Bound & Free Ch. 09

This was intense. She'd never been treated like this. She wanted more. It was a sauna under here. She was almost breathing out steam as she panted out her pleasure.

Her stomach churned. Her digits brushed that special spot inside of her perfectly. She couldn't repress a squeak as it pushed her dangerously close to the edge of something bigger.

Her dew flowed freely from her, slickening her sheets, mingling with her sweat, her whole body wet. She felt nasty. She loved that feeling.

She groaned around the hand she'd stuffed in her mouth, her teeth painfully poking into her. That only made her feel hotter. She moaned hotly, the heat of shame mixed with lust.

Alice felt something approach, inevitable, crowding out all thought in her mind. Alice squeezed her eyes tightly shut, perhaps to make space for it.

It pushed her over.

Her hips lifted from the bed, and fell again, suddenly.

They rose again. Her body shook.

With a strangled squeal she exploded.

As she lay there in the afterglow, soaking wet, Alice thought. She thought about cleaning this mess, as soon as possible. She thought about Tristan. She thought about herself most of all. As she went through the motions, she couldn't call herself a good girl anymore, not after this. Her self image, that pure and noble person she'd thought she was lay stained by him. He'd won, him and Stacy. Alice couldn't deny the evidence - she wouldn't be any kind of reporter if she did that. How could a deviant like her dare criticize others? Who was she? Did she ever know herself at all?

~~~~

Four depressing days went past. This morning Tristan was sitting on his bed, listless, like a puppet with his strings cut. The weak morning light cast his dorm room in shades of blue, matching his mood. Reality was back, time to wake up. Hank was at his make-up table, humming a jaunty showtune, painting his face and liberally applying pungent perfume. Nothing seemed to bother Hank. The difference underlined Tristan's misery. Maybe Tristan should be more like his roommate.

His problems assailed him on all sides. He had to find the money to pay his own tuition from somewhere, Stacy was going through something but wouldn't let him help, Alice was treating him like a stalker. At least things couldn't get any worse.

Stacy didn't want to share with him the reason why the simple idea of calling her parents had her tied up in knots. (No, not in the good way - pervert.) In fact, she'd barely spoken with him except to confirm she was "doing okay" whatever that meant. He had no idea, but his mom had said it wasn't good. She said all he could do was be there to support her, maybe send her a nice gift to show he cared. So he had... but mom would probably be appalled if she knew what he'd sent.

Memories of Alice's conflicted expression in the library flooded back, drowning him in guilt. Pulling him back under. Poor Alice. Every day since, Tristan had tried to find her, to apologize to her. Tristan had skipped his lectures and even enlisted Stacy's help in finding Alice. The few times he'd actually managed to find Alice she ducked away. Walked right past him. Pretended he didn't exist.

Although she wasn't making eye contact, Tristan knew she'd seen him. A mask of fury dropped over her face when he was nearby. Each time he saw her she looked more pissed off. The one time he'd actually been beside her long enough to say a loud "Sorry", she'd actually turned and physically run away. Bystanders had stared at him, their disgusted, accusing gazes firmly nailing him in place. He wasn't a monster. Was he?

Tristan suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, shocking him out of his thoughts.

"You're even mopier than usual, little Trissy. I'm guessing you couldn't close the deal with Alice?" Hank asked, as if he already knew the answer. "I expected as much, bro. She took what she could get and walked all over you. Bitches are all the same."

Where before Tristan would have stuttered something noncommittal, just going with the flow, thanks to Stacy and Alice he had found a little backbone. Now he could respond, correct him. That desperate need to be liked had been broken.

"Not exactly, Hank." Tristan sighed. "If you must know she caught me in a compromising..."

"I know, I know. After that first date it was all downhill. You couldn't keep her interested." Hank said, shaking his head. "You win some you lose some."

Hank gave no sign he'd heard anything more than what he'd wanted to hear. It was like anything Hank didn't expect was irrelevant. Wasn't Hank trying to help him?

"You keep wasting the chances I give you, man." Hank shrugged. "This was always going to happen though. No offense, but you've got no mojo. I used to be like you before I wised up. I know, look at me, I'm the bomb now. You'd never think it. You have to look at this as a blessing. It's a wake-up call, like I did. You're just like me."

That was the first time Hank had said anything like that. Had this confident peacock of a man ever been like him? It was difficult to imagine, though it explained some things.

Hank laughed.

"Also, you know, this is a good thing. For some reason Alice has suddenly gotten way hotter, nuclear hot if you get me. Like kaboom! She must have realized she can do better, traded up. Sorry, I know it sucks, but sooner or later a chick that hot would leave you for a better man. We act better but we still belong to the animal kingdom, Trissy. Women will always seek out an alpha. But don't worry man. I'll hook you up soon, with another chick more your... species. I've got you, bro."

Hank tousled Tristan's hair like a child's, and left, whistling obnoxiously. Maybe Hank was just trying to be his friend, in his usual domineering way. Okay his friend was heavy-handed, a bit offensive, but his heart was in the right place.

