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Spotlights Ch. 03

By: infiniteocean



Chapter 3 - Playtime in the morning

It was early Saturday morning. The birds in the garden were shrieking their empty heads off, while Jenny was wide-awake, feeling seriously randy. A month of abstention, a punishment and a strenuous bondage session had broken a dam holding back her sex-drive. She had a serious itch and just the tool to scratch it was lying on his back next to her, stretched out and soundly asleep.

Jenny planned her campaign carefully. Crouching next to Peter, she gently blew in his ear. No response. She blew a little harder. Still no movement. She kissed along the line of his jaw. Nothing. She licked from his throat up to his chin. He moved his head a little. She did it again, ending with a kiss on his lips. Peter was slowing rousing. She did it a third time and he stirred, opened his eyes to see it was still dark and groaned with fatigue.

"Are you awake, Master?" Jenny asked innocently.

"I am now, Slave, thanks to you. What do you want?"

"You know what I want, Master."

"Well you can't have it. I'm exhausted."

He could not see Jenny's pout in the dark but he could hear it in her voice.

"I just want to please you, Master."

"That would be a nice change."

"I mean I want to pleasure you," she said, ignoring his sarcasm.

"Well, I won't stop you doing that, so long as you don't mind my going back to sleep."

"Thank you, Master," she said, thinking "Try sleeping through what I plan to do."

She began kissing him, softly working her way from his lips to his neck, then over to each shoulder, back to his ribs and down to his belly. She took his hardening cock in her hand and began stroking it as she nuzzled his pubic hair. When she had stroked Peter erect, Jenny moved to kneel over his outstretched legs. She took the head of his penis in her mouth and licked its sensitive rim, working her tongue around and around. Peter groaned and put his hands in her hair, giving up his pretence of sleeping.

She alternated her actions now, kissing his testicles, licking up the shaft of his penis and sucking on its head, driving him to wild grunts. Peter was fully hard and began to thrust with his pelvis when she took him fully into her mouth. Jenny was also aching with her own need and began to stroke her clitoris. Her tension built quickly and she was on the verge of an orgasm when her relaxed attention to his penis alerted Peter. He guessed what she was doing and abruptly commanded:

"Slave, stop that!"

"Ob augh, Mathther?" Jenny evaded, sounding as innocent as possible for a woman with her mouth full of hard cock.

"You know very well what, Slave. Put both your hands on the bed and leave yourself alone."

"Oh, Mathther! Uh eally eally, eegh oo umm. 'leethe, Mathther!"

"You can cum when I feel like making you cum ..."

"Mathther!" she wailed.

"... which happens to be now, so present yourself to me here."

Jenny quickly disengaged and scrambled over his body to kneel beside his chest, waiting instructions. He pushed himself down the bed and ordered:

"Face the headboard, Slave, and let yourself down onto my face."

Peter supported Jenny by the waist while she gripped the top of the headboard and bent her legs. First, he suckled on her clitoris. Then he firmly muzzled her pussy, flicking his tongue in all directions. She closed her eyes and groaned. He kept varying his licks, basting her clitoris, licking along her swollen labia and inside her vulva to her vaginal opening and the sweet spot it contained.

Waves of pleasure cascaded around her body as Jenny felt the orgasm approaching and bucked so wildly he had to hold her sadly bruised buttocks to keep his tongue in place. Then she came, moaning loudly, her juices running down his chin. Peter left her sensitive clitoris alone but kept licking her pussy lips and stretching into her vagina. Ripples of pleasure arched her back. She spasmed again, finally losing the strength in her legs and collapsing onto his chest.

Peter held Jenny tightly to him while she came down from her peak. Soon she was breathing calmly and smiling her pleasure at him.

"There's something I want to do for you, Master" she said.

"What is it, Slave?"

"Use my bottom, please, Master."

"With pleasure, Slave. Make yourself ready."

Jenny fetched a condom and a tube of lubricant. She gave Peter the tube and turned around on all fours to present her bottom to him. Peter smeared lube around her anus and thickly onto his fingers, rubbing the lube around and around her small hole, occasionally dipping inside with his forefinger. The sensation was luxurious for Jenny, though she gasped each time he penetrated her. She was very tight since being neglected for so long.

After a few minutes, Peter could get his forefinger into her up to the third knuckle and, letting her relax, squeezed another good measure of lube into and around her hole and began to infiltrate two finger-tips. Jenny tried to breathe deeply and contain her discomfort. When he had two knuckles inside, he rotated his hand to spread the lube copiously around her rim.

Jenny was feeling nicely used and thought she was ready, so Peter invited her to put the condom on his penis with her mouth. She did so expertly and he smeared it thickly with lubricant. Then she asked how he wanted her.

She was feeling energetic, so Peter decided it was best she should ride him; then she could control how quickly she would take in his penis. Gratefully, Jenny waited for Peter to settle back before she got in position and, holding his rigid penis, slowly lowered herself until its tip met her tightly puckered hole. She let herself go lower and there was pressure on her anus but no penetration. She raised herself and tried again. She was still too tight.

"Master, will you help me please?"

"If you are sure, Slave."

"Yes, Master. I want this."

"Very well."

Peter held her waist as Jenny lowered herself again and pulled her down firmly to continue past the obstruction, making her gasp. They stayed in place until Jenny said she wanted more. Peter helped her down further. Pretty soon, Jenny was taking his full length; then she was riding him steadily and he was thrusting up at her. He moved one hand to rub her clitoris. She cried out her pleasure and rode more vigorously. The tight rub on his penis pulled him toward a climax faster than he could control. Soon his wild Slave had goaded Peter to a pulsating release, calling her name as he ejaculated.

Later, with Jenny lying on Peter's chest, her sweat mingling with his, they went contentedly to sleep and did not wake again until it was nearly noon.

Only after they had showered and Peter had applied soothing lotion to her itching buttocks did Jenny see his note on her dressing table mirror about David and Samantha Harding coming to dinner that night. Jenny was grateful to tie up a loose end but not so grateful for her bottom's sake. How could she sit at a dinner table and make polite conversation when her bum itched like buggery? No doubt her discomfort was designed to amuse Peter and she had the sudden thought 'I have created a monster'. She smiled happily and set to work.

Jenny phoned Samantha to verify that the dinner party was still on. Then they spent the remaining hours until 7pm preparing the house and cooking; nor did she send Peter out more than once on unnecessary shopping trips.

***

Spotlights continues in Chapter 4.

Spotlights Ch. 04



Author's Note:

This story is complete fantasy. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, companies or inventions is purely accidental.

The story will make more sense if chapters 1 to 3 are read first.

**********

Chapter 4 - A compromise is proposed

Jenny had fun dressing up for the dinner party in a white corduroy shirt with gold buttons, a grey tartan mini-skirt, thick red woollen stockings, black patent leather shoes and giant gold hoop earrings. She ought to have looked like a teenage fashion victim but she looked fabulous.

Samantha and David arrived promptly, bearing flowers and wine. Jenny and Peter met them formally at the door, where Jenny introduced Samantha and David to Peter. He shook their hands and offered to take their coats while Samantha gave Jenny her flowers and David presented a bottle of Sancerre.

Samantha was taller and older than Jenny and just as beautiful as Jenny had said. She wore a slinky black dress, tight about her slim waist to emphasise her curves and generous cleavage: the word 'voluptuous' might have been invented for her. In her spiky high heels, she exuded power and confidence. Jenny glanced at Peter to check he wasn't drooling but he kept himself under control. David was shorter, stouter and older than Peter: the sparkle in his eye seemed to defy the conventionality of his grey suit. With an approving smile at Jenny, Peter took their coats to the cloakroom.

The four made small talk about village matters while Peter opened David's bottle and filled their glasses; but it was clear that Jenny and Samantha were eager to discuss their project, so they huddled together on the sofa while David and Peter got to know each other. David lectured on art-history at the local university and had only a philosophical interest in business, which suited Peter fine at the moment. They discussed painting, music, poetry and the state of the nation and were quickly becoming good friends when a timer in the kitchen alerted Jenny and Peter to the imminence of dinner.

During dinner, Jenny fidgeted a good deal and could not sit still. The injury to her bottom was bothering her. Occasionally, when she sat down abruptly, she tried to cover moans of discomfort by coughing or jumping back up to fetch something or other, which greatly amused the sadistic Peter.

The dinner and wines were lovely and promoted conversation. Samantha and Jenny wanted to know what their husbands had discussed and, when told, made their own contributions to the topics of the Flemish Primitives and the cantatas of Bach.

The main course over, Peter asked Samantha and Jenny if they were ready to say what they had been concocting.

"Not quite yet, Peter," Jenny answered, "but if David and you don't mind us continuing to discuss it now, we think you may be able to contribute."

"I doubt it in my case," said David, "though I would be pleased to listen. Sam hasn't told me anything yet."

For David's sake, Jenny began with a short description of Lumenite; then Samantha took over, telling them about the business partnership they had been discussing and the possible conference centre contract. If they won the contract, they would have about six months to get Lumenite into production. Sam's plan was to buy an existing business and convert it. She had a company in mind, in fact, in the local town. She thought they could acquire and retool it for about a million pounds.

"Is that a lot or a little for a manufacturing business?" asked David.

"A little, in this case," answered Samantha.

"What's wrong with the business, then?"

"You cynic, David; but actually you are right. Like many businesses that are suffering from the recession, it's headed for receivership. It's a small firm but it will do for a start and we can expand later. This part of the deal is new to Jenny, so I'll tell you as much as I can."

"This should be interesting. I don't think Sam's ever lost in a business deal;" said David, "not that I always approve her methods" he added in a stage whisper to Peter.

Samantha ignored his comment and continued:

"The company I am thinking of buying has got itself in debt during the recession and will close soon if someone doesn't come up with a large loan. What I plan to do is wait for it to fail and make an offer to the receivers."

"Won't that take a long time?" Peter asked. "Aren't receivers slow to dispose of assets?"

"That would have been an objection but now Jenny has proposed a solution. I didn't realise, Peter, that you run a manufacturing firm: I thought Jenny told me you are an engineer."

"I still do some engineering design but I have been promoted into management. I don't actually run the business: I report to the owner."

"I see. Well, Jenny said your company makes the prototype Lumenite but you are not geared up for mass production; so what I thought was that we should use your company to fulfil orders until our own factory gets going. You see, my original plan was to step in with a last-minute loan for this failing company in exchange for a controlling interest; but with your help I won't need to and Jenny and I can wait a while and buy it outright for a song."

"Sam, I am not sure I agree with this plan." Jenny cautioned: "I would rather Peter's company did all the manufacturing."

