The Spa Game - Year Two Ch. 01

Sylvia came out of the bathroom several minutes after Cyn was already settled and scrolling through her phone, wearing a white bathrobe just as plush as Cyn's. Cyn glanced quickly at Syl's neck and, seeing it bare, went back to her phone while Syl dropped into the other chair with a tablet. They sat in companionable silence for a bit but eventually Cyn had to speak up.

"I don't think I'll ever get that particular kink of yours."

Syl smiled teasingly, "Aww is Pet making her Mistress uncomfortable?"

"Oh you're going to pay for that later," Cyn said.

Syl giggled and then her expression got more thoughtful, but still excited. "It's complicated," she said, "Like, I've heard of some people really into humiliation where they have the sub clean them after they use the toilet but that's way too far for everyone, I think."

"Definitely for me," Cyn agreed.

"But the idea of it...it gives me a thrill. So the shower thing...I know you're not intentionally dirty, but I also know you don't have time to clean, and at the same time you'd never force me to do it if you knew you weren't so...like I said it's complicated but it boils down to a really heady mix of you having the power to force me to do something like that, plus the thrill of it possibly being real, but also trusting that you wouldn't."

"Yeah that's way too many mental gymnastics for me," Cyn said, "I'm just going to not think about it too much and enjoy that you like to eat my ass on occasion."

"Speaking of mental gymnastics," Syl said, "Can we talk about Vicky?"

"How does mental gymnastics get to her?" Cyn said.

"She's a psychology major."

"And here I thought anyone who wasn't business or pre-med was just in it for the marriage prospects."

"You can't write a best-selling self-help slash memoir without some psycho-babble," Syl said, "And you need psychology if you're going to be a psychiatrist."

"Fine, so, if you weren't looking for some fodder to get your mistress upset, what was with suggesting her at the spa?"

"She's gonna need some support, Cyn," Syl said, "Lawrence is going to drop her, if he hasn't already."

"What?" Cyn asked, "They were together all last year!"

"Officially, maybe," Syl said, "Lawrence wasn't as enthusiastic about meeting up with her after spring break, and she dove into the off-season soccer program hardcore. She also worked hard on her classes in the home stretch. Personally I think she subconsciously knew something was up with her boyfriend and she did all that to fill the time."

"What, he had a fling? Don't half the couples on campus give each other unrestricted hall passes for spring break? Hell I know one pair that kept score."

"His parents took him to a cotillion," Syl said

"Oh," Cyn said, her tone dropping.

While half the high- and middle schools in the U.S. called some of their dances cotillions to encourage the adolescents to dress up and behave a bit, in their circle a cotillion retained its original meaning; the debutante ball where eligible young ladies were "presented" to society. It had evolved slightly from the eighteenth century version where a father would all but auction off his daughter, but not by much. While nobody made promises or actually arranged the marriages for the most part, children were often "introduced" to each other and very much encouraged to spend time together during and after the ball. If things didn't work out in the long run nobody made a big deal of it most of the time, but Cyn was sure Lawrence's parents made no effort to inquire about their son's current romantic interests or, even worse, may have dismissed Vicky as a real prospect.

"I should have been paying more attention to her," Cyn said regretfully.

"I'm the quiet wallflower, remember?" Syl teased, "You take the lead and show us all a good time; I watch. I worked some of my friends over the summer and got the scoop on Lawrence. By the end of July he was spending most of his time with a Nubian goddess from South Africa while her parents were in town for a business thing. Vicky was old news four weeks before we got back, she just didn't know it."

"Syl, I can see taking her on some girls' nights, maybe finding her a one night stand or two, or if she's that bitter maybe one of us demonstrates how fluid our sexuality is with her, but the spa? Really?"

"She's a wounded bird right now Cyn. You know who is a really good avian veterinarian?"

Cyn almost dropped her phone and turned all of her attention on Syl with an intense glare. Even though they weren't in their dom/sub roles, Syl shrunk back and averted her eyes.

"Hear me out," Syl said.

"No," Cyn said, "you are not throwing one of my good friends to the mercy of Vincent fucking McCabe."

"Cyn, you said yourself he didn't manipulate you into the spa-"

"Robin got him to do that, it doesn't mean he didn't. And he one hundred percent arranged for me to end up with you and Bill."

"And that worked out fine," Syl insisted, "It sounds like he's helping people out to me."

"Really?" Cyn asked, "Then why can't I get anything out of Steve about his session with Kathy? And why has she vanished off the face of the Earth?"

"Again, it's not like anyone's complaining about the bitch queen bowing out of the spa," Syl countered.

"People have wanted her gone for a while, but everyone always said she was too vindictive, too rich, too influential, whatever. If all that's true it means Vincent was the only one that could unilaterally decide when she had to go. So tell me why he waited until last year to do it? And don't tell me he secretly has a soft spot for me or Robin; she barely did anything to me and Robin's told me Kathy got ahold of her chips dozens of times and Vincent didn't lift a finger."

"Look, McCabe is playing some other game beyond poker, I'll give you that," Syl said, "It's part of the reason Bill and I thought maybe I shouldn't go to the spa this year."

"He thought Vincent would steal you away?"

"He thought Vincent might try something," Syl said, "but he could never tell me what. That's why I don't feel too bad about ignoring him. And why I think it'll be fine for Vicky to be there. We've got no evidence Vincent is secretly lying in wait to unleash some evil scheme. Sure he manipulates people, but he seems to have good intentions so far and I don't know if anyone else on campus can help her."

"I'm one of her best friends!" Cyn insisted, "We even knew each other before Veretrum!"

"Cyn, she doesn't fit in with most of the people here and she knows it. She's friends with us in spite of that but she hasn't forgotten or ignored it. The fact that we see Lawrence's behavior as normal, even if we don't agree with it, already sets us apart from her."

"And somehow you think putting her in contact with someone who may be the farthest you can get from her perspective is going to improve the situation?"

"I think if anyone can find a way to make a connection in spite of the perspective difference, it's him."

Cyn sank back into her chair and pulled her phone back up, furiously flicking through pages or apps. Syl watched her for a moment before returning to her own phone. Some time later Cyn spoke up.

"I'll withdraw my objection to Vicky joining the spa. If Vincent and whomever else has a way around her lack of trust fund so be it."

"It'll work out Cyn," Syl said.

"It better," Cyn replied, "because if anything really catastrophic happens to her, I'm holding you responsible. And we're going to see exactly how much you can take before you have to use your safe word."