That species remark was a bit hurtful though, wounding his confidence. Was it just him, or was Hank trying to chip away at his ego? No, he was overthinking this. Hank was his friend, he'd helped Tristan so much with his anxiety in the past. It must be Tristan's mistake, was just him being oversensitive. It's just... difficult to dismiss because it's similar to the way Hank treated women he dated. Maybe it was just Hank, maybe he treated everyone like this. The dismissive uncaring way Hank played with women's feelings might be driven by an edge of anger, or fear of regressing back to his own past. Or maybe Tristan should keep the mindreading tricks restricted to the bedroom.

Fundamentally, when it came to playing with women's feelings, was Tristan any different? Was he on the same path Hank had paved?

No, that wasn't right. Those thoughts were a trap. Hank chipped away at women's egos, while Tristan was trying to build them up by... what, tying them up and humiliating them? How did that make sense, Tristan? Was he really helping them, or taking advantage? Both Stacy and Alice had some buried issues; Tristan could tell in the way they responded to him, in the contrast from their usual selves. That didn't make it right. His tastes were monstrous, yes. But rather than controlling Stacy & Alice through their insecurities, he gave them a choice.

Who knows, hopefully they were finding freedom through bondage. He could be like a perverted chaperone, not a jailer. Not a monster.

Hank was right about one thing - guys like him weren't able to speak with beautiful women, he didn't belong in her orbit. His 'sessions' with Stacy were the only way someone like him could deeply communicate with someone like her without their respective masks in place. Had he corrupted her? No, she was working through something, if anything she was using him for free 'therapy'. Ha! Sure, like that was such a hardship. If it meant Stacy became a little less tightly-wound then perhaps she'd look back one day, on her rich husband's yacht with her three kids and decide her time with Tristan was worthwhile. In turn he saw something no-one else would, he knew Stacy better than anyone... for a short time.

Alice was different. Had been different. He'd had hopes of a future with her... while still having sessions with Stacy. What did he expect, by telling her Alice would just happily let him share intimacy with some other woman? That didn't make sense either! He was an imbecile. He was awful, was there any question why Alice didn't want him? Logic aside, it hurt; having his dream of a relationship crushed, being suddenly cut out of her life. There was a throbbing pain in his heart whenever Alice came to mind.

Alice was probably trying to let him down easy without the big movie scene. It's not like Alice wanted some loud melodrama with him loudly and repeatedly declaring his lover for her. He was acting like a stalker. He'd better stop trying to speak with her before those subtle brush-offs became more overt, more hurtful.

If he wasn't ready to end whatever they were together, then that was his problem alone, but he'd been trying to make it hers. He needed to respect her wishes. It was her choice and continuing down this path felt like forcing her to change her mind. No way.

In conclusion, he had girl trouble, as his mom had predicted. Maybe he should do his meditation like his mom had recommended? As if on cue, his phone rang shrilly.

"Hi mom." Tristan said, without looking.

His phone was silent for a moment.

"My, my, Tris, how kinky." Stacy said, a smile in her voice. "I was just calling to see if my favorite Master was free, but now I'm finding out all kinds of things. And I didn't get you anything. You're going to have to explain that to me."

"Sorry." he said briefly.

"You don't sound yourself." her voice changed, suddenly serious, concerned.

"Mention my heart chakra or the power of healing crystals and you'd sound just like my mom." he said flippantly, trying to distract her.

"I won't dignify that pseudoscience mumbo-jumbo with a response. No offence." she sighed. "Is Alice still not talking to you?"

"No. But how are you? Have you heard from your parents?" he asked, changing the topic.

"Yeah, but it's worse than I thought." She sighed. "Only my mom is picking up, she just says they're busy."

"Well that's fine, right?" he said, confused. "They're just busy."

Why was this such a big deal to her? Sometimes Tristan went weeks without hearing from his parents. Maybe she was just really attached to them or something?

"You don't get it - busy is code. They are plotting something. But there's no point worrying spending my energy worrying about something I can't control. I don't want to talk about it." she said, with finality.

He almost laughed, but sensed she'd take it badly. Codewords, plotting and intrigue. The obsessive up-to-the-minute planning he'd seen on her phone. It was like her world was a spy novel.

"Right, they've probably bugged the phones." he joked, unable to resist.

"You jerk." she said without heat. "Don't think I'm going to let you change the subject. I know you were hoping to date Alice long term. I might come across as some unfeeling ice queen but I repay my debts. I can't help but feel responsible for the whole... you know."

Repaid? Was Stacy high? Hadn't she given him his first ever blowjob? The value of that was inestimable - Stacy! A woman as unreachable as a star had deigned to not only seek him out but was eager to debase herself with him. Call him Master. Wear a collar of darkness around her radiance... And that's not even mentioning that, er... facial. Then that erotic tableau, Stacy feeding Alice his cum. A mote of joy sparked within him. He could have died a happy man in that moment. Did he really have that much to complain about? How could he be that spoiled? If anything he still owed Stacy something.

"Ice queen? No, you were pretty hot the last few times I saw you." he lamely tried to compliment her.

"Eww, barf - you'll need some better lines if you're going to persuade Alice to go on another date." Stacy laughed.

"Thanks for the confidence boost." Tristan groaned. "I'm gonna hang up now."

"You know what, Master? I'll handle your little girlfriend situation. It'd distract me. Least I can do." Stacy said, and abruptly cut the line.

Wait, what could Stacy possibly mean by that? Tristan dumbly held the silent phone to his ear for several long seconds, but she was long gone.

