Winner Takes All

A serene expression came over Clearice's face as she left the chair, and crawled her way along Gray's body. Laying still, snuggled against him, Clearice whispered her answer to her lover's original question: So now what?

"Then let me think about it."

By three nights' time, Clearice had thought about it, prepared herself, and put her plan into action. It was a Friday evening. She and Gray agreed that it was best if he found himself some place to be that night. Which he did. He went to single's night at The Border, and casually trolled for objects while Clearice payed a visit to Trisha's. It was through instant messaging the night before that Clearice convinced Trisha to invite her over.

Clcare: I was just hoping that you and I can do it one more time so that I can have it on tape for Gray and me.

Trishwish: And why should I be willing to do that?

Clcare: Because I think you love me. But if you don't, I'll give you copies of all of the videos. Remember The Oral Express?

Trishwish: I remember. You don't need him

Clcare: I know...can I come over tomorrow night

Trishwish: 8:00?

Clcare: perfect

Trisha answered her door, wearing only a pair of silver earring charms of the comedy and tragedy masks, a silver choker, a silver anklet, and a pair of metallic blue pumps with four inch heels. As she drew close to give her company a gentle hello kiss on the mouth, Clearice took in the scent of a recent bath involving mango shampoo, and rose scented soap, and just slightest lingering of a couple dabs of Oscar. Knowing Trisha, Clearice assumed that the dabs of perfume were applied to her sternum, and to the clef of her buttocks. Clearice entered the apartment, wearing a very loose bright fucia tank top, tight black bicycle shorts, and a pair of black low top Pumas. Over her right shoulder was a duffle bag. As she stepped into the living room, Clearice dropped the bag at her feet, and noticed how Trisha had actually cleaned up the place.

"I know." Said Trisha as she headed toward the kitchen, "It was pretty awful in here after my...tantrum. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure. What do you have?"

"Anything you want."

"how about some wine."

"Coming right up."

Clearice began unloading some of the contents of her bag, a collapsible tripod, the digital video camera, her weapon of choice, three small tubes of flavored lubricant, a large brightly colored feather (which she owned since forever, and had absolutely no recollection of how she came about it), and four cds.

"Here you go."

"Thanks." Said Clearice as she took the goblet of wine.

"I have to be honest." Said Trisha, "I really missed you guys. Do you think he'll ever come around?"

"Oh...he will, if I have anything to say about it."

Standing close to each other, the women sipped their drinks. As Clearice tasted her second mouthful of wine, her eyes danced from Trisha's gaze, to her shoulders, breasts, navel, pubic mound, and back up again. Trisha was smiling confidently. With drinks still in hand, the women began to exchange morsel kisses, letting them escalate into ravenous tongue wrapping mouthfuls. Trisha's free hand had found its way to Clearice's pubis, which she gently stroked until reaching it up to take Clearice's drink from her. The women stared smolderingly at one another as Trisha made her way around her coffee table. Before sitting, she placed the goblets on an end table. With that, Trisha cozied herself onto the center cushion, draped her arms along the back, and propped her pump clad feet onto the coffee table.

"I have a request, if that's okay." said Trisha.

"And what's that?" asked Clearice as she set up the video recorder and tripod so that it faced any activity that would occur on the couch.

"Would you be so kind as to take off my pumps, and stimulate me through my feet until I'm in an absolute frenzy?"

"That's a tall order." Said Clearice as she stepped away from the running video recorder, "I don't know how good I am with feet. It was never my impression that you could be so easily aroused through your feet anyway. I think that I would have known by now that they were such a fetish for you."

"Well maybe it just so happens that I don't wish to share absolutely every secret wish with everyone I love." Trisha answered as she gently played with her pubic hair, "I imagine that you'll do just fine."

"Oh, okay." Said Clearice, "Hey, is it okay if I pop a few cds into your system, some, you know...mood music?"

"Sure. What is it?"

"Oh just classical, Pagonini, Bach, stuff like that."

"Well now you surprise me. Classical never struck me as your "fuck me" background noise."

"It's what I feel like tonight, that's all." answered Clearice, having retrieved a scrunchy from the duffle bag, and then bringing herself to her knees on the opposite side of the coffee table, "So...does your foot thing mean that you're up to nibbling my toes too?"