"You said they don't have the capacity," Samantha rejoined, "and, besides, buying the failing business is an opportunity we cannot pass up. Not only do we get the plant and premises cheaper, we don't have to pay off the staff or the previous owner; and we can hire the staff back at reduced wages."

"Sam, Dear, you are quite immoral," said David.

"Why is it immoral to buy something for the best price one can get? You didn't pay over the odds for your new car, David: you shopped around to find the best value for money. This company has little value under its present owner and will be good value when he is gone and Jenny and I invest on new plant. As for the staff: they have no prospects at the moment but will have real prospects under Jenny and me, so why should we pay them more than the market rate, which happens to be lower at the moment?"

Jenny and David were both about to make objections but Peter, who had gone red in the face as she was speaking, stalled them, shooting a question at Sam:

"How do you know the business will fail and not be saved by a last-minute loan from someone else?"

"Because I am advising the bank which is the company's main creditor" she replied, not noticing the aggression in his voice.

"And this company: is it Culpepper Electronics?"

"How do you know that?" Samantha asked.

"Because I work for Culpepper Electronics. You're Sam Johnson." Peter stood, accusing her: "You're the bitch who's ruining my company!"

They were all shocked by this angry insult.

David got up to put a protective hand on Samantha's shoulder, saying to Jenny "I am afraid we have to be going now. It was a lovely dinner, thank you...." Samantha was stupefied. Jenny also stood up briskly and exclaimed: "David, you and Sam have to stay" and, turning to Peter, she took his arm in her hands and said: "Peter, Sam is our guest!"

Peter collected himself for a minute, then put his hand over Jenny's to reassure her and turned to Samantha saying:

"I apologise, Samantha. Please will you forgive my outrageous language? I had no right to insult you and I deeply regret it. I hope that for Jenny's sake you will excuse my rudeness and not leave early. Jenny, David, I am sincerely sorry for my outburst." 

"Yes, Sam, you must stay, please?" Jenny implored.

David then said to his wife, "Sam, I call that a handsome apology. What do you say?"

"I don't accept it," she answered, sternly: "We should leave."

"But I want to stay, Sam, so I accept Peter's apology on your behalf."

Peter and Jenny shared a look but said nothing.

"You can't do that, David" Samantha protested.

"I can and I do," he insisted "for two reasons: first, according to a prerogative you cannot dispute; and, second, because Peter is quite right: you are a bitch."

"David, really!"

"Don't deny it, Sam, considering the stories you have told me of how you take over companies, push people out of your way and take advantage of every trick of the law to crush your rivals. The word 'bitch' sums it up nicely. You revel in your power over people and never stint yourself in employing it."

"You've never complained of my business methods before, David."

"No, God forgive me, I have always admired your cunning; but you were ruining people I didn't know, or who stupidly thought they were ruining you. In the present case, it is personal and I take Peter's side: you should leave his company alone."

"You are naïve, David. This is how business works. If I were a man, you would not call me a 'bitch': you would admire my drive, my energy, my hard-headed determination."

David sat down to consider this seriously.

"Is it true?" he asked Jenny and Peter. "Am I being naïve?"

Peter let Jenny answer first.

"If so, David, then I am also naïve. I believe business is about trust and decency as well as profit and I don't see how putting one over on the other fellow fits in. Sorry, Sam, but a businessman's credo is 'my word is my bond' and Bob Martins gave his word about that loan. ... As for expecting Sam to act differently from a man in the same circumstances: Sam, I assume you are not one of those idiot feminists who says men and women are equal and then demands special privileges for women to make them so?"

"Of course not," said Samantha. "God, no!" corroborated David.

"Then I agree it is unfair to call Sam a 'bitch' when we would admire the forthrightness of a man; but, you see, I do not admire forthrightness if it is dishonourable."

"And you, Peter?" David asked.

"It is hard for me to answer because it is my company involved; but actually I think you and Jenny are somewhat naïve, David. There is honour and decency in business but also contest and rivalry, which I have learned to approve since I took on more managerial tasks. Sometimes bad businessmen should be taken advantage of because they otherwise spread incompetence: they use up resources or staff that might be better employed elsewhere. In my case, I objected to Sam's actions because I could see no reason for her to ruin Culpepper's. Now that I know what her plan is, my objection is purely personal, not commercial."

Samantha granted Peter an appreciative look at the end of his speech.

"So what are we to do in this case?" David asked.

"Nothing," said Samantha. "Jenny may disapprove my methods but she cannot suggest a better plan. And now we know that the company I wanted to use to ease my takeover of Culpepper Electronics is Culpepper's itself, the revised plan is moot and the original one stands: Jenny and I will take over Culpepper's in lieu of its bank debt and Lumenite will become a great success. Don't you agree, Jenny?"

"No, Sam, I don't. I don't want to profit from Horace's bad luck."

"If we don't, Jenny, then someone else will," Samantha said gently "and the jobs of Peter and his staff will be lost anyway."

"That need not be the case, however," said David: "I can see a way to resolve the problem. Sam must compromise. Sam, you can grant Culpepper's an extension of the loan and offer a new loan, can't you, so that Culpepper's can buy new plant to put Lumenite into production?"

"That's not a compromise, David," Samantha protested, "That's a surrender."

"It may not be a business compromise but it is a compromise between your business principles and your social principles."

"Which social principles?" Samantha asked.

"Your friendship with Jenny. I don't want Jenny to break with you, which will surely happen when you make her husband jobless."

"I don't think that's likely to happen. Jenny and I will be business partners because no one can be as useful for Lumenite at the moment as me. Assuming Jenny could bid for the conference centre contract, she needs to solve the technical problems of Lumenite first, but Culpepper's has no cash for research, nor can it invest in the new plant necessary for large-scale production. What assets can Jenny borrow against? Culpepper's will never survive long enough to produce Lumenite commercially. Jenny's only hope is in partnership with me."

"That's all true, Jenny" said Peter.

"However, for Jenny's sake, I am prepared to offer this compromise: we offer Culpepper's a last-minute loan, as I intended, to make Jenny and me co-owners and we re-open as Lumenite Limited with Peter as general manager and we keep those members of staff who want to stay on renegotiated contracts. What do you say?"

"Brilliant," said David, with genuine admiration. "No," said Jenny, firmly.

"Think about it first, Darling," advised Peter. "It's a good offer, even if it leaves Horace with nothing."

"I wasn't thinking about Horace, Peter, I was thinking about us."

"If you mean that I will be taking orders from you and Sam, then you know it would not bother me in the slightest."

"It would bother me, though" Jenny insisted.

During this exchange, Samantha had granted Peter a respectful look and now addressed herself to him, saying:

"Peter, I am sorry I was ungracious before. I do accept your apology."

"I am glad," he replied. "Thank you."

"Incidentally, Peter, Johnson was my maiden name: I kept it for business purposes."

"Now that we are all friends again," said David, relishing his assumed role as adjudicator, "surely we can reach a compromise. I proposed one idea. Sam proposed another, which Peter seems to approve. Do you have an alternative idea, Jenny?"

"I do, David, but I am still thinking it over. I need to do some working out."

Jenny then fetched a notepad and a pencil and began jotting down ideas as the others continued the argument. Peter was saying:

"I approve Sam's second plan but with a minor amendment so that Horace gets his pension, the staff who stay keep their current wages and those staff who want to leave are treated generously."

David was impressed with this idea as well but Samantha quickly rejected it saying that it could cost their partnership half-a-million pounds. Jenny had stopped writing to pay attention while Peter spoke, then she returned to her sums and (a sure sign of her deep thinking) began tapping the pad with her pencil.

The discussion, accompanied in the background by Jenny's scribbling and tapping, ebbed and flowed without progress, despite solid interjections by Peter and requests for clarification by David. Some time later, Jenny stabbed an emphatic full stop on her notepad and underlined her final entry. She raised her head to see everyone looking expectantly at her.

"Sorry," she said, "I've not been following all the discussion. What happened after Peter's proposal was rejected?"

"It's been an impasse ever since, I am afraid." David answered: "My compromise is utterly rejected by Sam. You still reject Sam's second proposal, I suppose?"

"If it is the same, then I do so, emphatically."

"And because Peter's idea might cost you and Sam more (or because it is kind to Horace Culpepper, I am not sure which), Sam rejects it just as emphatically; though it seems reasonable to me and satisfies your requirements of honour and decency. Are you ready to tell us your idea, Jenny?"

She was. Jenny's idea was that Sam should retire Horace honourably and get the bank to make Peter a loan so that he could become part-owner as well as manager of Culpepper's. Meanwhile, Samantha and Jenny would start Lumenite Limited; the two companies to remain separate.

She had figures and projections to support her case, the main advantage of which was that it kept the engineering laboratory open and staffed, so that Peter could also work on the only serious technical problem she still had to solve for Lumenite, the problem of the limited range of communications signals in the material.

"Surely you have an answer for that, already," said Samantha to Jenny.

"Yes, but it is expensive and unwieldy. I would like to improve it, and Culpepper's would help."

"So would any other electrical engineering firm;" Samantha insisted. "Or you may solve it yourself any day: you've only been thinking deeply about the problem for a day or so."

This got the argument going again but soon reached the same impasse. Samantha simply would not accept anything that was less profitable than her own proposal or left her with less power. If Culpepper's were to be saved, and Peter its manager, then he would have to work for Samantha and Jenny. Peter had meanwhile become very thoughtful and quiet; whereas Jenny was now an animated advocate of her own idea. David also settled back to observe, so the argument became a contest between the two women.

After about fifteen more minutes of fruitless discussion, a lull gave Peter an opportunity to offer everyone brandies. They all accepted and as he got up to pour them, David said he would come and help. At the drinks cabinet, David said quietly to Peter:

"I have noticed that Jenny cannot sit down for long comfortably. Tell me to shut up and mind my own business but I wonder if you were not being entirely figurative yesterday when you said Jenny would be 'tied up all evening'?"

"Shut up and mind your own business," Peter said with a conspiratorial smile. When David smiled in response, it was like a Masonic handshake between the men. Satisfied with each other, they returned to the table with the drinks, where Samantha and Jenny were no nearer agreement.

Another half-hour of argument produced no resolution. The women had locked horns and neither would give ground. Samantha objected that Peter was bringing no capital into the company and there was no collateral for Culpepper's loan. Jenny, meanwhile, utterly refused to consider owning the company Peter worked for.

To the men, both women seemed to hold unreasonable positions and so, looking for a way out of the impasse, David thought it might help if he had a private word with Samantha. This suited Jenny, who wanted to speak privately to Peter, so the couples retired to opposite ends of the house.

In the lounge, David asked Samantha if she would accept Jenny's compromise for his sake.

"Why for your sake, David?"