~~~~

As she often did, Stacy reviewed her recent social interaction, looking for lessons learned. In this case, her conversation with Tristan. She'd been honest - she did need a distraction. She'd spoken without thinking, but she'd been correct. The more she thought about it the more the idea sunk in. Admittedly it was just escapism, any excuse to put her worries on the back-burner, at least for a while.

Stacy had spent days endlessly theorizing about what was going to happen with her parents, what she could have done to irritate them. There were so many things, known and unknown, which would piss them off. Most days even an innocuous 'thank you' with the wrong tone or timing was enough to trigger an explosion. Her biggest secret - her reckless dive into this new fetish - was just a drop in the ocean of possibilities. One thing was certain - the strained build-up meant it wouldn't be something small. She used to receive dozens of calls each day from her father. This sudden and unprecedented cessation was darkly ominous, like the shoreline receding precipitously in the moments before a tsunami smashes into land. It was like fingernails were continuously scratching at her brain, distracting her from everything.

She couldn't change her situation or prepare anything, so now had a solvable problem to distract herself. The process of going through the old familiar steps was calming. First: simplify it. Trimming away the excess detail, it was a fairly standard problem, she'd dealt with several of these. Guy offends girl, girl cuts off contact, one of them comes to Stacy for advice, offers her a future favor. Sometimes an apology was enough, sometimes more was needed. Sometimes it just wouldn't work out, and they needed to accept it was over. Tristan merited a little extra effort, and Stacy had some success at reading people. She could go and catch Alice, speak with her to understand what she wanted. Then she could advise him better.

The cynical side of herself asked why she was bothering to consider this. This wouldn't benefit Stacy directly. In fact Tristan may cut Stacy out of the picture if he started to date Alice seriously, meaning she'd have to go back to self-medicating for stress relief.

Why couldn't Stacy just ignore this, even prod it her way? No. She was going to do this just to be nice, without thought of reward or sexual favors. Well actually, come to think of it, he'd probably be very grateful.

