From: exile@pogo.gnu.ai.mit.edu (Heresiarch)
 Subject: story:  The Destiny Game
 Date: 22 May 91 11:03:58
 Lines: 550

The Destiny Game

	The house was set back from the road somewhat, behind a thin
screen of trees.  It wasn't a mansion, nor even especially big.  The
nearest other houses, out of sight around a bend in the road, were
easily twice its size.  There was a immaculately maintained swimming
pool in the back, scarcely used due to the mosquitoes.  Two horses,
one Morgan and one half-Arab, had their heads through the slats of the
fence seeking clover just out of reach.
	The first car pulled into the driveway just after seven PM.
Andrew, the host, leaned out of one of the study windows.
	"Elaine!" he called out and waved.
	Elaine was tall and slender with hair cut rather short.  She
wore a white dress and flat shoes.  Locking her car, she met Andrew at
the front door.
	"Welcome," he said, and gave a little bow.
	A puff of cool inside air, scented with food, ruffled Elaine's
skirt as she stepped inside.
	The wood paneling of the walls and floors was rich, easily
dating the house to last century.  There was some artwork, drawings of
horses and dogs, and faded photos of children.
	Andrew glanced back at the kitchen.  "I have to mess with the
potatoes.  There are drinks and chips in the living room.  Could you
please make yourself at home?"
	Elaine followed him towards the kitchen.  "Oh, Andrew.  You're
doing the cooking.  But that's so much work."
	He shrugged.  "It's either that or hire a cook or convince one
of the guests to do it all.  I don't think either way would work well.
	Andrew was dressed casually in slacks and a polo shirt.  His
hair was disarranged, and became more so as he transfered the potatoes
into a pot of boiling water.
	"Could I help with something?" She asked.
	The doorbell rang.
	"Yes.  Get the door for me, please?"
	Elaine trotted back out to the front hall and answered the
door.
	It was Ben and someone Elaine didn't recognize.
	Ben was a large man, dark-complexioned, built as if he did
something active for a living, or else did nothing at all but hang out
in health clubs.  His companion was smaller, younger, and deferential.
Ben introduced him as Maxwell.
	Elaine figured that Maxwell was Ben's new pet.  The two of
them, however, had come from out of state, and Elaine hadn't had time
to check up on current gossip about them.  Ben was a regular at
Andrew's parties, as was Elaine.
	The three of the adjourned to the living room, where Andrew
had left chips, vegetables, and dip.  The window air conditioner
hummed, almost drowning out the soft sound of the stereo.
	"How's your new job?" Ben asked.
	"It's wonderful.  And so's my apartment.  You should come
visit some time."  Elaine, like most of the guests, used her real name
and didn't care who knew where she worked.  Many of them knew each
other in a real-life context.  There was little danger, however, of
breaches of privacy.
	"Who else do you think will show?"
	Maxwell had said nothing after his murmured hello, and was now
reading one of the coffee table books.
	Ben shook his head.  "Useless to speculate.  It's seven thirty
now.  Anyone who is coming will be here by eight."
	Jennifer and Lee arrived next.  They had come together on one
previous party.  It seemed they were in some sort of a relationship,
or possibly even married to each other.  Jennifer was very pretty,
with shoulder-length, curly redish hair.  She wore a leather skirt,
high heels, and a puffy blouse that dipped to an ample cleavage.  Lee
wore a suit, not quite over-dressed.  He was brown of hair and eye,
and thought very handsome, but not as much so as Arthur.
	Arthur wore jeans, a t-shirt, and a pair of snakeskin boots
that made him look even taller than he was.  His hair was very long,
halfway down his back, and very black.  His skin was pale, and his
face had a beauty called 'classic' by fashion magazines.  It would
have been pretty if he ever smiled.
	He had opened the front door without knocking, and greeted
everyone with varying degrees of civility.  Elaine he ignored after
the briefest hello.  She bit her lip and drank wine very slowly.
	Michael appeared ten minutes before eight.  He was warmly
greeted by the rest of the company, for he was one of the favorite
regular guests of Andrew's parties.  Michael's eyes were blue, his
hair black.  He appeared somewhat rumpled, and smelled very faintly
like an airport.
	About a minute to eight, Andrew re-emerged from the kitchen
and counted up the guests.  He frowned.  One missing.
	"Has anyone seen..."
	The front door opened one last time.  A very small woman in
black appeared in the doorway.  She was slender, with little breasts
and no bra.  Her hair was blonde and buzz-cut.  Her left ear was
pierced with a whorl of seven diamonds, arrayed from lobe to the
near-point at the top.
	"Melissa," Andrew finished.
	Melissa smiled and offered him her hand to kiss.  "I trust I'm
not late."
	"No, not at all.  Just in time for the first drawing.  Have a
drink?"
	The rest of the guests in the small living room shuffled to
make room for her.
	Andrew regarded them all with a slight smile.  "I'll be in my
study.  Please file in one at a time.  Quietly.  I'll serve dinner
after that."