"Because I like Peter and Jenny. We have some regular friends: I have University colleagues, drinking friends, friends in the rugby club; and you have business associates and fellow patrons of the Opera; but we have no friends like Peter and Jenny: intellectual and passionate, with whom we have other interests in common."

"You know you can command me to agree, David."

"I want this to come from you, Sam."

"Then, no."

David looked thoughtfully at his wife and nodded his acceptance of her decision.

In the kitchen, Jenny said to Peter:

"I think I understand the key to Sam's motivation but I need to ask her some questions to be sure; and, for her to understand why I have proposed my compromise, I will need to tell them about our relationship. May I have your permission to do so?"

"Yes, Jenny, you may."

"Will you back me up in the compromise I propose, even though it is different from your own?"

"Yes, I will, Jenny."

"Thank you, Peter."

Back at the table, Jenny began by saying she needed to ask some questions of Samantha.

"Sam: Peter told me that three Culpepper employees tried to negotiate the loan extension with you. First was Helen, who came back in tears; then Malcolm, the accountant, who was apparently humiliated; and then you rebuffed Horace."

"Helen was that pretty but vacant blond girl?" Samantha asked. "She was completely unprepared and surprised to find I was a woman. It was a joke sending her. She couldn't even find a spreadsheet she created herself. Malcolm had the data in the right order but he was a long streak of piss. As for Horace, old-world charm may work at the gentleman's club, but I am no gentleman."




Spotlights Ch. 04



"No," agreed David: "Not in any sense." Sam gave him a look.

"I thought something like that must have happened," Jenny said: "So here is my question. Sam: Would you have granted the loan extension if Peter had been the one to ask?"

"No ...."

"No ... but you hesitate. Absolute truth, Sam, for the sake of our friendship...."

"No ... not at first, but I would probably have advised granting it eventually."

"Thank you for your honesty, Sam, you confirm my theory. If I understand your motivation properly, then we can get the agreement we want."

Samantha smiled but looked defiant. Both the men encouraged Jenny to explain but she excused herself for a few minutes while she fetched the long footstool from the lounge with a large cushion and, pushing her dining chair away to one side, replaced it with the footstool, on which she knelt. Feeling more comfortable, she continued:

"It's all about sex," she said. "Sure, there is honour, decency, conflict and profit in business but, for Sam, it is surely about fun and I think that the root of fun for her is sexual."

"Do you mean, Jenny, that Sam substitutes ruining business rivals for libidinous affairs with them?" asked David. "That sounds rather Freudian."

"My theory is not so reductive, David; but to explain it, I need to tell you something about my relationship with Peter."

"Peter is my husband and also my Master. I am his wife and also his slave. He is my dominant: I, his submissive. In fact, I am too submissive: Peter often needs to rein me in to keep me balanced."

"You'll have noticed that I am not sitting comfortably. This is because Peter had to punish me yesterday. The need I have for submission and correction is why I will not agree to Sam's compromise offer in which Peter works for us. This is because I need to look up to my Master. To control me, I need him to be stronger and better than me. I need to admire and to trust him because when I surrender, it must be to someone who deserves it. When I fall, I need safe arms to catch me. If I owned the company Peter worked for, if I was his boss, then he could not be my Master."

"Why not?" David was fascinated.

"Suppose I needed to be punished but he was lenient: the suspicion would lurk in my mind that he held back because I pay his wages. Or I would be in continuous fear that he would over-compensate and treat me worse than I deserve. In neither case could I give him unconditional control and surrender completely to him."

"This is how it is between Peter and me, Sam; and I suspect something similar is true for you and David. You are David's submissive, aren't you, Sam?"

"Clever Jenny," Samantha said.

"In fact, you are more submissive than me, I think: I am Peter's sex-slave and in one or two small things also his domestic slave, but I do not think you have any limits at all."

"Go on," Samantha said.

"I also think your submission to David relates to your aggression in business. I think that what you do in business is what I sometimes do to Peter when I want him to punish me: I push him; I test him; I make him control me. In your case, you push your business rivals and I think that's what makes business fun for you. Money is just a way of keeping count: the real contest is finding a man who will stand up to you."

"I do like to see what a man is made of," admitted Samantha.

"So the reason you would eventually have granted the loan to Peter but not to the others is that you pushed them and they collapsed. It was like pushing against an open door. My Peter would have pushed back, though, and when you'd had your fun, you would have enjoyed giving in to him."

"I might have," said Samantha, licking her lips.

"This explains why your relationship with Culpepper's got off on the wrong foot when you saw Helen. I assume Horace sent Helen to see you with minimal preparation but a short skirt because he thought you were a man. I bet he also told her to leave her glasses in the office. No wonder she seemed incompetent. Though you are not an idiot feminist, you were offended by such an obvious technique. There was no contest in it."

"Then Malcolm was sent, who is a very nice young man but no one would describe him as 'masterful'. You chewed him up and spat him out. Lastly, you met the genial Horace. He patronized you, put his hand on your knee and explained what a gentleman's agreements is; and I suspect you played along at first, pretending to be charmed, then you cut his anchors, giving him a lecture on the old boy's network or something."

"He patted my hand, not my knee, and my lecture on the glass ceiling was so good I almost believed it myself; but you are essentially correct."

"What you wanted was to meet someone equal or better than you, someone to master you. Someone like my Peter. So the answer is simple: you've had your fun putting the wind up Culpepper's, but now Peter is here to ask for himself."

"A brilliant analysis, Jenny, and a good solution," David said. "Sam: are you willing to agree to Jenny's plan if it is Peter who asks you?"

"Certainly not," Samantha replied, smiling.

David was instantly deflated: "Oh, well. It was a nice try, Jenny," he said; "and, like my own effort, doomed to failure."

"Jenny's not finished yet, David," Samantha said.

"I am sorry, Jenny. I did not understand. I thought your solution was to have Peter do the asking."

"Not quite, David. The problem is not a merely commercial agreement: it is a personal one. My plan requires Sam to loan money to Peter to take over Culpepper's, and for that she needs to understand his character. It is not enough that Peter does the asking: How Peter asks is the key."

"You'll have to explain that to me," said Peter, "as well as to David."

Kneeling up with her shoulders back, looking straight at Samantha, who met her gaze with confident ease, Jenny said:

"This is how to get Sam to accept my compromise plan, Peter: you should tie up the bitch and whip her until she agrees."

David clapped his hands, shouting 'Capital!' Samantha pretended to be outraged, exclaiming "Jenny, really!" But Peter leant back in his chair and smiled, a box in his mind now ticked.

**********

'Spotlights' continues in chapter 5.



Spotlights Ch. 05



Chapter Five: A deal is struck, literally

Author's Note:

This story is complete fantasy. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, companies or inventions is purely accidental.

Chapter 5 follows on immediately from chapter 4, in which the business deals were proposed and discussed.

**********

"This is an excellent solution," David said "I endorse it heartily. ... Sam, you are the property of Peter this evening, or for however long it takes him to wring an agreement out of you. You can start by standing at the end of the table and stripping."

"One moment, Sam - with your permission, David. Jenny: you first."

"What do you mean, Peter?" Jenny asked.

"You are to strip first, Jenny. If David is lending me something so precious as his Sam, honour requires me to lend him something of equal value in return; and you are my most precious possession."

"But you have never given me to anyone before, Peter."

"Do you refuse?"

"I ... I don't know. I need to think about it."

"Well, you can think about it while you take your clothes off," he said bluntly, adding: "Besides, don't bedroom rules apply at the weekend?"

Jenny immediately knelt in her submissive posture. David was highly amused at the scene. Samantha looked on with interest. Jenny lifted her head, a sign asking permission to speak.

"You may speak, Jenny."

"Master, what happens if I refuse?"

"Nothing bad, Jenny: we just go back to being two ordinary couples having a pleasant evening together; and Sam enacts her business plan exactly as she wants, Culpepper Electronics folds and I lose my job."

"Master, it's not fair to make me choose between your job and going with David."

"You don't need to choose if you obey me: I am making the choice for you, as a good Master ought."

"But you know I have never ..."

She was going to say "never had sex with anyone but you" but he cut her off, saying:

"After that speech you gave about surrender, Jenny, I should think it would be easy for you to know whether to obey or not. That is, unless you have a specific reason for not wanting to obey."

"Master, I don't know if you ... I mean, that is, I am not sure that you ..."

"Yes, Jenny?"

Jenny hung her head silently for a moment.

"Master, forgive me. You know what's best for your slave; but please remember my sore bottom."

"I have remembered it, Jenny. Now take off your clothes."

Jenny did so quickly, as if stripping for bed, folding her clothes neatly into a pile and kneeling back down, her mop of hair hiding crimson cheeks, her embarrassment visible in the pretty pink hue it leant to her shoulders and chest.

"Your turn, now, Sam." ordered David.

Samantha languidly pushed back her chair, stood up slowly and, moving her hips to an internal rhythm, sashayed her way to the end of the table. Still swaying, Samantha nonchalantly slipped out of her shoes, danced over to David, turned and crouched down, inviting him to unzip her dress.

"Look up, Jenny," said Peter. "You should be seeing this."

After David had unzipped Samantha's dress, she bent over, offering her bottom to him for a pat, which he obligingly delivered; then she wriggled her dress down her body and kicked it to David, who folded it on her chair.

Samantha sat on the floor to remove her stockings, sensuously running her hands down her legs and flipping the stockings at David. She next sashayed over to Peter, invited him to unclasp her well-filled black bra and, when done, offered her bottom to him for a smack. Samantha threw the bra to Peter. Then she wriggled out of her black lace panties, which Peter also received.

The naked Samantha stood posed like a Greek goddess, her right hand pretending to conceal her pubic hair and her left arm across her breasts, failing entirely to obscure her nipples. The whole display drew applause from the men and admiration from Jenny.

"Jenny is right about her bottom, David, so I hope you will agree to some ground-rules."

"Of course, Peter. I understand: Jenny's bottom is out of bounds. Any other rules?"

"No sexual intercourse and no exchange of body fluids by any of us. We men remain clothed at all times."

Though theoretically silent, Jenny sighed her relief.

"Agreed" said David.

"I propose a contest," said Peter. "Jenny used to be good at controlling her orgasms, so I suggest that I should have as much time to make Sam agree to Jenny's plan as it takes you to make Jenny cum. What do you say?"

"An excellent idea, Peter. I see it is going to be a lot of fun knowing you."

"Half-an-hour would normally be easy for Jenny but she is out of practise and, besides, she has been as horny as an otter all day; so I reckon I might have fifteen or twenty minutes to work on Samantha. Do you have any restrictions for me."

"No, just some advice: she's tougher than you might think; and I expect you already think she is pretty tough."