"If you're a good girl... maybe." Answered Trisha as she watched Clearice tie her hair back with the scrunchy.

Clearice gently relieved Trisha of her pumps, and began massaging her feet. She wasn't sure as to how well she was doing until she glanced long enough to notice that Trisha had closed her eyes, and was resting her head against the back of the couch. Before continuing, Clearice took off her jogging shoes, and tank top, revealing her naked breasts. Seated more comfortably, Clearice proceeded to plant tiny kisses from the bottom of Trisha's heels, along her arches, and across her ten properly pedicured toes. Glancing again, she saw that Trisha was fondling her breasts with one set of fingers, and trailing the contours of her belly with the other. Clearice then began sucking each of Trisha's toes, pretending that each was capable of spewing a generous load of cum into her mouth. A few minutes later, she could hear Trisha moaning a soft mantra of pleasure that was just shy of in tune with the Pagonini coming from the stereo's speakers. Her moans grew slightly louder as Clearice interspersed, between each nibble and suck, gentle cool breaths against the aroused woman's toes.

Twenty more minutes had passed before Clearice rose, and took off her shorts, noticing that Trisha's labia was glistening with moisture. Trisha opened her eyes to stare at the now entirely naked woman admiringly, and smiled. Clearice turned toward her duffle bag, and retrieved the feather, her dildo, a tube of lubricant, and a long black lace scarf. Trisha watched intently as Clearice stood beyond the coffee table, with the strap-on in one hand, and gesticulating the command "come here" with the other. Trisha did as she was instructed. She was then directed, through Clearice's body language, to strap the dildo on for her. With that, Clearice took the black lace scarf, and turned Trisha around by the shoulders. Trisha betrayed no discomfort or reluctance as Clearice covered her eyes with the scarf, and tied it securely behind her head. Clearice then turned Trisha back around, and painted her lips and tongue, layering kiss upon kiss. Moments later, Trisha found herself being carefully led back to the couch. Clearice left her for a few seconds, and then returned. For the next moment, the only sound was the dancing violin opening of Bach's Allegro in G major. Trisha was startled, suddenly realizing that Clearice was gliding the feather's edge along her spine. Clearice, still without speaking, urged her to lay flat on her belly. Trisha obliged her, and started to enjoy the feeling of the feather against her skin, especially on her ass. The feather play continued, and Trisha delighted in the lull of the shivers that went up her spine, and through her pussy, which was precisely why she never knew what hit her.

Gray's eyes went wide as he stared at his TV screen, seeing the feather in Clearice's left hand, and a foam cover solid steel rod in the other. Clearice gave Trisha two hard, quick blows to the back of her head, causing the woman to wince, and freeze. Clearice then took the opportunity to bind Trisha's wrists with a set of hand-cuffs, and deal her two more blows against her lower back. It was then that Clearice taped the woman's mouth shut, and pulled the scarf from her head. As tears flowed from her eyes, Trisha felt Clearice applying the lubricant in her anus, and then felt the rough insertion of Clearice's weapon of choice. The tears continued to flow with each thrust of the dildo, while Clearice intermittently dealt sharp blows against Trisha's lower back, ass, and calves. Clearice dealt the pain in such measure that Trisha had no chance to even work up a whimper, let alone a scream.

Clearice was seated beside Gray, her eyes watching the scene as well, her expression revealing mild contempt. Each time Gray looked at her, between the action, she did not look back. Facing the screen once again, Gray wondered where and when his fiancé might have purchased the choke chain and shock collar she was using on Trisha. The reality was that Clearice knew next to nothing about BDSM, and just assumed that what she bought was appropriate. He stared as Clearice led a hobbling Trisha into her bath room, the choke chain tight around her neck, the prongs of the shock unit held to her vulva, which Clearice had used on Trisha for the last fifteen minutes of footage, sending the highest level of charge through a hand held remote control.

Clearice placed the collar and its remote on the vanity, and then helped Trisha into the tub. Trisha's hands were still in cuffs, and Clearice had also procured another pair with a longer chain, which bound Trisha's feet. Still choking her just enough to have the control she wanted, Clearice eased Trisha into the tub, placing her so that she was reclined at an angle rather than seated upright.