	Ben and Maxwell were the first to draw.  They wandered back
into the hall to whisper afterwards.
	Maxwell showed his small plastic token.  It was black.
	"And you?" he asked.
	Ben pulled his out of a pocket.  It was white.
	"Not quite your style."
	Ben shrugged.  "A change can be nice."
	Max looked down.  "I want to trade.  I don't feel comfortable
with this."
	"Would you be more comfortable at their mercy or having them
at yours?  Think about it."
	"No.  I already did."
	Ben nodded.  "All right.  But you'll be paying for the favor
later."
	Max smiled.  "I always do."

	The rest of the guests drew in turn before hastening to
dinner.
	The table was a huge piece of dark, carved wood, rescued from
a fraternity at the University.  It was at least as old as the house.
Tonight it was spread with china, crystal, and candles.
	Andrew, with a little help from the others, dragged out and
served the salad, potatoes, and grilled salmon.
	"So is this actually your place?" Maxwell asked.
	"Sort of," Andrew said.  "More properly it's my parents'.
They're living in Spain for two years so are paying me to take care of
it."
	"Quite an arrangement, isn't it?" Jennifer said.
	"Yes indeed.  I'm not sure what else I would do for a job
these days.  Things have been so bad since I left school that I've
been taking accounting courses in town."
	There were murmurs of sympathy around the table.
	"I'm sure my parents wouldn't quite approve of the use to
which I'm putting the property.  But then everything is always clean
when they come to visit, the horses fed and the hedges trimmed.  I
sure can throw better parties here than in the old apartment."
	Michael was flirting quite openly with Jennifer.  She tended
to blush easily, and when she did, her exposed skin turned a gorgeous
shade of pink all the way down to her breasts.  Lee was watching with
amusement.  He was sitting between Jennifer and Ben, and was soon
discussing the price of home renovations with the later.
	Elaine tried to talk to Arthur, who was sitting next to her.
He gave her short answers and resumed his conversation with Melissa.
	Andrew watched them all.  The tension around the table
crackled with subtle and not-so-subtle flirtation and complex power
plays, all performed as if for his benefit.  He savored it, letting it
melt through him like a strong drink, and saw things that no one else
else at the table could see.
	Melissa was ignoring Arthur, but with much more subtlety and
grace than he in turn slighted Elaine.  Arthur scarcely noticed how
she insulted him with a word or two or the timing of an answer.
Probably no one else at the table did either.  Arthur just wanted to
be seen talking with such a dangerous person.  Why did Elaine like
him?  It was quite a waste, Andrew thought.
	There were three women and five men.  Andrew was not sorry
that he couldn't keep the numbers even.  The excess of men created a
delicious tension, and endless possibilities for conflict later.
	An hour later the dinner dishes were cleared and chocolate
icecream served over raspberries.
	"Could you just stack your dishes in the sink?" Andrew asked.
"I have lots of work to do before the final drawing."