"Very good," said Peter. "Jenny, please go and fetch some straps for both you and Sam, ropes, two gags, two buzzers, the 'magic wand', lubricant and the long riding crop."

Jenny rushed off. Samantha remained standing, a masterpiece of erotic art. Peter told David the safe words Jenny used and described the toy-buzzer for when she is gagged.

"Thank you, Peter. Samantha's safe words are 'green' and 'red', where red is 'stop' and green is 'go'. Sam may also grunt S-O-S in Morse Code when she is gagged."

Jenny came back and Peter gave the 'magic wand', lubricant, her pink ball-gag, a set of straps, a buzzer and a length of rope to David.

"I suggest you and Jenny use the sofa and Sam and I stay here. We are each in ear-shot of each other, in case our wives need us."

"Will we be able to see you from there?" David wondered.

"Pull the chairs out of the way if you want a good view."

"Very well. Come with me, please Jenny."

She stayed put. Peter had not formally handed her over.

"Jenny, you are to obey David: he is your Master until I say otherwise. He knows your safe-words."

Jenny bowed her head but did not speak. David courteously took Jenny's hand and, complimenting her on her beauty, led her to the lounge, sat her down and attached the ankle and wrist straps. Peter, meanwhile, had visited the kitchen to fetch a bag of clothes pegs and a ball of string, which he left by Samantha's feet. He then collected a towel and threw it to David, saying "You may need this: Jenny is apt to gush."

David was amused to see embarrassment return to Jenny's face with Peter's words. He had Jenny cross her arms behind her back and then lie on her back with her knees up. Then he attached the left wrist strap to her right ankle strap and vice-versa. He tied rope around each leg and passed it under her body, pulling it tight to spread her knees apart. David left the gag until last, so Jenny could say if the bondage was too tight or uncomfortable, but it was not a hard bondage for her, so she remained silent. He gave her the toy buzzer. Finally, David gagged Jenny, lubricated the head of the vibrator and turned to see if Peter was ready.

Peter had attached the wrist and ankle straps to Samantha and then grabbed her roughly by the hair to pull her head back and forced into her mouth the penis gag that Jenny (in a curious absence of solicitude for her friend) had chosen. It was a tight fit but not uncomfortable. Then he had pulled her arms behind her back and crossed them, bent at the elbows, tying them off sharply. Samantha grunted at the strain. Peter had also tied Samantha's hair into a pony-tail with a rope that he attached to her crossed arms. This was an evil restraint, forcing Samantha to choose between strain on her neck and strain on her shoulders. She breathed heavily.

The footstool that Jenny had knelt on was placed in front of Samantha and Peter pushed her rudely down onto it, so she landed on her stomach with a thump. Peter kicked Samantha's legs apart and attached her ankles to the back legs of the stool. This pushed her bottom up. Peter then tied a rope loosely around her neck and wound it around the front legs of the stool. It did not constrict her breathing but it prevented her from moving up to relieve the strain on her neck or shoulders. Lastly, Peter put a toy buzzer in Samantha's hand, explaining its use. She held it tightly.

David had so enjoyed watching the last few minutes of this preparation that he moved out of the way to let Jenny see as well. When Peter was ready, he saw that David was ahead of him and asked:

"Shall we begin?"

"You go ahead, Peter. I am enjoying the view."

"If you are sure."

Peter cropped Samantha hard on a buttock. She yelped, but not as much as Jenny had done, which gave Peter a measure of how tough Samantha was. He started to swipe the same spot at a rate that allowed the pain to subside a little each time but did not numb the nerves. His swatting was accurate and brought yelps, gasps and the occasional muffled scream from Samantha. She began sweating and her body rocked and shuddered under the assault. Peter got into his rhythm, attacking new spots to keep the pain fresh.

Jenny was fascinated. She thought Samantha must be charged with some force that absorbed Peter's blows because Jenny was sure she would have been shrieking her head off by now. David also thought it was an excellent show. Samantha's beautiful body under hard restraint and painful attack would have given an octogenarian monk an erection. Peter took a breather after reddening Samantha's bottom for five solid minutes and noticed that David had not begun.

"Are you sure you want to give me such a head start, David?" Peter asked.

"I do not think Jenny agrees it is a head start, Peter," said David, indicating Jenny's glistening labia. David chuckled at Jenny's blush and decided it was time to begin.

Taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, David asked Jenny if she was ready to begin. She could not meet his eyes but only nodded and braced herself to receive the magic wand. It did not happen. David rubbed his hands to warm them up and, with a light touch, gently stroked Jenny's thighs, then her belly, moving up to her ribs and around her breasts, then back down again, repeating the movement with finger-tips and the flat parts of his finger-nails. The sensation was delicious to Jenny, who tried not to relax and enjoy it.

After three more minutes of blistering assault on her bottom, Peter stopped, let Samantha calm down, and said to her: "That was to punish you for trying to ruin my company. Now I will make you agree to Jenny's compromise. Or will you agree before I start?" Samantha shook her head (which was about the only movement she could easily make). "Very well," said Peter, and he untied her to change her position.

David was manipulating the tension building in Jenny, teasing her with light touches rather than blasting her nerves with the vibrator, as she expected. He turned on the vibrator. Jenny heard the buzzing but David hovered it over her pussy and made no contact. A drip of her wetness fell onto the towel as she strained against the bindings, trying to close her legs.

Peter rubbed Samantha's arms to massage blood back into her muscles, then he made her lie back on the stool, with the cushion in the small of her back. He pulled her legs apart and attached her ankles to the legs of the stool under her shoulders. Her wrists were attached to the other legs of the stool, to which her hair rope was also tied, forcing her into a tense arch. Her magnificent breasts were forced up into a scene of Alpine eroticism.

Putting one arm around Jenny's shoulder, David could reach her left breast and twiddled her nipple like he was tuning an old-fashioned radio. Jenny tensed at this touch and closed her eyes, ready for the assault on her clitoris. Still it didn't come.

Peter was cropping Samantha in her new position and each time he raised a mark, he attached a clothes peg to the spot. Samantha gasped and grunted but did not cry out. When he had used about twenty pegs, Peter started knocking them off with the crop. Samantha often convulsed with the pain and was now openly weeping. She began crying out when Peter began the process a second time.

Hearing Samantha's cries, David stopped tantalizing Jenny and turned around to watch. It was lucky he stopped, Jenny thought, because she was building up nicely to her release, even without clitoral stimulation. Jenny relaxed a little as David enjoyed the sight of his gorgeous wife in pain. Without warning, David pushed the vibrator firmly against Jenny's clitoris. She gasped, bucked and almost came. Fighting for control as the sensation in her clitoris engulfed her, Jenny shut her eyes tightly and tried to breathe deeply. The moment was over and Jenny was back in control, but it had been close. She really had to concentrate better, she thought.

Having knocked the pegs off Samantha's luscious body a second time, Peter made zips from pegs tied by string along her waist on both sides. He teased Samantha by pulling at the strings without detaching the zips. She groaned. Peter asked her if she was ready to submit yet. Again Samantha shook her head and then shrieked as Peter ripped one of the zips away. He immediately reattached it and, after teasing, ripped away the other. Her body shuddered from the pain but still she would not give in.

David heard the shriek but did not turn around. He was having too much fun watching Jenny's face, her eyes screwed up tight, as she fought to resist the stimulation to her clitoris. She bit down on the ball-gag, dug her nails into her palm and tried to stop humping the 'magic wand'.

Samantha was whimpering, her breath coming in gasps, her nerves jarring each time the zips were ripped off. Now Peter abandoned the zips and used the pegs to play with her nipples and clitoris, clamping and flicking them in turn. This was causing havoc to Samantha's self-control, flushing her pussy with her juices, though Peter did not think she had yet had an orgasm. He wanted to change that, to humiliate her by forcing her to cum for him.

From the first, Jenny had been conflicted about her situation. She had never slept with anyone other than Peter, still less been given to a relative stranger for a bondage session. At first, she had feared that she would be expected to have sex with David, which she would have completely refused to do. When she heard the rules Peter and David agreed, she was so grateful that she complied without resistance; yet, thinking about it, she was in hardly a better position than if she had been given away for sex. On the other hand, and somewhat absurdly, she was doing her best to win for Peter and not let him down. How can a mind become so twisted up? she wondered.

Peter removed the pegs from Samantha's nipples and clitoris and allowed her a minute to calm down. He gently fondled a breast when he asked her again whether she was ready to submit. She shook her head and immediately groaned as he squeezed roughly. "So be it," he said, and stepped back to take aim.

Having got her mind together, so she thought, Jenny found herself resisting David's ministrations, even the breast fondling she so dearly loved. Relaxing back into David's arm, enjoying the novelty of a hairy arm tickling her skin (Peter being a smooth man), she stopped her pelvic movements, breathed more deeply and inadvertently slipped into her Ocean Place.

Peter delivered a full strength whack to Samantha's engorged clitoris. She shrieked in pain as her body was convulsed by a forced orgasm. Another two swipes released jolting aftershocks, leaving her panting and weeping.

David recognized the noise of his wife in her fit of ecstasy and let Jenny alone for a second to watch Peter again. This break was also lucky for Jenny, whose resistance had waned to nothing in her Ocean Place: she opened her eyes and climbed back into the world, realising how close she had come. Jenny now concentrated harder to control herself. She had noticed that David went easier on her when she gave a stronger reaction, so she resolved to put on a show for him: she closed her eyes again, moaned, gasped and thrust her hips. Sure enough, David let the pressure off her clitoris, letting the vibrator wander all over her pussy down to her anus. Jenny could handle that now, she thought.

After being forced to relentless orgasms, Samantha was exhausted. She felt strained and bruised all over. Even so, when Peter asked her again to submit, she had energy and will-power to resist. Hearing Jenny's accelerated moans and thinking he must have one last go to break Samantha, Peter struck the crop at her left nipple. She shrieked. He struck again and again. Samantha had another orgasm, which she felt from her sorely abused nipples to her outstretched toes. Still Peter kept on: another strike, another shriek and a jolt. Samantha panted heavily, wept copiously but would not give up. Peter attacked her right nipple with the crop. Three more times on the tit; then twice on her clitoris; then back to the left nipple; and so he alternated, forcing another wrenching orgasm from Samantha.

Jenny, meanwhile, nicely faked being closer to the edge than she was, yet she could not help David building her up to an explosive release. "Please let Peter hurry up," she said to herself, as she bit into the gag,

A buzzer went off.

Peter was at mid-swing but managed to stop himself. The weeping Samantha had finally given in. He quickly released her from the gag and addressed her:

"Well, Slave. What do you say?"

"No more, please, no more. I want David."