But it would be so demeaning, wouldn't it? Pleading with the other woman? And, if she was successful, Alice would most likely join Stacy as Tristan's other girlfriend... er, only girlfriend... Whatever! Look, regardless of what she called it, Stacy would effectively be making it happen. At the heart of it, she'd be submissively bringing him another woman. She shivered at the thought, feeling strange. Was she so far gone she was getting turned on by bringing another woman into Tristan's bed? Cold shame ran through her veins toward her heart and out of it pumped hot pleasure, running through her arteries. Both were inseparable parts of a system that still mystified her mind, but her body had grown to crave. No, that couldn't be true! Surely she only got off on being submissive during sex. Even though they, er... hadn't actually had sex yet.

This introspection was wasted effort; she'd already promised her Master, so the decision was already made. 'Why' didn't matter anymore. How could it possibly matter to a slav... er, well she knew the rest.

She felt relief flood through her, like a weight had been lifted.

Now to do her due diligence. Before speaking with Alice she had to take the situation she'd just analyzed and consider if the action she'd chosen should change given their specific circumstances. First, add her relationship with Alice - Stacy had shared a kiss or two with her. Second, Stacy wasn't a neutral third party, Alice had caught her in a compromising position with Tristan. Third, the oddness of Alice seeing Stacy wearing nothing except a dog collar with Tristan's name on it. In retrospect that should have been mortifying, why hadn't she felt that way back then? She'd need to think about that later. Stacy took a moment to carefully clear her mind and arrange the components in the right structure like a mental jigsaw. Actually, all things considered, optimally her next move wouldn't be to meet Alice now. Instead she should advise Tristan to...

Her phone buzzed. She'd received a message from "Master Tristan". She'd just gotten off the phone with him. What did he want?

"Forgot to say I dropped off a package for you this morning. Follow the instructions inside. This should help keep your mind off things. You're welcome."

Her mind whirled, her earlier thoughts forgotten. He'd gotten something for her? Stacy considered the complex equation of accepting gifts for a moment. If she accepted this, then she'd owe... Wait just a moment. Tristan was her Master. He had sent her something. Refusal was like disobeying; unthinkable. She could only accept. She didn't have to think further. The simplicity was refreshing. She just had to choose to follow the instructions in the box or not play the game. She wouldn't know until she opened it.

Besides, if his financial situation was anything like her PI had said - and they rarely made mistakes - then this represented quite some sacrifice for him. Stacy didn't consider it strange in the slightest to have Tristan investigated. Absolutely, she'd had her people do a thorough background check. It was a matter of course - everyone in her circles did it, secrets were power. Though the subject would cause some waves. She wasn't an idiot - she'd just lost her mind a little, just temporarily - of course she'd used a different firm from the usual. Stacy always ensured she thoroughly investigated all her romantic prospects... wait, er... close friends... no, he wasn't on the approved list... person she could submit to fully without artifice or evasion? Just be herself? Her mind spun for a moment. With an effort of will she pulled herself together. Sometimes labels weren't helpful, she decided. Not unless they were the imporant labels, like Master and... the other one.

She'd just go get this mysterious package and then go see Alice before the woman's next lecture. Stacy had a nagging feeling she had forgotten something important. Never mind. After she'd met Alice, Stacy would have all the time in the world to try and remember what she'd forgotten.

~~~~

This wasn't right. It wasn't right at all. After just a handful of days Tristan had already stopped seeking Alice out to apologize. Did she really mean that little to him? Hadn't he watched a single movie? The degree of the pursuit was directly proportional to how much he liked her. The guy was supposed to chase the girl, do some big public confession. Preferably right in front of the rival, who'd turn green - or in Stacy's case a gorgeous emerald - with envy. That's what was supposed to happen. After the credits had rolled he'd take Alice to bed and spank her for ignoring him, then he'd fuck her until she was insensate and gibbering. Or, uh, something like that anyway. Okay, Alice was a little horny. A lot horny. And very angry.

She found herself alone at a tiny rickety table in a busy coffee shop, cradling a caramel mochaccino. Her go-to comforter. The roar of the crowd drowned out her thoughts, muting the pain. The clink of cups, the squeal as the baristas frothed the milk, the roar of the grinders... there was something comforting in all the noise and fury washing around her. Even the lighting, dim inside on this bright summer's day, matched her mood. The sunlight tried to intrude, streaming through the windows, illuminating motes of dust which danced to a mysterious tune. The air carried scents of sweet pastries, coffee and wood though the the industrial iron decor, exposed beams above, the packed tables around her, right to Alice's table. Life went on while she sat there slowly sipping her hot drink.