	>Snickt<
	The door to Andrew's study opened on oiled hinges.  Elaine
tucked the credit card into her bra.
	The lights were out, all but the bluish light of the Macintosh
screen, and the paper out indicator on the Laserwriter.
	Elaine let her eyes adjust to the dark.
	There was a pile of horse tack along one wall, and some boxes,
neatly labeled.  Toys for later.  The computer displayed nothing but a
paused game of Tetris.  Elaine thought of digging in the hard drive,
but refrained.  Where was Andrew's clipboard?  He had written on it
the results of the first drawing.
	Behind Elaine, the door opened, noisily.  She jumped in the
sudden flood of light.
	"Hello," Andrew said.  "Looking for something?"  He shut the
door behind him and casually slid the bolt.
	"Yes, in fact."  Elaine mastered her racing heartbeat and
prepared to negotiate.  "The game is supposed to be completely
random."
	"Supposed to, yes."  Andrew walked passed her and slumped into
the desk chair and tossed the clipboard on the desk, face down.
	"Then how come Melissa always draws top?"
	"Would you do anything to annoy Melissa?"
	"No," She said.  And then, "I'm top tonight.  I want Arthur
for the second drawing."
	Andrew looked up at her searchingly.  "No you don't."
	"I'd thank you not to tell me what I want, but how to get it."
	"Take your chances, with the rest of them."
	The rules of the game were very clear.  Each drew first to fix
their role for the evening, taker or taken.  The second drawing paired
them up.  Yet there was ample time between the first drawing at eight
and the second drawing at ten for negotiation, trades, threats, and
bribery.  The same went for the time between the second drawing and
midnight, the official start of festivities.  As far as Elaine knew,
however, all the intrigue happened between players, and did not
involve the incorruptible master of ceremonies.  Well, supposedly
incorruptible.
	"I don't want to take chances.  I want a sure thing.  And I
don't believe that you get off just watching us.  I think you were
expecting something like this.  What do you want for a sure thing?"
	Andrew leaned back and stretched slowly, luxuriously.  "What
would you do?"
	Elaine took a step closer.  "Anything in the rules.  I don't
have to leave until late Sunday, either."
	Andrew nodded.  "Anything.  Tomorrow.  I want a down-payment
now."
	"Don't you trust me?"
	"Sure I trust you.  Except I developed a raging hard-on during
this conversation, and I don't want to drag back into company like
this.  You haven't changed your mind, have you?"
	"No."
	Andrew pulled a condom out of the desk drawer and tossed it to
her.  "On your knees, like you mean it."
	Elaine smiled.  She knelt in front of Andrew and unfastened
his pants.  He had closed his eyes and dropped his head back against
the chair.  His penis was about average size and very hard when she
had untangled it from his underwear.  She unrolled the condom and
covered it carefully, stroking Andrew's erection with her fingers
before taking it in her mouth.
	Andrew's breath whistled quietly between his teeth.
	Elaine teased the head with her tongue.  She figured they
wouldn't be missed for several minutes at least and wanted to make
full use of the time.  Andrew's gratitude was very important.  After
licking the shaft for a minute or two, even brushing her teeth along
it, Elaine started swallowing the whole length.  She reached down and
played with his balls.
	Latex.  Yuck, she thought.  Should have brought some whipped
cream.
	Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Andrew's face.
His lips were parted and his expression soft and sweet and rapt.  He
didn't touch her, but gripped the arms of the chair.  Yet she could
feel his appreciation, warm as sunlight, as his body quivered and a
moan slipped though his lips.
	Elaine teased the root with her tongue as she fucked him more
quickly.  His hips pumped suddenly, and she felt him climax, arching
his back out of the chair.  She sucked hard and drew out the last
shudder from his body.
	"That was quick," she said once her mouth was free.
	"Yes, well, I'll have you all tomorrow.  Now I have to prepare
for the second drawing."
	Andrew reached for a Kleenex.

	The second drawing took place in ordered silence precisely at
ten pm.  The guests found things to do for the next two hours.  Those
who had drawn black tokens, the masters for the evening, whispered
amongst themselves and made deals.  The slaves guessed nervously and
waited.
	There was a pool table in the basement.  Arthur was beating
Lee.  Elaine watched them, admiring the ripples in Arthur's back and
arms as he played.  Lee glanced at her occasionally and spoke, asking
polite questions.  Lee was nice.  Elaine wondered briefly why she
didn't want him as she wanted Arthur.
	Michael was in the kitchen alone with Melissa, whispering.
	"You drew Jennifer, didn't you?"
	Melissa smiled.  "I shouldn't tell you that, should I?  You'll
find out at midnight."
	Michael bit his lip in exasperation.  "I know you have her.
It's hardly fair, given the ratio, for you to have one of the women."
	Melissa's eyes narrowed.  Perhaps then Michael should have
noticed his danger and backed off.  Or maybe he did see it but paid no
attention.
	"So trade me.  Your slave for mine.  I'll see you in my room
at two a.m. for the payoff.  Got it?"
	"Got it."
	How bad could it be, Michael thought.  Besides, Melissa was so
hot herself, even with her attitude problem.  Michael wouldn't mind
serving her.