"David is not your Master at the moment, I am. You are to address yourself to me in a proper manner."

"Please, Sir, please can I have David?"

"No you may not. You have to prove your submission first, Slave. Or shall I put the gag back in and start cropping again?"

"No, Sir, please, Sir, no. I will obey you, Sir. I am your slave, Sir."

"Very well, Slave, let us see if you have learned to submit. ... Slave, do you agree to implement Jenny's business plan in regard to Lumenite and Culpepper Electronics?"

"Yes, Sir, I agree. I will implement Jenny's plan, Sir."

"Good, Slave, your ordeal is over. ... David will you help me release Sam, please? She needs you."

David was already there, letting Sam feel a familiar hand on her shoulder. They undid the straps and stood her up. David began to massage her strained limbs as Peter saw to Jenny. Much to Jenny's relief, David had removed the vibrator from her clitoris as soon as Samantha started talking, but she was still in bonds. Peter removed her gag and unstrapped her.

"Well done, Jenny. You had me worried at one point."

She did not explain that she had been faking but accepted his praise and a hug.

Jenny wanted to see Samantha. David had calmed her down, wiped her tears and was hugging her pain away. He released Samantha into Jenny's arms when she approached and went to collect Samantha's clothes, signalling to Peter that four more brandies would probably be good for them. Peter refilled their glasses.

Jenny and Samantha were sitting naked on the footstool in each other's arms when Peter came over with their drinks. Samantha accepted her brandy from Peter but kept her eyes down, not looking at him. She was still tearful. They all needed the alcohol.

David and Jenny helped Samantha back into her dress and shoes, not bothering with her underwear. David held onto her while he addressed Peter and Jenny:

"Thank you both for a wonderful evening. Jenny, the dinner was superb. Peter, we loved the entertainment. I hope you won't mind if I take my exhausted and chastened wife home?"

"Of course, not, we understand completely. It's been a real pleasure meeting you both" Peter said, in an excess of formality, shaking David's hand.

"Stupid man!" Jenny exclaimed and ran to hug and kiss them, saying "It's been great. We love you ... Take good care of her, David."




Spotlights Ch. 06



Chapter Six: Pillow talk

Author's Note:

This story is complete fantasy. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, companies or inventions is purely accidental.

The story will make more sense if chapters 1 to 5 are read first.

**********

On Saturday night, Peter first made love to Jenny standing up against the bedroom wall because she would not leave him alone long enough to undress. He had thrown her down onto the bed twice but each time she immediately jumped back on him, wrapping her arms and legs around him, gluing her mouth to his; so Peter simply unzipped his fly, released his stiff penis and thrust into her where they stood. They both came quickly.

The second time was less frenetic. Peter took Jenny from behind as she lay forward on the bed, leaning on her elbows and arching her back, relishing the depth of his penetration and the firm grip of his hands on her waist.

The third time, she was on top and riding him. At one point, Peter stretched out his hands to grasp her breasts and began to groan, saying "Oh God! Oh God! I am going to cum. You are so beautiful, Sam...." Jenny screamed "Oh!" and pummelled his chest until Peter, laughing, grabbed hold of her wrists to prevent her.

"That's not funny," she said.

"I thought it was."

He noticed that she had not slowed her movements, however, and pretty soon he did cum for real, pulling Jenny down to him and kissing her deeply as she shuddered with her own climax.

Meanwhile, Samantha herself had been tenderly nursed by David, who helped her luxuriate in a warm bath for half an hour, then lay her on their bed and applied soothing lotion to all her marks and bruises. Samantha was strong and recovered quickly but had no further desire for sex herself that night. She could see, however, that David was as taut as a bow-string and overcame his reluctance saying,

"You've punished me worse than this before, Sir, and used me straight afterwards. You don't have to be so considerate."

"True enough: open up then, Slut."

Samantha knelt on a cushion in front of David and happily took his hard penis into her mouth, licking and sucking its head and stroking its shaft. After a few minutes, she removed her hand and David pushed himself as far as he could into her throat. He withdrew for her to breathe and pushed in again. They soon found their rhythm and in a few minutes, David was close to cumming. He pulled out and rested a second.

Samantha started again with a good lick all around followed by flicks of her tongue on his cockhead and strokes of her hand. Then she began bobbing her head, taking a mouthful of his rod at a time and sucking insistently. Soon David was running his hands through her hair and urging her on, saying

"That's perfect, Slut. Keep going. I'm close, Slut, I'm close. Oh, God!"

and with groans of ecstasy, David ejaculated in Samantha's throat.

Lying in bed together later, David said to Samantha:

"What are we going to do about Peter and Jenny, Slut?"

"Do we have to do anything, Sir?"

"I think so. They've never been on the scene and don't seem much interested in it. Or maybe Jenny might be; but her submission just seems to be a private thing between them. I don't want them to think that friendship with us will mean going to bondage clubs, swingers' parties and making private movies of ourselves and friends."

"But we do all those things, Sir."

"Not around here we don't and I don't want Peter and Jenny to be put off being friends with us because of it. They might feel a strain knowing us if they think they must keep up with our lifestyle."

"I understand, Sir. What shall we do?"

"Well, Jenny said she usually wants to go further than Peter, so could you talk to her tomorrow, and sort of probe her limits, please? You two will be spending a lot of time together in the future and you will talk about everything, I am sure. Just find out discretely what she thinks we get up to and let her know it is not obligatory in order to be our friend. Meanwhile, I'll try to reassure Peter that dinner with us will not always end in a bondage orgy."

"Their friendship is important to you, Sir."

"I believe it will be very important, Slut. I like them both very much."

"So do I."

As David seemed to have nothing more to say, Samantha crawled around him until she was on all fours by his legs. "Have you recovered, Sir: are you ready to go again?" she asked.

"I am amazed at your stamina, Slut. Yes, I am ready."

She took him in her mouth again and, more slowly this time, gave him that satisfaction which is next best to the real thing.

It was late, but Jenny and Peter were still awake. As Jenny lay contented beside him, Peter absently ran a thumbnail up and down her spine.

"Can we talk, Master?"

"Of course, Jenny."

"You first, Master."

"Funny, Jenny; though actually I do have two things to say to you, but they can wait. Tell me what's on your mind."

"You tricked me, Master. I thought you were lending me to David for sex."

"Yes, I enjoyed doing that. So what would you have done if I had not made the ground-rules?"

"I don't know. I would certainly have refused to have sex with David but I am not sure where I would have drawn the line. That's why I would like to make a request of you, please Master. Can we add something to our relationship rules?"

"The rules belong to both of us, Jenny. You need not request. You can make rules yourself. I am listening."

"Peter, I don't want you to lend me to anyone ever again."

"You didn't like how David treated you?"

"I liked it very much, he would make a wonderful lover; but I don't want to enjoy it ever again."

"Why not?" he asked, genuinely interested.

"Because I went to my Ocean Place with him and I want to go there only with you. I think of it as a sacred for us and not for others."

"So that's what it was."

"What 'what' was?"

"When you started making a noise like a chipmunk on speed."

This earned him a dig in the ribs.

"No. That was afterwards. And I was faking it. I had slipped into the Ocean Place without realising it and, luckily, David was distracted by something and let the pressure off. When he started again, I was in control and put on a performance to mislead him."

"It convinced me," Peter admitted, "but do you think David was taken in?" he asked seriously.

"I thought so at the time. Why do you ask?"

"Because they are both very clued up people with lots of experience. I think David has lent Sam out many times like this to see how much she can take. It would explain why she held out for just the amount of time to make me think I won."

"She let you win!" Jenny exclaimed in wonderment, sitting up. "Sam Harding let you win? You beat her arse black and blue, Peter. She was shrieking in pain, streaming with tears! You don't believe she faked her tears, do you?"

"No, I believe she genuinely felt the pain, and also genuinely enjoyed it. She's a very tough woman and I really hurt her; but my guess is that she regularly takes even more from David."

"Gosh! Really? Does that mean the Culpepper's deal is off?"

"No, Jenny. I assume she was for your compromise ever since you suggested it but, as you said, she wanted to push me. Notice that she did not forgive me for calling her a 'bitch' until I supported her deal against you and David."

"I remember. I did wonder a little about it at the time."

"She wanted to see what kind of man I was. I apparently showed it by saying I was willing to work for you both."

"Explain, please, Peter."

"It may be that Sam early on realised the nature of our relationship. David had already guessed before you admitted it ..."

"He did?" Jenny interjected.

"Yes, he did ... so Sam might also have worked it out. Then she may have thought I was like those men we've read about who dominate women to cover up their own weakness. When she saw that I did not care about my ego in that way but could take orders from women in business, she began to like me. That's my guess."

Jenny remained silent, thinking. Then:

"So you think David let me win as well?"

"Possibly, though I think you are far stronger than you imagine you are. It's one reason I love you. I expect it's also why David fancies you."

"He has good taste, ..." Jenny conceded, happily "but if it's true he fancies me, then it's another reason to make the rule. What do you say, Peter?"

"I agree. You are strictly mine from now on. I will not lend you to another man, not even one I like as much as David."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Thank you, Peter; ... but I wonder why have you conceded so easily? What about Sam?"

"Jealous, Jenny?"

"I wouldn't be a woman if I wasn't jealous, Peter. I know it's not a slave's place to make demands of her master but the idea of you with someone else makes me ill to my stomach. Can there be a rule restricting you as well?"

"Do slaves legitimately expect fidelity, Jenny?"

"I think so, Master. We don't have to go by what other people do. I have been your slave and yours alone; I don't ever want to be slave to anyone else; and I want you to be Master to me and to no one else."

"So what would you do if I decided I wanted another slave?"

"I don't know. I would not want to accept it but maybe I would have to ... but I think it would destroy me...."

"Don't worry, Jenny," Peter said, sitting up and hugging her to him, "it's not going to happen. I don't want another slave, ever. You are irreplaceable; ... and more than enough trouble for any one man."

She relaxed. They lay down and she snuggled contentedly against him.

"Yesterday was a one-off," he continued. "In fact, what I wanted to say to you was that I would never lend you to David again."

"So why did you, Master?"

"I wanted to distract him."

"To distract David? Why did you need to distract him?"

"Because I didn't know that Sam was going to let me win and I thought David might intervene if I was too rough with her."

"You enjoyed being rough with her, though, Master."

"Oh, yes, very much; and David enjoyed watching."

You also enjoyed messing with my mind, Jenny thought to herself and wondered, a little more anxiously than she had before, if she had not created a monster. She felt good when Peter held her now, however, and she knew she had a greater reason to be content: Peter was her Master alone and she was Slave only to him. What had he called her last night? "My most precious possession." It lifted Jenny's heart to remember that.

