The Spa Game - Year Two Ch. 08

As always, thank you to my readers for the favorites, follows, voting, and comments. Less Vicky action in this chapter, but hopefully the rest of it will make up for that.

Chip Key: Nickname: value, favor, color

Clouds: 1, Touching, White

Canaries: 2, Kissing, Yellow

Lipstick: 5, Oral, Red

Skies: 10, Sex, Blue

Grass: 25, Anal, Green

Doubles/Oranges: 50, Double, Orange

Fucked: 100, Forefit, Black

========================

Vicky settled back into the same chair she'd placed Evan in when she cashed in her favor with him and finally allowed herself to relax a bit once 2:30am had passed. She had an odd feeling of excitement running through her.

After the blowjob she'd given Evan, she laid low for the most part, sitting in corners and not trying to engage anyone in conversation. The night game had come up and Vicky was both thrilled and nervous when Cyn decided to throw Vicky's entire sit-out fee into one ante pool. She'd been nervous, obviously, because that was a lot of her chips going to one person by default, but she'd also been excited to see how many people would bet. The answer created another bout of positive and negative anxiety as she'd watched no less than eight people put money in the pot, including Noelle and Evan, but also Robin and Ammad. The hand had ultimately gone to Noelle. The twenty chips she'd paid both this week and last had been made up of two red fives and a single blue ten each time, but she also had the red chip she'd paid to sit out of the "pro" game last Saturday night. Someone hunting around could have gotten their hands on a full set of lipsticks from her, so she'd waited around for a while to see if anyone would actually approach.

In the end, no one had come over to her, another event that caused objectively opposing reactions. On the one hand, she was a bit relieved that some unknown person wasn't catching her off guard with a request, but on the other hand she'd kind of been looking forward to it; seeing all of her chips on the table, giving Evan the blowjob, and doing a bit of fantasizing about the other spa members had excited her a bit. Her brain and her libido were definitely crossing wires somewhere.

She blamed that excitement for her current state. When it was clear no one would demand any time from her that evening, she'd hunted around and grabbed a spare blanket, come out to the solarium, and stripped off the tight slacks she'd worn for the day, settling into the chair in just her v-cut panties with the blanket over them. As she sat, she squirmed around a bit, perversely hoping to find a wet spot that might be left over from her time with Evan.

But all the positive anxiety vanished and was replaced by raw tension when she heard the door open, followed by very soft but firm footsteps. She only heard four, but she instantly knew who was there. Neither of them said anything for a while, and Vicky actually began to latch onto her fear as a source of titillation.

I wonder if he'll try to force himself on me. We're in a remote part of the house, and almost everyone else is fucking each other. Would he even give me time to scream?

Would I actually stop him?

The last thought shocked Vicky out of her own reverie and she almost shouted at herself, as stupid as that would be. Still, the traitorous thought threw her for a loop, so much so that she didn't make out what Vincent said once he finally spoke.

"Sorry, what?" she asked.

"I said, I can leave if you prefer," Vincent said.

Please do is what she thought. "You don't have to," is what she said, then cursed herself for apparently still being confused between her brain and her baser instincts.

Vincent traversed the room behind her, never entering her field of view, but she heard him sit. She could picture the chair he sat in; it was another plush wingback, identical to hers, but it was behind her chair and facing in a different direction. It still looked out through the windows, but in order for either of them to see the other they'd have to lean forward and twist around to look past the backrest.

The silence stretched out again, but this time Vicky used it to relax and let her mind wander. At first she tried to put Vincent out of her mind, but he remained like a flickering light just out of sight in her mind's eye, so she mentally relented, allowing some of her thoughts to incorporate him. The ridiculous fantasy of him jumping her while they sat alone played out in her mind again, but didn't have the same impact as before. After a while she instead imagined what they must look like to someone standing outside: two people, seemingly ignoring each other, but sitting close together, looking at the stars. That brought a question to her mind she actually felt like vocalizing.

"Do you sleep here?" she asked.

"I rarely sleep these nights," Vincent replied almost immediately, "But I often meditate. It's restful for me, enough that I feel ready enough for tomorrow night."