	The rule of the Destiny Game was this: as long as the master
did not endanger the health of the slave, or leave any marks that
would still show on Monday, the slave was constrained to obey.
Condoms and gloves were stashed in the bathrooms and bedrooms of the
house.  Safe sex was mandatory.  Masters who damaged slaves were
dismissed from the game.  The slaves had no safeword, except for one.
If they used that word, they would be asked to leave.  In neither case
would a player be granted a return invitation.  That Andrew had never
once dismissed a player was a credit to his organizational talents and
taste in party guests.

	At five minutes midnight all had assembled in the living room
once more.  Conversation had died softly.  Andrew was smiling as he
made some last-minute announcements about the toy supply in his study,
the restraints, clamps, candles and lubricants available to the
masters.
	The clock, a modern and far-too-precise replica of an older
instrument, struck midnight.  A shiver rippled the company from one
end of the room to the other.
	Melissa stood up.  Her heels clicked loudly on the uncarpeted
bits of the floor as she walked to stand over Max, who turned rather
pale.
	She didn't say anything, just pointed down the hall.
	As Melissa and her victim for the night vanished, a collective
sigh of relief, or perhaps regret, rustled the air, barely audible
beneath the air conditioner.  Andrew fed another CD to the player,
watching as Michael returned from the study with a box.
	Michael was a performance artist.  His displays were for some
the favorite part of the party, even for his desperately exposed
victims.
	His eyes met Jennifer's.  She blushed.
	"Stand up," he ordered.
	She did, taking a hesitant step on her four-inch heels.
Michael reached down and unbuttoned her blouse.  Jennifer was
trembling, eyes closed, hands clenched at her sides.  She flinched as
he unfastened the front closure on her bra and pinched her nipples
hard.
	"Very pretty," Michael murmured as he massaged her breasts a
bit roughly.  "We must display you to best advantage."
	Michael discarded her bra and blouse and unzipped her skirt.
Jennifer stood there in nothing but panty hose, her high heels, and an
ever-deepening blush.  He tugged on one of her nipples.
	"Hose?  That won't do at all.  Next time you attend such a
party, wear stockings and a garter belt."
	Michael tore the nylon with his fingers, quickly exposing her
crotch, and then left her bent over while he fetched something from
the box.
	The rest of the people in the room were rapt, eating up the
unexpected treat of Jennifer's body bared for them, painfully aware
that any of them could have stood in her place.  Andrew watched them
with an ever-deepening smile.
	Michael had returned to Jennifer with a medium-sized assplug
and a tube of toothpaste.  He spread her round buttocks with one hand
and gently inserted the lubricated plug.
	"Stand in the center of the room.  Spread your legs.  Wider.
Put your hands at the back of your neck."
	Jennifer complied.  She stood there precariously in her heels
and ripped stockings, her legs just beginning to tremble as the itch
of the toothpaste worked its way into her plugged ass.  Her nipples
were very hard, her mouth panting, and her eyes tightly shut.
	Michael pulled a strap out of the box.  It was a used piece of
horse tack, heavy, dark, and well-seasoned with soap and oil.
	"Pay attention," Michael snapped, reaching out to tug
Jennifer's pubic hair.
	Jennifer's eyes opened.  Michael's fingers were probing
between her legs and into her pubic lips.  She squirmed.  Most of the
room squirmed with her.
	"I'm going to whip you.  Quite hard, in fact.  Do not move
your feet or stumble, or I'll be quite upset.  Do you understand?"
	She nodded.  "Yes, sir."
	Michael took up position behind her.  He swung his arm
experimentally.  There was a wide doorway behind Michael, giving him
plenty of room.
	The first crack of the strap startled everyone, especially
Jennifer.  She nearly lost her balance, then planted her feet more
firmly.  A wide stripe across her ass was fast turning red.  She
moaned softly, bending over and thrusting her hips out to meet the
next stroke.
	"Scratches your itch, doesn't it?" Michael asked.  "That's a
good bitch.  Show me how much you like it."
	And Jennifer did.  She spread her legs just a touch wider and
leaned over further, until her breasts swung with every stroke.  Her
noises grew louder and more insistent, even coherent, as she begged to
be whipped harder.  Her nylons tore further as Michael strapped her
thighs and calves.
	There was a dance to Michael's beating that drew all watchers
into the scene.  Without drama, showmanship, or role-playing, his
utilitarian punishments wrought the most fascinating changes upon
Jennifer's body.  As she trembled, so the audience trembled with her