They were suddenly both very tired, the exertions of the day catching up with them, and Jenny was close to drifting off when she remembered something.

"Peter, what was the other thing you had to say to me?"

"What other thing?" Peter asked, stifling a yawn.

"You said you have two things to say to me: one was about not lending me to David again. What was the other?"

"Don't worry about it now, Jenny, it will keep to the morning. Let's go to sleep."

"Okay. Goodnight, Peter."

"Goodnight, Jenny. I love you."

"I love you, Peter."

Jenny was warm, sexually sated and held in the arms of the man she loved; but she was still awake. So was Peter, she could tell by his breathing.

"Peter, I can't sleep without knowing. Please tell me?"

"It can wait, Slave."

"Master, please?"

"If you insist, Slave. ... You ignored a major principle of our relationship today and deserve a punishment. Now go to sleep, Slave, and don't disturb me again. Good night."

"Oh, God!" she thought. "What did I do? How can I sleep now? How can I ask him what I did? Oh, God! Is he messing with my head again?"

Jenny started thinking over what they had done that day, from the early morning blow-job onward; and the good girl was fast asleep before she had finished reminiscing about the anal sex.



Spotlights Ch. 07



Author's Note:

This story is complete fantasy. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, companies or inventions is purely accidental.

The story will make more sense if chapters 1 to 6 are read first.

**********

Jenny was still drowsy and a little cold when she woke on Sunday morning. She realised she was alone in bed, lying on her back with her arms outstretched. Shifting weight on the mattress indicated to her that Peter had returned. She moved her right arm to make room for him but found it was stuck. Thinking the arm had gone to sleep, Jenny tried to rub it with her left hand; but that arm wouldn't move either. Now she was fully awake and on the edge of panic.

"Peter! Help me! I can't move my arms."

Peter put a hand on her shoulder to calm her:

"It's OK, Jenny, you're safe. I've tied you up..."

"Oh, no!" said Jenny, "Why?"

"Don't you remember? You are due a punishment from yesterday."

He spread her unresisting legs and fixed her ankles into their straps, holding her spread-eagle.

"Oh, God, Master. I hoped you were just teasing me."

Peter was adding tension to the restraints, though she felt the stretch as more sensuous than painful.

"No, I am completely serious. ... Slave, tell me how I normally punish you."

"Master, you tell me how I have erred and what my punishment will be. I apologise and you forgive me. Then you inflict the punishment as a reminder."

"Do the reminders work, Slave."

"... Not often, Master; except that they remind me how much I like you punishing me."

"Exactly! Well, one thing you did yesterday was so contrary to the essence of our relationship that I must find a new way of punishing you: one I hope you will abide by in the future."

Jenny was genuinely worried now and completely stumped as to what she had done. She thought she had been exceptionally good all day, even obeying Peter in something they agreed he would no longer demand from her.

"Master, I am sorry. Please forgive me."

"Not yet, Slave," said Peter, blindfolding her. "Your opportunity to apologise will come later. For now, I will explain how your punishment will work."

"This is a new game I have devised. I will not tell you its rules: you must discover them. I will use the cat-o-nine-tails on you. You may ask questions. The game ends when you have told me the rules of the punishment game, what you did wrong and you have apologised for it."

"If you put that brilliant brain of yours to good use, Slave, you can minimize the punishment and, I hope, remember the lesson. ... Do you have anything to say before we begin?"

"No, Master."

"Then we will start now."

Jenny forced herself to think clearly, saying to herself:

=== I suppose I can leave working out the rules of the game for now because I have no information to go on. Best discover what I did that was so serious. But if it was so serious, why did Peter not correct me immediately: why wait until the next day? Maybe it was because David and Sam were there; but then why not afterwards? What did he call it? Something like "contrary to the spirit of our relationship." What kind of thing did I do that was contr... ===

Whack. Peter whipped the 'cat' over Jenny's taut stomach.

"Ouch!" Jenny cried, more from shock than pain. The tips of the 'cat' stung only a little. She waited anxiously for another strike but there was no repeat blow, so she went back to trying to work out what she had done wrong, thinking:

=== It would help to know what I did wrong if I knew when I had done it. The hypothesis is that it occurred when David and Sam were here, so what happened during that time? They arrived, we chatted, had drinks, dinner, argument over the project and then the punishment session for Sam. I resisted when Peter told me to strip but that was before he had ordered me. I complied when he made it an order. Besides, I had a good reason to fear for my sore bottom. Maybe ... ===

Jenny was whacked on her right thigh.

"Ouch!"

=== I've really got to get better at this. I'm getting nowhere and Peter is whacking me. Maybe I should try to discover what the rules are. ===

"Master, why are you whacking me?"

Peter did not answer but he said "One."

=== Oh, God. What is he counting for? ===

"Do I have a limited number of questions I can ask?"

"No," Peter replied and whacked a stinging blow on her left thigh.

"Ouch!"

"Two."

=== Two? I'll ignore the numbers and get back to thinking about what I did wrong. I am sure it was to do with the bondage session but I need to eliminate the other times. It might be because I woke him up yesterday morning... ===

"Master, am I being punished for waking you up yesterday morning?"

"No."

Whack, "Ouch!"

"Three."

=== That's good, anyway. OK. I need to find out when it happened. ===

"Master, will you tell me when I committed the error?"

"No."

Whack, "Ouch!"

"Four."

=== I understand. That means I have to work it out for myself. ===

"I think it was something I did when Samantha and David were here, Master."

Peter did not respond.

"Five."

=== The counting goes on without the whipping but it seems that Peter does not reply unless I ask a yes-no question. ===

"Master, was it something I did when Samantha and David were here?"

"Yes ... Six." There was no stroke from the 'cat'.

"Master, was it before or after dinner?"

"Yes ... Seven." There was no stroke from the 'cat'.

=== What a stupid question! Logically the answer is "Yes" and I've learned nothing: so much for my brilliant mind. Come on, Jenny! get thinking. It's curious, for instance, that there was no whacking for the last two questions. ===

"Master, was it before dinner?"

"No."

Peter gave two swipes to her stomach. Whack, "Ouch!" Whack, "Ouch!"

"Eight."

=== Two whacks! Why? To make up for one of those he let me off earlier, perhaps? God! Jenny, stop speculating and get some data. These strikes are beginning to hurt. ===

Jenny's thighs and belly were now a bright pink, going red in places. Her cries were getting louder as the whipping stung more.

"Master, was it after dinner?"

"Yes ... Nine." There were no strokes from the 'cat'.

=== So what happened after dinner? Peter lent me to David and we had our session. I resisted him giving me to David: it might have been that. What else? I nearly lost to David. Would Peter punish me for that? Would that be a significant breach of our rules? What happened after the session? I went to comfort Sam, then David and Sam left. Oh, God! I called him a "stupid man." Oh, no! How could I have done that? How could I have been so stupid. It was the excitement, the bondage, the stimula...===

Whack, "Ouch!" Whack, "Ouch!"

Peter hit Jenny's upper arms.

=== I think I have learned a rule, at last, though I wish I didn't have to be beaten to learn it. I get whacked if I am silent too long. ===

"Master, was it because I called you a 'stupid man'?"

"No."

Whack, "Ouch!" Whack, "Ouch!"

Jenny's upper arms were going as red as her thighs and stomach.

"Ten."

=== I was sure that was it but I am glad it wasn't. I should narrow down the time some more... ===

"Master, was it when you lent me to David?"

"Yes. ... Eleven." No strokes of the 'cat'.

=== I can guess another rule: he whacks me only when he answers 'No'. Now what could I have done when I was lent to David? I did not follow him immediately; but Peter had not officially given me to him. Best eliminate that possibility, anyway. ===

"Master, was it because I did not go immediately with David?"

"No."

Peter delivered three whacks to her stomach and each thigh, receiving three loud yelps from Jenny.

"Twelve."

=== Three whacks! This will hurt badly if I don't get better at it. ===

"Master, was it before I went with David?"

"Yes. ... Thirteen." No whacks.

"Master, was it before I had stripped?"

"Yes. ... Fourteen." No whacks.

=== That narrows it down but also confuses me. Which bit does Master think I mean by being lent to David? Was it when he first ordered me to strip, or when he said he was lending me to David, or when he ordered me to go with David? ===

"Master, was it when you ordered me to strip."

"Yes. ... Fifteen." No whacks.

=== At first, I refused to strip but then Peter invoked 'bedroom rules' and I knelt. Then I tried to know what Master intended. Was it then? ===

"Master, I refused to strip at first, was it something to do with that refusal?"

"Yes. ... Sixteen."

"Master, I argued with you instead of obeying, was it my disobedience?"

"No, Slave, it wasn't, but you are almost there, so I will give you a chance to reduce the punishment you just earned. Tell me how many strokes you are due and I will reduce them by two."

"Four, Master."

"Correct, Slave. How is it worked out?"

"Master, you are counting my statements, whether they are questions or not. For every five, you add another stroke. You last counted 'sixteen'."

"Slave, you are a genius. That's why I love you, not only for your beautiful tits. You are due two strokes, now. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Master."

Peter whacked Jenny on her upper arms. She was really feeling the punishment now and cried out at each strike.

"Seventeen."

"Master, I can't think what I did when I refused to strip and you had to invoke 'bedroom rules', except that I hesitated and did not obey immediately. Is that it?"

"No, Jenny. You did more than just hesitate. You tried to argue. What reason did you have for not complying?"

"I didn't give you a reason, Master, but I later mentioned about my sore bottom."

"Was that the real reason, though, Jenny?"

"No, Master," she said, finally understanding, her voice catching as she caught a sob: "Master, I didn't trust you. That's why I stalled and tried to argue. I am sorry, Master. I forgot."

"You have worked it out well, my love. We will discuss the principle of trust later, but for now I owe you one more punishment. Are you prepared?"

"Yes, Master."

Peter delivered four medium whacks to her reddened arms and thighs. These brought only grunts from Jenny.

"We will be done when you tell me the rules of this punishment game, Jenny."

"Master, you only answer yes-no questions. You count the number of my statements. You strike me a number of times depending on how high you have counted, in multiples of five, and you strike me if I remain silent for a time..."

"How long, Jenny?"

"... A minute, I think, Master. And you strike me every time you answer 'No' to a question."

"So can you bring the game to an end now, Slave?"

"Yes, Master. The game ends when I have told you my error and apologised for it. My error was not to trust you, Master. Please forgive me, Master, for not trusting you?"

"I forgive you, my clever lovely Slave: I knew you would work it out."

Jenny basked in his praise and felt good, despite her apprehension about having to explain why she had not trusted her Master and what it meant.

Peter undid her blindfold and kissed her. Then he loosened her straps and allowed her to go to the bathroom.

