdre and all three dogs. Even though they were tall and gangly, basically all legs, we couldn’t exactly call them puppies anymore. Sam and I could have eavesdropped on the negotiations but in a way, that would have meant a loss of trust in our women. So, we went to waste some ammunition. Deirdre took an excess of pictures of Sam and I blazing away. She was going to turn this into another painting.

Sam had a portrait of himself wearing a suit in his corporate office, and another one in his arsenal, wearing Southern tails and a Stetson and cradling old number eight. Number eight did look like a Kentucky Long Rifle. He had a portrait of him and Beth in his living room. He was sitting in his EZ-chair and Beth was sitting on the arm of the chair, showing a lot of leg. A different version was of a well-marked Beth, naked except for hose, heels and ropes kneeling at his feet. This one was in their bedroom.

Deirdre had done one of Janey and myself in our western wear with Janey sitting on the bar and me leaned up against and in front of it. Wearing my Peacemakers and my Stetson the painted portrait looked like an old tintype photo, but it was a real painting. It sat over the back bar with number nine hanging on hooks right below it. Deirdre tinted our portrait to look old and worn, but it was done very recently. She worked off of photos, to avoid us posing for hours. We liked that.

Beth called Sam and informed him that she was bringing some fresh meat for us to roast over an open spit. He said fine, hung up on her and slammed in another 30-round magazine. When they pulled up in another ATV, Maddy was very helplessly hogtied on the back seat like a poached doe with a big ball-gag strapped in her mouth. She was very naked, except for her heels which were tied on her feet. Tied to the ATV so she wouldn’t fall out, or off as the case may be, Maddy looked strangely excited. I snickered at the imagery of a poached, high heeled, ball-gagged doe. Strange things amuse me sometimes. In lipstick on her butt cheeks was written: ‘In for a pound’, and ‘Grade A Prime’ on the other cheek. We had our answer.

Not too far behind them, Frank and Minxy drove up and immediately went over to inspect Maddy. Frank poked her a couple of times which made Maddy giggle and spew slobber from the ball-gag, which just embarrassed her even more.

“And where have you two been?” asked Sam sarcastically.

“We've been doing the Hokey-Pokey, ‘cause that’s what it’s all about.”

We all laughed and started to pack up, but Beth stopped us.

“We discovered something about the princess. Just leave her there.”

“Want to share with the rest of the class?” I asked.

“Apparently, our little slut-to-be Maddy had an interesting background. She was born into wealth and because she’s an only child she was raised like a spoiled princess. She had a doting father and when her mother died before her time, Maddy, at fourteen stepped right into her mother’s shoes, and became a bit more than ‘Daddy’s Little Princess’. Curvy, at an early age, and covered by their money, Maddy grew up without boyfriends or proper boy/girl social skills because she didn’t need them. She had ‘Daddy’, who tucked her in every night and told her what a good girl she was while he played the Hokey-Pokey. The randy old sot kept her happy and quite satisfied until he just got too old to get it up anymore. Then he married her off to a rising politico serving on his staff, named Augustus. Beginning to see the picture? And it gets worse.”

“This is an old story, written in historical accounts and the seedier romance novels since the dawn of literature. Let me guess the rest of the story. Augustus used her money to buy a progressive succession of offices, and the higher up the food chain he got, the less attention he paid to her, because he was beginning to garner power on his own. Instead, he discovered the delights of young interns, secretaries who just couldn’t say ‘no’ to a powerful man and pole-dancers for the va-va-voom factor. Too embarrassed to cheat on him, she got fat and proper, hosting fund-raisers and banquets for him being the woman behind the scenes. How am I doing so far?”

“Read the CliffsNotes version, huh? Yea, you’ve pretty much nailed it. Our ‘boy’, Gus actually threatened her into being the ‘good wife’. Want to expand this projection a little further? Maybe into the present?”

“Sure. I majored in rocket-science and minored in perversions. Anger based frustration drove her to both alcohol and pills prescribed by doctors on his payroll. One day, after a failed suicide attempt, a straightforward psychiatrist told her not to take this shit anymore and to become her own woman to find that happiness inside of her again.”

“On point, so far. Continue please professor.”

“About this time, Gus came home raving about a woman he’d met that reminded him of the woman he married, who was just the sexiest thing he’d ever imagined. Maddy contrived a way to meet Janey and they became friendly. Janey told her how she’d transformed into a butterfly, without going into specific details and Maddy crawled into her chrysalis and started her new transformation. When she got the physical down, she reminded old Gus that although she never said anything, she had the evidence to hoist him by his own petard. That should bring us up to last night. I’m figuring that after dragging this out of her with blacksmith tongs, she told you she likes to feel like the center of attention but wanted to suffer through a significant amount of embarrassment to get that attention. I’m gonna’ bet that that’s what gets our little princess off. Loving degradation. She doesn’t want to be a shit-sucking scum-puppy, she just wants to pretend to be one. How’d I do?”

“You sure you didn’t major in perversions and minor in mind reading? You really did study in those psych classes. Top marks, professoré.”

“So, we’re going to leave her tied to the bumper of the ATV until we’re done pleasing ourselves out here on the range, and then we’re going back to dress her up as a sexy slutty maid, make her serve us in degrading ways, licking our boots and such, spanking her when she doesn’t please us the right way, and then tie her up and make her watch while we have fun with each other. Right?”

“She’d love that and more. We just got ourselves a new maid and body servant. Now all we have to do is get creative.”


Continues in

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