on the brink of orgasm.
	Michael paused for a moment.  "Andrew, will you steady her for
me, please?"
	Andrew snapped out of the spell of the scene, stood up, and
went to grip Jennifer's ribs with his hands.
	Michael resumed action with the strap, falling into a vicious
rhythm.  Jennifer was leaning into Andrew's hands as sweat spattered
from her body.
	Lee watched from the chair where he sat as Jennifer was
inescapably driven towards climax.  A hand fell upon Lee's shoulder.
A large hand.  Lee glanced up and saw Ben standing over him.  He
started to say something, then shut his mouth as a finger pressed
against his lips.
	Jennifer came, screaming, as Michael whipped her bright red
ass and Andrew steadied her.  Lee watched her nervously, entranced by
the spectacle she made, cowed by the hand that claimed him.
	Ben had clearly had enough of the public scene.  He tugged on
Lee's arm, propelling him down the hall to one of the remaining empty
rooms.
	Lee glanced at Ben and found himself forced to crane his neck
upwards.  He was so much taller.  The hand on Lee's arm was
inescapable.  Ben's body was well muscled and completely functional.
Lee swallowed nervously.
	Once inside the room, Ben pushed Lee back onto the edge of the
bed and began unbuttoning his shirt.  Jennifer's loud squeal
penetrated from the living room.
	"Have you done this before?" Ben asked.
	"Yes."
	Lee shivered as his chest was bared to the cool inside air.
His body was handsome in its own way, soft and graceful with a minimum
of hair.
	Ben dropped the shirt on the floor and stroked Lee's nipples.
"This isn't your favorite, is it?"
	"No."
	Lee held as still as he could until a pinch made him twitch.
	"Are you going to beg?"
	Ben was watching the slender body that shrank almost
imperceptibly from his hands.  Lee was very beautiful, especially like
this, fearful and uncertain and vulnerable.
	"No," Lee said, closing his eyes.  "I will not beg."
	Ben leaned forward, tipping Lee's head back with one hand.
The kiss was forceful.  Ben pressed his tongue in between Lee's teeth,
holding his head still as he kissed more deeply.  Lee squirmed, then
relaxed and let his mouth be taken, but offered no gesture of
lovemaking in return.
	Ben stood up.  He sought to meet Lee's gaze, but the other
turned away.
	The slap came too fast for Lee to duck.  He gasped,
struggling, as Ben clasped first one wrist and then the other into a
pair of Smith and Wesson handcuffs.
	"Why?"
	Ben was on top of him, pinning his arms over his head and
unbuttoning his trousers.  A hand, surprisingly gentle, sought his
limp penis and began stroking it.
	"If you won't enjoy it, then you may consider yourself
forced."
	"If I am forced," Lee answered, "then I will resist."
	Fingers pinched the head of Lee's penis.  He yelped and threw
himself sideways across the bed.
	Ben locked Lee's cuffs to the head of the bed, then pulled off
the rest of his clothes.  Kneeling between Lee's legs, Ben started
stroking Lee to full erection, occasionally pinching a nipple or the
tender flesh behind the balls.
	Lee kept his eyes closed and his teeth clenched as he fought
against arousal.  He was losing, though.  Soon enough he was moaning
and thrusting his hips up to meet the hands that grew ever more coy
and teasing.  Lee looked up to see the demonic grin on Ben's face and
the rather impressive erection filling his pants.
	"You want it now, don't you?" Ben asked.
	When Lee didn't answer, Ben roughly flipped him over onto his
stomach.  There was a brief pause.  Lee heard the sound of clothing
being removed, then the familiar crinkle of a condom package.
	Lee fought and kicked wildly, uselessly, as fingers pried his
ass open and applied lubricant.  Then Lee was too exhausted to fight.
The head of Ben's penis pressed against him, then inside him.
	Lee cried out, then froze as every whisper of movement only
brought him greater pain.  He gritted his teeth and reminded himself
that he could have used the safeword, and that now he had better yield
his body to this other man.  Acting on a tickle of conscious thought,
Lee arched his back against Ben, opening himself up for the full
invasion of an impressively-sized penis.
	"That's better," Ben whispered.
	Lee wept softly, dazed and drunk with pain, as Ben pulled out
and thrust back in.  Teeth closed gently on his neck.  Ben's arms
wrapped around and under Lee's, his sharply-defined muscles rippling
against Lee's skin.  Hands reached beneath Lee to touch his nipples
and play with his flagging erection.  The moments lengthened as Ben
found his own rhythm.  The man clearly had immense self-control, and
Lee wondered if he could be lying here beneath him for hours.  The
thought made Lee sob again.  Then he lost himself in the scent of the
sweat of the one who had taken him.