Vicky again reevaluated her perception of the Irishman. Not only was he a very dangerous poker player, he apparently went into the highest stakes game of the weekend after being awake for nearly 48 hours. She was never sitting down at that table.

"May I ask why you came here?" Vincent said.

Vicky wanted to tell him off, but she had asked the first question and she had no reason to act like a bitch.

"I like the stars," she said, "Growing up we always lived in cities or suburbs with lots of light pollution. We've still got a lot from the city near Veretrum, but this place is in the opposite direction and it's a pretty remote part of the country anyway, so the view is better. I never get tired of looking at them."

That answer seemed to satisfy Vincent's curiosity and they lapsed into silence again.

A full hour passed, but unlike the last weekend Vicky wasn't tired. She did feel content and like she was still riding the emotional high from before, as if she'd gotten drunk on the excitement. So she was barely startled when Vincent spoke again.

"Miss Silva, would you mind if I made a statement about personal matters?"

"I'm not sure why you're asking," Vicky said.

"Well, last week you made your opinion of me clear, so I'm not sure if you want to hear anything I might say," Vincent replied.

Vicky thought about it for a moment. "I'll at least hear you out," she said.

She thought she heard Vincent take a breath, then he said, "You made your view of me crystal clear last week and I don't want to try to dispute that with you at this point. However, I would appreciate it if you could keep an open mind about me. I don't want to accuse you, but I feel like you've pre-judged me without much basis for it. At the very least you could let me try to counter any specific objections you have."

"Why?" Vicky asked almost immediately.

"I don't feel comfortable giving you a full answer to that question," Vincent said, almost as quickly as Vicky had replied to him.

Vicky almost gasped in shock. He was the aggressor here, what right did he have to withhold information? Then Vicky calmed herself a bit and remembered she said she'd hear him out at first, but then she asked a question. It was hardly fair of her to expect him to give without some take. Still...

"Can you at least give me part of an answer?"

"From a purely practical perspective, we will eventually end up with each other's chips, or at least I will end up with yours. Generally, I don't enjoy trading favors with people who are vehemently opposed to the idea. So I want to see if I should simply play your chips as a buffer so I don't need to use mine, or if I should consider possibly trading them in for a favor, eventually."

Vicky got very angry with her nipples and vagina for how they reacted to that statement.

"How do you know you'll end up with my chips?" Vicky asked.

"I think we both already know the answer there," Vincent said.

Again, Vicky vowed to have some sort of internal meeting so her emotions, her brain, and her sex drive could all get on the same page about the man in the chair behind her.

"So is there something in particular you have against me that I might be able to defend?" Vincent asked.

"I spoke to Kathy Vemour," Vicky said, almost blurting it out.

"Ah," Vincent said, and Vicky imagined him leaning back in his chair, "I imagine she had quite the list of objections and accusations to lay at my feet."

"She did," Vicky said, "But like I said last week, I'm not stupid. Can I ask you a blunt question?"

"I would prefer it in this context," Vincent said.

"Did you know she was trying to snag you so her family could get a leg up on the port deal, or did you just fuck with her because you could?"

Vicky was expecting some sort of pause, perhaps because he was thrown off by the question or maybe in surprise that she'd figured out that much, but Vincent had an answer floating back to her quite quickly.

"The first time she traded in a favor I wasn't intending to frustrate her. I had thought I was pleasurably teasing her. If I'd done my job right, she could have simply given her own sex the slightest graze and she should have had a rather nice orgasm. Knowing her as I do now, it doesn't really surprise me that she denied herself in a fit of pique. When her demeanor became a bit more hostile, I looked into her some more, and that's when her ulterior motives became obvious. Though if I'm perfectly honest I only used that as a justification for what I did on the next two occasions."

"I suppose I can't blame you for that," Vicky said.

They passed the rest of the night having one of the oddest conversations Vicky had participated in. The content wasn't unusual, but it was more intimate than Vicky expected. She would ask Vincent a question whenever it came to her, but sometimes there would be minutes between Vincent's answer and Vicky's next question, and sometimes it took almost an hour. Vicky took what she called power naps on occasion, but she never really went to sleep. The sky outside brightened and Vicky rose to change so she could go for a run.