When Jenny was back, Peter held her in his arms and tried to kiss away all her worries. Her punishment had warmed her up and left her with a pink blush, red in places, as the marks from the 'cat' began to fade.

They sat up on the bed facing each other and Peter talked:

"Slave, you said yesterday that I tricked you when I lent you to David. That was true and I enjoyed doing it; but it required you to trust me, which you did not completely. That was against our principles, but I understand that you did not want me to give you to David for sex and you suspected that I might have done so. Now, instead of stalling and arguing with me, tell me what you ought to have done, Jenny."

"I should have trusted you, Master, and obeyed."

"Yes, but what if you did not want to sleep with David?"

Jenny thought for a few seconds and understood. She answered quietly, her head down:

"Master, I should have used a safe word."

"Exactly, Jenny! ... If you want me to control you, if you want to surrender completely to me, then you must trust and obey me. But more important, I need to trust you, Jenny. I need to be able to trust you to use your safe words."

Peter lifted her chin and looked seriously at her:

"I know you, Jenny. You will push yourself beyond your limits in your eagerness to please me. So far, there have been no bad consequences other than bruises; but our bondage sessions have always been completely private between us. Now we are friends of David and Samantha, who are much more experienced than us, I need to be able to trust you not to go too far."

"What do you mean, Master."

"I don't mean wife-swapping parties or bondage dungeons; I mean that Sam will tell you stories of what she and David have done and you will doubtless find yourself wanting to try those things yourself."

"I am not always so impressionable, Master."

"Need I remind you of the slave collar, the horrible penis gag and the gargoyle nipple-clamps? God knows what else you have bought and been ashamed to show me."

"I understand, Master. I will try to be guided by you."

"My point, Jenny, is that you are the more adventurous of us and while I am willing to test your limits more seriously, I need to know that I can rely on you stopping me when it gets too much. Can I trust you, Jenny?"

"Yes, Master."

"Yesterday, I hit Sam harder than I had ever hit anyone and I am sure she has enjoyed even harder punishments in harder restraints. I don't want anything like that inflicted on you, Jenny. Can I have your promise?"

"Master, I promise to use my safe words to protect myself. I promise, Master."

"Good Slave. I love you."

"I love you, Master."

As always, seeing his beautiful slave suffer in her restraints had sent a powerful urge to Peter's loins. He tied Jenny to the bed again spread-eagle.

He kissed her mouth, lightly stroking her with one hand from thigh to shoulder. Jenny thought she had no sex-drive left after the last two days' frantic couplings but Peter's gentle touch and his probing tongue triggered the age-old biological programming and soon she was warming up again, desiring a firmer touch.

Peter noticed Jenny's nipples hardening as he varied his stroke to cup a breast. He detached himself from her mouth and kissed down from her chin to her collar-bone, flicking his tongue on her neck. Jenny sighed her approval. From her collar-bone, Peter kissed to a shoulder, then down her ribs and across her flat stomach with its hints of muscle; all the time continuing his gentle stroking and fondling.

Jenny wanted to run her nails along his back but could only squirm against the bonds, the restraint building up her sexual ache.

Peter kissed Jenny's mouth again and carried his stroking to her pussy, pleased to find it damp, her labia swollen. With one had cupping Jenny's left breast, Peter pushed two gentle fingers into her vulva while he put his mouth on her right breast and licked her nipple. Jenny writhed in her bonds, urging Peter on to use her more strongly.

"Oh God, Master! More, please Master, harder!"

Peter obliged his Slave, sucking vigorously at her tit and thrusting his fingers into her vagina, making her buck. He kissed from her breast to her clitoris and flicked it with his tongue while fucking her ever more roughly with his fingers. Jenny was close to an orgasm now and was moaning his name when Peter moved his mouth back to her breast and made her gasp with his powerful suction.

His slave being good and ready, Peter stripped, lay on Jenny, kissed her deeply and pushed his hard penis into her, thrusting with long, slow strokes, gradually increasing his speed as Jenny responded with urgent needy cries.

Jenny tensed and arched her back as she reached a peak, her spasm rewarding Peter with the pleasure he never tired of taking from her body. He thrust faster and soon another orgasm had Jenny crying out her joy, bucking and writhing. Then Peter's own climax overtook him. He kissed Jenny deeply while his throbbing penis shot a load of semen into her and her vagina walls rippled with another climax.

Peter kept Jenny on her sexual high for some time after he pulled out of her using the same gentle strokes, kisses and fondling with which he had begun, enjoying her spasmodic aftershocks. He loved the far-away look on her face and her deep contented sighs as she floated in her Ocean Place. Eventually, he had to let her come down, though: there were things to do today before they could visit David and Samantha in the afternoon and one important idea he had to try out on her.

After they had showered and dressed, they did housework (so many bed sheets to clean and clothes pegs to pick up) until they stopped for a late lunch, during which Peter said:

"By the way, Jenny, I may have a solution to your technical problem with Lumenite."

Jenny was keenly interested.

"You can get power to the luminescent dots of the material all right but the communications signal that tells the dots what colour and how brightly to glow dissipates after about a foot, correct?" Jenny nodded. "So why cannot the power also carry the signal?"

Jenny fetched her notepad and pencil. She briefly sketched the circuit and said:

"Show me."

Peter took her pencil and drew two components into the circuit:

"Look, Jenny, here, where you rectify the current, simply add the signal to it, like a wiggle on top of the standing wave; and here, at every grid of dots, you read it off."

"I understand. It's like using the house mains as telephone wires, so if I plugged a telephone handset into the kitchen mains and you plugged one into the mains in the lounge, we could talk; that is, until someone turned on the vacuum cleaner, then all we'd hear would be crackles."

"True; but your luminescent dots are much less noisy than an electric motor and the signal would remain clean. I think this will work, Jenny."

"I think so, too, Darling. Which of us is the genius now?"

"You still are, Jenny. You got us the loan extension to save Culpepper Electronics; and now you can get Sam to invest in Culpepper's newest invention and we're home and dry. What do you think?"

"I think we make a great team, Master."

"So do I, Slave."

**********

Spotlights concludes in chapter 8.



Spotlights Ch. 08



Chapter 8: Post-match analysis

Author's note:

This story is complete fantasy. Any resemblance to people, living or dead, companies or inventions is purely accidental.

The story will make more sense if chapters 1 to 7 are read first.

**********

At five minutes past five on Sunday, Peter and Jenny were sitting comfortably in the living room of David and Samantha, holding drinks and enjoying the last daylight view of the garden through the picture window. Logs crackled merrily in an open fireplace. The room had an antique card-table, large bookshelves over-flowing with books, four Norwich school paintings and no television set.

They sipped their drinks silently. No one knew how to mention yesterday's session; but talking about the weather or the news seemed inappropriate. Even David at his most affable could not command more than a few minutes' conversation. It took the forthright Jenny to overcome the general reticence and get on to the topic they both feared and desired. She did so with a frontal assault:

"How are your bruises today, Sam?" Jenny asked.

"They are still quite tender, Jenny, but healing nicely, thank you. I'll show them to you later, if you want."

"Oh, I do want, very much."

As he had been her temporary Master, Peter would not apologise to Samantha for a deserved punishment but he was genuinely sorry that Samantha was still in pain. He said so.

"Thank you, Peter, but this was not the worst whipping I've had."

"What was the worst, Sam?" Jenny asked eagerly.

"It was when David punished me for getting a tattoo. Will you tell Jenny and Peter the story, David?"

"Yes, please," said Jenny, on the edge of her seat.

"Well," said David, "it happened about ten years ago. I have always forbidden Sam to get any tattoos, piercing or other mutilations."

"You dislike them? So does Peter."

"My reason is that God and Mendel's laws have combined to make Sam perfect, so any alteration would only diminish her."

"I agree," Jenny gushed: "Sam's absolutely gorgeous."

"Sam is one of the true beauties of our sadly plastic generation," intoned Peter, rather more earnestly than he intended; but David was delighted with the compliment, which Samantha acknowledged with a small bow of her elegant head. David continued:

"So, you can imagine how I felt when Sam came home one day from a shopping trip with marks on her back. I could see them in the gap between her tee-shirt and her jeans. I ordered her to lift her shirt. She had the words "Property of David Harding" written in an oval in the small of her back, decorated by a pair of handcuffs and a whip. It was beautifully done but I had expressly forbidden it, so I ordered her to our punishment horse."

"Your what?" Jenny asked.

"It's like a carpenter's saw-horse but with a padded leather top and metal eyes for straps. I bent Sam over the horse and strapped in her ankles and wrists, then I began walloping her backside. When her bottom had gone red, I stuffed a gag in her mouth to stop her shrieks alerting the whole street; then I whacked her bum with a cane until it was purple all over."

"Besides screaming her head off and almost breaking the straps with her struggles, Sam was also sweating and after about half an hour or so, I noticed rivulets of black sweat on her back. I ran a finger over her tattoo and the ink came off."

"It was done in marker pen by an artist-friend of Sam's. She wanted to tease me."

"Then you untied her and you two made passionate love for hours," predicted Jennifer Mordant, hopeless romantic.

"Not a bit of it, Jenny," Samantha corrected: "He whipped me even worse for giving him such a scare."

But Samantha also smiled at the memory. After whipping her for an hour, David had fucked her and left her tied up, returning to fuck her again and again throughout the night. (At least, she assumed it was David.) It was her worst ever punishment and one of her best ever nights of sex.

"Well," said Jenny, "I was amazed at the beating you took last night, Sam. I think you were wonderful. Even more so because Peter said you let him win."

Sam pondered a moment, then said:

"It is all the better, Jenny, that the future CEO of Culpepper Electronics should be someone so perceptive as Peter."

"So it's true, Sam!" Jenny exclaimed and turned to David to ask: "Did you also go easy on me, David?"

"Not at all, Jenny," David answered. "You beat me fair and square."

"Hmm" said Jenny, expressing her suspicions. "Anyway, we now have another reason to say that Sam made the right decision: Peter has solved the technical problem of Lumenite. His device to transmit a communications signal over mains current will be a Culpepper product worth investing in."

"I look forward to seeing it in action," said Samantha, with real interest.

"I am overjoyed to hear it," said David. "And how's your bottom, Jenny?"

"Very much improved, thanks, David," she answered, bouncing on her seat in proof.

This was the perfect cue for Samantha to invite Jenny upstairs to show off her bruises.

"Actually, I have some to show you, Sam," Jenny said as she skipped after her hostess, proud of the evidence of that morning's punishment in the very moment that she was forgetting to abide by its lesson.