	Michael had lifted Jennifer up onto the table, then tied her
ankles to her wrists and pushed her over on her back.  He offered her
to Andrew, who declined politely.
	Elaine summoned her most confident almost-swagger as she went
to stand before Arthur.  He glanced up at her serenely.
	"You're mine," she said.
	The corners of his mouth twitched in a gesture as dismissing
and contemptuous as an outright laugh.

	Max was in dire straits.  He lay tied spread-eagled upon a
bed, wearing nothing but a cock ring and two condoms.  These
adornments conspired to keep him hard and desensitize him enough so
that he couldn't quite come, no matter how hard he squirmed.
	Melissa wore nothing at all.  She sat astride Max, her
marvelously toned body and tight vaginal muscles working to bring him
close to orgasm, but not close enough.  One hand lazily played with
her clit.  The other hand held a lit candle.
	Max watched in terror as another drop of wax collected under
the wick, and then fell with a distinct splat upon his chest.
	"Quit moving," she said.  "You're messing up my aim."

	Elaine and Arthur had vanished.  Michael was vigorously
fucking Jennifer as she lay bound on the table.
	It was one-thirty AM and the most deadly serious part of the
game had begun.  Andrew had stopped drinking wine and started in on
tea.  He would be awake, possibly all night, alert to an eccentric
need or sound of trouble.  The real fun hadn't even started.

	Ben had come once, then untied Lee and jerked him off slowly.
Lee was still very sore and now had long claw-marks down his back.
The relief was sweet, though, both of his own orgasm and at last being
out from under Ben's body.  Lee wondered if Jennifer were enjoying
herself.
	They had both heard clearly the sounds of Melissa hurting Max
in the room next door.  At two AM, however, someone entered the next
room.  Ben grinned wickedly and gestured for Lee to be quiet as they
listened.

	Melissa drew herself up to her full height of five-foot-two.
She was still wearing nothing but the diamonds in her ears.  Her hair
was still perfect as only short hair can be, and her breasts rippled
appealingly as she moved.  Michael looked like he was already starting
to drool.
	Max lay on the bed as before, wearing a new and fresh condom,
still desperately hard.  The wax, and quite a bit of Max's chest hair,
had been peeled off with a knife.
	Melissa picked up a vicious-looking dressage whip and gestured
towards Max.
	"My slave for the evening has been very good," she said.  "So
I'm giving him a reward.  In trade for Jennifer, Michael, you will
suck him off."
	Michael's jaw dropped.
	The whip twitched in her hand.  "Move it!"
	Trade deals like the one between Michael and Melissa weren't
covered by the same rules as the relationships between the masters and
the slaves of the evening.  Yet if Michael were so foolish as to back
out, no one would ever trade with him again, and Andrew would probably
stop inviting him back.  Therefore Michael hastily climbed upon the
bed and brought his mouth down to Max's desperate loins.
	Melissa watched, frequently snapping out corrections and
criticisms.  When Michael seemed lax, she clipped him across the ass
with the dressage whip.  He clearly felt it even through his clothes.
	"You're dreadful at this," Melissa told Michael when he had
finished and Max lay back groaning upon the bed.  "I doubt I'll ever
have need of your services again.  Get lost."

	In the next room Ben and Lee each had a hand wrapped around
the other's mouth as they laughed silently and helplessly.

	Andrew was in his study reading when Elaine came in at four.
	"So how'd it go?" he asked, though her face told him clearly.
	"He didn't even get it up."  She sat down in one of the arm
chairs and curled her legs up to her body.
	Andrew sighed.  "Reciting C code in his head, no doubt.
Arthur is just an asshole.  He's too good for anyone who wants him."
	"So why do you invite him?"
	"Amusement value."
	"Well, I'm not amused," she said bitterly.
	"I didn't make you try to fuck Arthur.  Maybe now you'll be
cured of your inconvenient crush."
	"Hardly.  He's so beautiful.  But then I don't think I'll try
this again soon."  She looked away.  "I'm tired.  Can I go have a
nap?"
	"I'm not tired.  I have a full morning planned for us.  After
a snack, I'm going to reward your impertinence by bending you over the
desk and spanking you until you are sore.  Then I'm going to teach you
what tired really is.  Have I mentioned that you give amazing head?"
	Elaine turned to Andrew and grinned.  "No.  And I think maybe
I'm going to enjoy this.  Must have been a lucky draw on my part."