"I want your mouth open from this point forward." Whispered Clearice, her words dripping from her throat like the venom of a viper's fangs, "But if you fucking scream, I will beat you until you bleed."

Trisha nodded affirmatively, and tried not to stare at the purple bruises about her breasts, hips, pussy and legs. Clearice then ripped off the tape, threw it aside, poised her pussy above Trisha's face, and presently began to piss all over it. Trisha winced under the spray, barely turning her face away out of fear.

"Now don't move." Clearice commanded, "Understand?"

But Trisha could not , would not even nod. Her psychological wounds were uncovered, exposed, and bubbling in the salt and vinegar of Clearice's retribution. Clearice turned her body around, and poised her ass above Trisha's face. Trisha squeezed her eyes tightly shut as Clearice's shit fell upon her face, and rolled down her chest. Emptied, Clearice slowly left the tub, and returned seconds later with the key to the hand-cuffs. She unlocked them, and rid Trisha of them, and then handed her a generous amount of toilet paper.

"Wipe my ass clean." Commanded Clearice, spreading her cheeks over Trisha's face. Trisha did as she was told.

"Clean my shit off of you. Take it to the toilet, and flush it. Watch yourself or you might be eating it."

Trisha did as she was told.

Clearice then relieved Trisha of the ankle cuffs.

"Stand in the shower."

Trisha did as she was told, and Clearice followed in behind her. Clearice then turned the water on, checked its temperature, and turned the shower on. Gray stared as Clearice went about washing Trisha clean, performing the act seemingly with total and complete love, tenderness, and care, as if none of what he had just seen ever happened. It was not much longer after that when Gray finally stopped the tape, tossed the remote aside, and then cradled his forehead with both hands as if to dam a flood of ache. The couple did not move, nor did they speak for a long while.

"So does this mean that you want to...kick my ass, and shit on me!?!" asked Gray, spitting the words.

Clearice still did not speak. The silence continued as Gray found his way to standing. He began pacing the floor, imagining that he had to run away with Clearice to the opposite end of the country, turn her in to the police, go to Trisha's in order to find her actually beaten to death or deal such a beating to Clearice that she would never ever again think of asking him to have sex with a man or defecate on his face.

Suddenly, Clearice spoke.

"What did you say?"

"I said," said Clearice, raising her voice, "She will either move, and set up shop somewhere else...or..."

"Or what..." asked Gray, returning to the sofa, and facing her, "stick around to press charges!?! I'm taking all the tapes out of here. I just need to figure-"

Gray was startled by the ring of the door bell. His eyes met Clearice's, and it bothered him that he couldn't read her expression. Clearice rolled her eyes, heaved a great frustrated breath, and then rose to answer the door. She opened it, and Gray saw Trisha beyond the threshold. She was dressed in an uncharacteristically drab ensemble of loafers, tattered jeans, and an old Cure concert shirt.

"Come in, and close the door behind you please." Instructed Clearice, her voice ringing mildly of disdain.

Gray watched Trisha, her eyes moist with concern and dejection, enter, close the door, and follow Clearice to the sofa.

"Sit at my feet." bid Clearice as she returned to her usual side of the couch.

Gray stood, mesmerized as he watched the women's behaviors.

"look at me."

Trisha did.

"Do you have to be so fucking predictable Trisha?" said Clearice, the sarcasm dripping.

Trisha blushed, and looked away. With the fury of immediacy, Clearice seized Trisha by the hair and gripped her other hand tightly over the woman's mouth.

"I told you not to bother us. Why are you here?"

Trisha didn't answer.

"I asked you why you are here God damn it!!! Growled Clearice between her teeth as she began hitting the woman repeatedly on the back of her head, one the major areas of impact she struck the night before.

"Clearice!" Gray tried to break in, "What the fuck are you doing!?!"

"I give in!!!" Trisha cried as she attempted to embrace Clearice between her slaps and punches, "You win! I'll do anything you ask, anything! please, please don't ever ask me to go!!! Please!!! It was you that gave me the choice, and I choose to stay with you and be your slave!! It's over! You won! You won."

Silence filled the apartment once more. Clearice released her grip and sat back. a look of severe contemplation crossed her face.