After their wives had left them and the men sat back down, David said to Peter:

"Perhaps I can guess what you are thinking, Peter. You think it is curious that Samantha wants to show Jenny her marks in private when both women were naked and tied up in front of us when they are inflicted."

"Yes, I was thinking that, though I also think I know why. Absurd though it seems under the circumstances, Samantha has a sense of modesty."

"It's not completely absurd: it's a way of being respectable."

"But aren't 'respectable people' merely people with dirty minds?"

"Ah, you read Samuel Butler, Peter. Few do nowadays. That's another reason for me to like you."

"Butler was talking about the Victorians, of course," David continued, "and we are properly enlightened and liberal now. ... All right, Peter, you know I'm joking, though we are more liberal in some matters than the Victorians were. My point is that we can never escape respectability in ourselves if we are to show proper respect to other people. Even within the 'lifestyle' that Samantha and I have pursued for some time, there are rules of respectability or decorum. It is not really 'anything goes'."

"For example?" Peter asked.

"The costumes, the masks, the titles or rules for addressing people depending on their status, the whole ritualised play-acting, even by people who practise the lifestyle full-time. It's very significant, don't you think, that even in private groups where they are supposed not to be ashamed of whom they are, some people still pretend to be someone else? Similarly, look how difficult it was to get us four to talk about what we did together in complete privacy as consenting adults yesterday. We cannot escape having rules of decency and modesty."

"So if Sam's tattoo had been real, David, would you have prevented her showing it off in public?"

"Yes, though in theory I would not be ashamed publicly to acknowledge Sam as my submissive; nor would she be ashamed publicly to admit me as her dominant, regardless what effect the notoriety would have on our careers."

"I understand. Jenny once bought herself a slave collar but I would not let her wear it in public. I said it was because our relationship is private. Is that your reason, too?"

"Yes and for an even stronger reason: we have no right to offend or shock other people. The idea that others can be shocked into practising toleration by 'in your face' exhibitionism is a sadly popular and very damaging shibboleth of our contemporary culture. Whole tribes have died from culture-shock; why do we imagine that hidebound, elderly or over-sensitive members of our own society should be immune?"

"I had not thought of that," Peter agreed.

"The toleration I demand for what Sam and I do in private compels me to tolerate the sensitivities of other people. This is how the idea of having to be respectable in order to show respect operates in practise. Some advocates of toleration can be very intolerant themselves. People who 'out' homosexuals, for example. Some in my lifestyle do not fully appreciate this principle."

"What do they do?" asked Peter.

"You may have heard the expression 'vanilla' used disparagingly of those in mainstream relationships. This is one way we kinky people might look down on people different from ourselves."

"I see there is a paradox of toleration," Peter observed "where tolerance does not enlarge but merely shifts its targets."

"Nicely put, Peter."

"How does this apply to our case, David?"

"I want you to understand that I am tolerant of people who utterly despise what Sam and I do. Perhaps they misunderstand the role of punishment in our lifestyle, or they are genuinely disgusted by our practises; yet I neither resent them. I do not think that, because they are 'vanilla', or 'squares', or 'conservative' that they should be shaken out of their happy little ruts."

"So," David concluded, "you can believe me when I say that my friendship with you will not be the least impaired if you tell me that yesterday's session is never to be repeated, that the lifestyle Sam and I pursue does not suit you. I believe we can be perfectly normal friends regardless of what happened last night, which we can agree to forget if you want. A dinner party with us will not always end in a bondage orgy."

"Thank you, David. You have made it very easy for me to tell you about a decision I have made. I will not lend Jenny again to another man. You realise she had a wonderful time with you, so my decision does not reflect on you in any way. In fact, she had too good a time."

"I understand and I respect your decision completely, Peter. It will be good to be ordinary friends with you both."

"I think so, too."

"Good, that's settled," David said, clapping his hands. "Let's go to my study and I'll show you my Samuel Butlers."

Some time later, in David's book lined-study, the men sat in high-backed leather chairs, with a stack of books on the table. Peter had so far admired about twenty books, including first editions of 'Erewhon', 'The Way of All Flesh' and 'The Authoress of the Odyssey'. Now he held David's pride and joy in his hands, a 1791 first volume of Disraeli's 'Curiosities of Literature'. A true bibliophile, Peter occasionally sniffed the books as he turned their pages.

David looked at the mantle-piece clock and said:

"It's 7:30 already, Peter, so whatever plans we may have had for dinner must be discarded. I will order a takeaway. Are you hungry?"

"Famished; but we didn't expect to stay for dinner."

"We invited you for 5pm hoping that you would stay for dinner but we were not sure that you would. Do you like Indian food?"

"It's very kind of you: I'd like to stay and I will answer for Jenny. We both love Indian food."

"Then I'll just let the girls know what I am planning. Back in a minute."

The 'girls' had gone upstairs at 6pm. David thought that an hour and a half was more than long enough for Jenny to see Samantha's bruises. Assuming they were innocently chatting, David simply opened the bedroom door. He immediately backed out of the room again, saying "Oops! Sorry, Sir. Wrong room" in his best imitation of a discreet butler.

David heard Jenny giggling as he retreated. Standing outside, he knocked and spoke through the closed door:

"Jenny, Samantha. Peter and I are thinking of having an Indian takeaway in about half an hour. Would you care to join us?"

"Um ... yes, please, David" came Jenny's sweet voice, speaking loudly to cover an incoherent muffled noise from Samantha. "Sam and I will be down soon, thanks."

As he returned along the corridor, David thought he heard a familiar urgent wail from Samantha.

Back in his study, David said:

"Dinner is agreed on for eight o'clock."

"Excellent. Thanks. Are the girls having a good time?"

"Oh, yes."

"Er, ... apropos of nothing at all, Peter: Do you have any rules for Jenny regarding sex with other women?"

"The question has never arisen, David. Are you going to tell me that your Sam is upstairs fucking my Jenny?"

"Nothing like that at all, Peter."

"I'm relieved to hear it."

"No, your Jenny is upstairs fucking my Sam."

Peter turned to rush to the bedroom but David's hand on his shoulder restrained him.

"Peter, will you take the advice of an older head?"

"I will listen."

"I assume you intend to take Jenny home and punish her. But for what, precisely, is she to be punished if you have no rule about her going with other women?"

"We have a general rule that she does not do things that displease me."

"But you said the question has never arisen. I presume Jenny has never wanted to go with another woman; so how was she to know that it is forbidden?"

"You have missed your calling, David: you should have been a lawyer." David swallowed the insult cheerfully. "Jenny knows very well what I disapprove of; and even if she doesn't, then I can stop her right now and forbid her from now on."

"You can. Will you go and break up their party or do you want to think over the options first?"

"Which options, David?"

"As I see it, Peter, you have three options: you can let them play and say no more about it (unless you want to forbid Jenny in the future); or you can stop them now, rebuke Jenny and hope your friendship with us survives ..."

"Yes?" said Peter, "and the third option?"

"... or we can go and join them..." said David.

**********

Imagine an alternative reality, not subject to our mundane laws of space and time.

There is a room with a Lumenite ceiling. It is dark at the moment, except for a faint blue glow on one wall. We walk over to the wall and see there is a touch-screen control panel. Three buttons show on the screen. They launch pre-set programs.

We touch button 1.

A faint spot of orange light appears on the ceiling, expands to a circle and quickly flares into a white beam, lancing the darkness to pick out a scene in front of us.

It is the study of David and Samantha's house on that same Sunday evening. Dinner is over. The clock on the mantle-piece shows 10pm. David and Peter are sitting in the armchairs sipping whiskies and chatting amiably. The men are at ease with one another and at peace with the world, content that their wives are again 'comparing bruises' upstairs.

The spotlight fades back to an orange glow and goes out. Another spotlight flares, revealing a different scene in David and Samantha's house.

It is their bedroom. Jenny is lying back with her legs spread and Samantha is crouching in front of her, her arms handcuffed behind her back, serving Jenny with her tongue. When Samantha does not do a good enough job, or just for fun, Jenny swipes a crop over Samantha's thigh.

"Ow, Mistress!" Samantha complains.

"Not so fast, Bitch!" Jenny orders. "Go slower. ... There, that's it, Bitch, there ...." Jenny arches her back and surrenders her senses to the oblivion of passion.

The spotlight fades and the room is dark again. We touch button 2 on the panel.

A spotlight illuminates another scene in David's house. Again it is 10pm in the study; but there is Samantha bent over the punishment horse, her wrists and ankles secured, a gag in her mouth. David is whipping her bottom furiously.

"By seducing Jenny, you may have lost us two of the best friends we have ever found," he accuses Samantha, as she cries out in agony. "If you have ruined your business deal as well, then it serves you right!" He whacks Samantha's bottom. We hear the echo of her howls as the spotlight fades.

A new spotlight picks out Peter and Jenny's bedroom. Now it is 11pm Sunday night. Jenny is lying in bed sobbing into her pillow, her chest heaving. The light fades. Another spotlight shows us Peter wide-awake lying on his back in their spare bedroom, his fists clenched by his side. This light also fades.

This ending is too sad for us. We try to launch program 3 but nothing happens: program 2 is not yet finished.

The first spotlight snaps on again: it is now midnight and poor Jenny has cried herself to sleep. The door opens. It is Peter. He kneels by his wife and gently brushes the hair from her forehead. He kisses her. She wakes. He speaks quietly to her, he holds her gently, then more tightly. Jenny returns his embrace with all her strength. The spotlight fades.

We feel slightly better as we touch button 3.

The spotlight reveals a different bedroom in David and Samantha's house. It is 10pm again. Jenny lies on top of Samantha in the 69 position from edge to edge on a narrow bed. The girls are tied to each other around their waists, their arms secured to their sides. We can hear sucking, licking and moaning but mostly giggling.

Now two naked men step into the spotlight. It is David and Peter. They are firmly erect. Peter steps up and pulls Samantha's face away from Jenny's pussy. He orders Samantha to open up and sinks his penis into her mouth. She lathers his cock while moisture from Jenny's aroused pussy drips onto Samantha's throat.

David meanwhile lubricates his penis and Samantha's anus.

"Are you ready Peter?" David asks.

"Yes, David, ready."

"Well, then," said David, "let's begin" and he thrusts into Samantha's small hole at the same time as Peter thrusts into Jenny's pussy. The women gasp and moan. The men fuck their wives in unison, as Jenny tongues Samantha's pussy and Samantha alternates between sucking at Jenny's clitoris and licking Peter's shaft.

"So what was it you reassured me of this evening David," Peter asks, between gasps, "about how dinner parties with you and Sam would not end?"

"A good point well made, Peter" David grunts in agreement but says no more.

The light fades for the last time and the ghostly blue glow of the panel also fades, leaving our imaginary room to the silent darkness.