"Did I answer all of your objections?" Vincent asked as she headed for the door.

Vicky stopped with one hand on the latch. "No," she said, "but I wouldn't mind talking again next week."

* * * * *

Sunday late afternoon found Cyn and Syl sitting in a coffee shop on campus, off in a corner booth. Syl had insisted this talk needed to be between the two of them and they didn't want to disturb Robin, who was napping off what was apparently a rather energetic favor trade with the new girl Lucy the previous night.

It was a location they'd spent a lot of time in the previous year when they met up as friends rather than Mistress and Pet, but Cyn had also done a lot of illicit teasing of Syl here. Unfortunately she sensed that wasn't going to be the case today.

Syl walked in wearing a full length red coat. With her small size she tended to get cold very easily and the day was chilly, so she was completely bundled up when many were making do with a light jacket or a sweater. Despite it being warm in the café, Syl didn't take off her coat. On top of that, she laid her gold and diamond choker on the table between them a few minutes after she sat down. Cyn immediately got worried.

"Cyn, what are we?" Syl asked her quietly.

"We...well we talked about this before," Cyn said wearily, "We're friends but..."

"But we both know exactly how the other's vagina tastes," Syl said, "And occasionally you order me to kneel down and lick your asshole, which I gladly do for you."

"But I like talking to you, and hanging out with you like this," Cyn insisted, "Well...not like this with the tension but...You're a really good friend Syl. One of my best. Maybe my best friend now since I'm not sure I know Vicky as well as I did."

"Is that enough for you?" Syl asked.

Cyn looked at Syl in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"We're really good friends who share a lot of our lives together and we have sex," Syl said, "Does that remind you of anyone?"

"Like who?"

"You and Robin, maybe?" Syl suggested.

"That's different," Cyn insisted.

"I know that," Syl replied, "And Robin knows that. But do you?"

"I don't know what you want me to say, Syl," Cyn said, frustrated.

"Cyn, remember last February with you and Robin?"

Cyn winced. She and Robin had begun an out-of-spa sexual relationship about two-thirds of the way through first semester. Before winter break, they'd actually begun to move toward a romantic one. By the time they got back for second semester, they were officially together. Then during the first spa weekend in February, Robin had traded in a bunch of favors that saw her spending a night with Zach and a girl Purna who'd graduated last year.

Cyn hadn't reacted well. They'd agreed they wanted to keep going to the spa even though they were together, but Cyn had thought in her own head that Robin wouldn't trade in favors anymore. Sure, someone could get her chips and have her do something with them, but she hadn't expected Robin to seek other people out. That had led to a messy, crying, two-week long fight that Syl had needed to help both of them through. It taught them a lot about each other and their relationship was much stronger now.

"I'm not in love with you Syl," Cyn said.

"No, but you do love me at some level," Syl said. Cyn started to object but Syl stopped her and said, "I like that. I love you too, in some way, but not as a girlfriend. And I need you to understand who I am and why I wanted you to live with me this year, and why Bill wanted you there."

"Okay," Cyn said cautiously.

"Most people completely miss this because I'm usually quiet and submissive about things, but I have a high sex drive. My first two years at the spa my nickname was the sex toy."

Cyn looked confused and Syl explained, "I was a bit odd and uninteresting until you turned me on in the bedroom. Honestly, I never really planned to not go to the spa this year. I told that to Bill to calm him down, but when I talked to him over the summer we had a real frank discussion like we hadn't had before about my sexuality. I like having sex a lot. I was going to Bill three or four times a week on top of the spa weekends. We were so relieved when we found you because you can scratch my sub itch without a problem. But you can't keep up with me."

"Really?" Cyn said, slightly challenging in her tone.

"Cyn that wasn't a complaint. You're with Robin and you two are a couple, you need your alone time. But think about how often I walk out with the collar on and start pestering you for attention. If I thought it was healthy I would do that just as much and jump in bed with you two every night, then go to the spa and trade in whatever favors I could get."

"Wow," Cyn said.

"So now that you know that, I need you to do something for me," Syl said, "Stop acting like you're my girlfriend."