"We never gave you any choice." Said Clearice, "You just imagined we did because of your fucking game. I mean really Trisha; How the fuck are we supposed to trust you? You might try to kill either one of us as payback for what I did to you. all you have to do is bide your time, and the opportunity will show itself, and then you'll win. I mean you'll lose everything, but in your fucked up head, you'll think you won. so if that's our fate, it would be best for the three of us if you just left us alone. if the game is over, then cut your losses, and get the fuck out of our lives."

Trisha made a hurried attempt at wiping the tears from her eyes, and then reached into the back right pocket of her jeans. From it she pulled a small folded piece of paper, which she extended toward Clearice. Pausing, glancing suspiciously at both Trisha and gray. Presently, Clearice took what seemed to be a check, and opened it. She said nothing as her eyes riveted across what was written.

"Trisha," said Clearice, her eyes suddenly glazed, "This is a check for fifty-three thousand dollars."

"That's how you can trust me." Trisha whimpered, "That's all I have. Use it as a down payment for a house, and I'll take care of you guys for the rest of your lives."

The check suspended between her two hands, Clearice gazed at Trisha, and then turned to look at Gray.

"Trisha?" said Clearice, still looking at Gray, "Gray and I have to discuss this. For now, this is what I want you to do: Go to the bedroom, and get undressed please. Then I want you to go in the duffle bag I brought to your place, which is under my side of the bed, take out the choke collar, and come back in here, wearing it. That's a good girl."

After Trisha left the room, Clearice stood, and then turned to see children playing outside the bay window. Clearice drew the blinds, slipped out of her shorts and t-shirt, and then tossed them aside.

"Are you crazy!"!" whispered Gray, moving very close to Clearice, "You are crazy! Now I'm finally convinced!"

"Gray dear," whispered Clearice as she stuffed the check in one of his open hands, staring boldly into his eyes, "You're calling me crazy!?! You need to be more careful of exactly what you wish for. You, my lover, should take this opportunity you have, and bask in the glory of it, because most guys would beg to have the situation you now have. You don't want any other cock around here? Fine. You don't expect to be physically abused or defecated on for another person's pleasure? Fine. No one here will force you to do anything you don't want to do. But Gray, why should you be the only one who has his fantasies fulfilled? shouldn't I be able to have the kind of sex or the kind of partner I want while you get all the pussy you want, the way you want it? And while we're on the subject: You need to make sure that any chick you try to bring in here has no sexually transmitted diseases. ,oh, and if you can screen out the chicks with the psychological diseases, that would really be great."

The couple turned to see Trisha entering the room, the choke collar around her neck, the chain dangling between her breasts, and Clearice was visibly surprised to see that she had the shock collar in one hand, and it's remote in the other.

"Now you can stay, and fuck around with us," whispered Clearice, her mouth now very close to his, "Or you can go do whatever you want."

Clearice stepped around him, and returned to the couch. Gray observed as his fiancé, directed her slave to start making love to her feet. Clearice relaxed, folding her fingers behind the base of her skull, her elbows pointed toward the ceiling. He then arrived at an understanding of what he was dealing with. Clearice had discovered power, and through that discovery, he was given power by extension. Gray then thought what he had originally thought the day first gained Clearice's confidence: This was all too good to be true. His next thought was a recollection of something he read, and never forgot: Freedom is a subtle kind of oppression. Gray looked at the check, confirming for himself that it did indeed reflect the amount of fifty-three thousand dollars. As he grabbed his keys from the kitchen table, he realized the basic anatomy of his plan: a. Prove the genuineness of the amount by putting the money in his checking account, eventually providing Clearice with half, b. Figure out how many other ways he can convince Clearice that he trusts her without genuinely trusting her or her slave, c. Explore his imagination in the event that what so far seems to be true is true for as long as he can get it up, and d. Work out the worst possible scenarios of the whole thing, and develop a viable back up plan of escape.

Prepared to leave, Gray stood poised at the door. He turned to see that the women had switched positions. However, Clearice, rather than returning the favor of foot sex, was preparing to send an electric charge into her slave's clitoris. Gray knelt beside Clearice, finally noticing the bruises on Trisha's body, and told her only part a of his plan's structure. Clearice faced him, and smiled slightly.

"Hurry back baby. Said Clearice, kissing him tenderly, "We have a victory to celebrate."