Cyn had expected some sort of sexual suggestion, so she was thrown off again by Syl's statement. "I'm not!" she insisted.

"Yes you are," Syl said, "When I was with Ammad I saw the start of exactly what happened with Robin. You were watching out for me, to make sure the big bad man didn't hurt me when he forced me to fuck him. Cyn, I wanted him to fuck me. I want him to fuck me again. You saw how worn out I was at the end. He was good."

"Really," Cyn drawled, remembering watching Syl have multiple orgasms two nights ago.

"No I mean he was good. Part of the reason I keep my hair shorter and shave my pussy is because it makes me look young and vulnerable. If anybody has latent dominant tendencies it brings them out and he definitely has them. That would have been a truly amazing fuck, but I saw you in the corner, tensing up and worried. It was only when I told you to go with a Mistress approach that you relaxed."

Cyn deflated. "I'm sorry," she said.

Syl reached out and took her hand, "It's okay. But I needed to explain this. I'm not with you because you're substituting for Bill, except with the Mistress thing, and Bill doesn't want you protecting me from the big bad men at the spa. I'm going to go to the spa, I'm going to fuck other people there, and then I'm going to come back to our apartment and ask you to wear me out as Pet. But I need you to be okay with that. Because frankly if you're not we have to rethink this whole year."

Cyn breathed heavily and hesitantly asked, "Do...do you still want me to be around, or are you just giving me a chance to bow out gracefully?"

"Yes," Syl said immediately, "I still want you around. You're still my Mistress, and I love that. But not enough to screw up the other things I want to do, and I don't want to be angry at you about it. I'd rather lose my Mistress than my friend."

Cyn squeezed her hand and felt tears stinging her eyes. "Thank you," she said, "It feels kind of screwed up that I'm the mistress and you're sitting here rationally explaining how things work in our relationship."

"I told you before, the sub actually has all the power. Speaking of," she said, reaching forward for the collar, "What does Mistress think about everything I just said?"

To punctuate the sentence, Syl snapped her collar on. Cyn took a deep breath with closed eyes, then opened and narrowed them at her pet.

****

"Robin!" Cyn barked as she entered the apartment. She heard some shuffling in their study room and after a minute Robin appeared. She had on a long-sleeved shirt and yoga pants, but the two things Cyn noticed were the playful expression in her eyes and the gold collar around her neck. She felt a thrill that went from her neck down to her pussy.

She shoved Syl forward roughly so she collided with the ottoman on the floor. It was an oversized one that came with the sectional couch they had and was nearly three feet square. Syl faceplanted onto it, leaving her bent over with her knees on the ground. Cyn quickly stepped forward and put her hand on Syl's neck so she couldn't stand up.

"Apparently we haven't been tending to Pet's needs," Cyn said, "She complained to me, so I want you to straddle her here, no - keep your pants on; she doesn't get to feel your nice skin on her this time, and spank her for me while I get some things."

Robin scrambled over. Cyn pulled up Syl's coat so it folded over, covering the top of her body and leaving everything from her lower back down exposed. Robin straddled her on top of the coat, effectively trapping Syl and blinding her to everything except the floor right below her. Cyn then walked around and yanked Syl's pants down to her knees, exposing her bare ass and partially trapping her legs together. As she rose, she grabbed Robin's head and gave her a deep French kiss.

"Make her nice and red."

Cyn went to their bedroom and retrieved her box of toys; she planned to use a lot of them that evening. She also stripped herself naked and put on some elaborate string panties Robin told her looked more imposing than sexy; they had a flat black strip of cloth that went from the top of her slit back around to the top off her ass, with three thick black strips going across her legs and hips. She left her chest uncovered; both Syl and Robin fixated on her breasts at every opportunity.

She walked back out into the living room to the sound of slapping skin and pitiful squeals from Syl. Robin was smiling, reveling in dishing out the punishment. Syl was so thin that Robin's strikes didn't cause any sort of ripple on Syl's ass, which formed a wide v-shaped valley when she bent over, rather than presenting large globes with a defined crack. Robin followed each slap with a caress of the skin to increase the variety of sensations Syl felt, and by now her entire backside was an even pink.