The Spa Game Ch. 02

"Get up," Robin said.

"For what?" Cynthia groaned.

"It's Sunday," Robin said, "or did you drink and fuck away your memory of Friday?"

Cyn groaned. She definitely had a hangover and didn't want to deal with the new imperious, challenging Robin. Then her words registered and Cyn's memory returned; she'd followed her roommate out to find out where she went every weekend, and was promised answers today. She also remembered the night before.

"Sorry about your bed," she said.

"Why, did you piss in it?" Robin asked.

"What?" Cyn said as she sat up. Then she realized she was in Robin's bed. "Oh fuck me."

"That would explain your sheets," Robin said with a smirk.

"No...shit. Vicky's date carried me home from the party and they had a quickie in here before they left."

"Kinky."

"I was so out of it I didn't realize I was in the wrong bed," Cyn whined.

"Well if you want we can skip the whole talk and just do laundry," Robin suggested.

"Fuck no," Cyn said, "I want answers. Where the fuck did you go? And what was that shit about throwing me out? I thought we were cool. Friends even."

"We are friends, Cyn," Robin said, "But this isn't about us. This is bigger. Now if you want answers, come with me."

"What for? Can't we talk here?"

"Well I don't really want to bask in the smell of old sex. Anyway, I can't give you the answers. You have to talk to Vincent."

"You know you sound like a bad movie, right? 'I don't have the answers you seek'" Cynthia said, mocking an old wise man. "Who the hell is Vincent?"

"Vincent McCabe."

Cynthia forgot to answer and only remembered to close her mouth when she saw Robin smirking. Vincent McCabe was the son of Irish royalty; his family could trace their line back almost to Rome, and unlike a lot of such families, their wealth hadn't been lost or stolen hundreds of years ago. Rumor was his parents regularly talked to the British royals. Their gene pool was almost as good. McCabe the man was muscled, over six feet, and had long red hair framing blue eyes. He made girls wet just by walking into a room and, even among the haughty and entitled, Cynthia was sure he could ask almost any woman to drop in front of him and suck him off in the middle of a class and she'd be milking his cock before his echo died.

"Come on Cyn. Get your head straight and put something on. And don't primp; you're not going on a date with him. Think of this as a business discussion."

*****

She'd never been this close to him, and her heart, head, and pussy were fighting for control of her actions. She wanted to ask him about his family to try to be friendly, she wanted to pick his brain about how to talk to European royalty, and she wanted to tear her clothes off and rape him right in the middle of the library.

They were at a study desk up in a higher level of the stacks of books she was sure only the librarians and older teachers ever touched or even looked at. It was secluded enough to give them privacy, but in full view of the rest of the library; if she'd actually assaulted him at least twenty people would see. Robin had led her there and then stepped away, though Cyn saw her sitting close by.

"So," Vincent said, his voice deep and flowing with brogue. "Robin says you tried to follow her on Friday?"

"Yes," Cyn said once she realized he wanted her response.

"And why did you do that?"

Even though he was only three or maybe four years older than her, she felt like she was talking to a much older man. "She...She's got something. You all do. You have some sort of society. I wanted in."

"And you thought simply following her would get that for you?" Vincent teased.

"I don't know. I just...I want it."

"And you get what you want all the time?" Vincent teased.

"Look I'm not stupid, okay?" Cyn said, surprising herself with how forceful she was being with Vincent fucking McCabe. "I know I've been given a lot. I know my parents are rich, and I don't know how stuff works. And I know I don't get given stuff here; money's nothing to us. The real stuff is access, power, connections. Robin talks to you and your friends all the time. I want, fuck it I need that if I'm going to be somebody."

"And it didn't occur to you she might have invited you if you'd waited?"

Cyn looked down sheepishly. "I don't know," she shrugged. Her blouse billowed out a bit when she did that, and she knew Vincent could see more cleavage. It was a trick she'd used on hundreds of guys.

"At least you weren't just following her because you're bored," Vincent said. "The truth is, we were going to invite you, maybe in a few weeks, but you forced our hand."

"Why were you going to invite me?"

"You have drive and you're ambitious. It's what were looking for, among other things."

It was subtle, but Cyn knew when a guy checked her out and Vincent just had. He hadn't done it up until then as far as she could tell, but now she was annoyed.

"Oh come on, seriously? It's a sex thing? Robin's blowing you?" Cyn said, sounding disgusted.

Vincent actually looked bemused. "And what if she was? You don't approve?"

"Hey, if she wants to sleep her way to the top that's fine," Cyn said, resisting the urge to follow up by volunteering. "I just...I thought there was more to it."

"There is more to it, but make no mistake, sex is a big part. You said it yourself; everyone here has rich and powerful parents. We all have money to spare. But we don't have any real power. Our parents hold all of that. So what else can we trade?"

"Ugh, such a man," Cyn said. "You think you can make women fuck you to get favors."

"It's slightly more involved than that."

"Oh really?" Cyn said skeptically.

"Really," Vincent countered. Then he pulled something out and put it on the table.

Cyn picked it up and realized it was actually two somethings. Two poker chips, the heavy kind they used at high-end casinos. Each one was a muted yellow with black writing. A fancy number "2" was centered on the disk, with "Kiss" curving around above the number, and Robin's name underlining it. Cyn turned them over but they were the same on each side.

"What are these?"

Vincent took the chips and put them back on the table. "These are leverage. Sexual leverage. It's how we do business. Reputation and our own bodies are all we really control here. Everyone has money, no one has real power yet. That's what we trade in."

"So what do these mean?" Cyn asked.

"I'll show you," Vincent said. He waved behind him. Robin stood and came over to him. "Now?" she asked.

Vincent nodded and handed her the poker chips. Cyn watched, fascinated and not a little jealous, as Robin straddled Vincent in the middle of the library and kissed him like his mouth gave lifesaving nectar. Her hands cupped his head and she pressed against him so hard the chair started to tip. Cyn, sitting right across, saw the skirt Robin wore rode up enough that her ass was visible, and only covered by a thin black thong. They continued for an embarrassingly long time, long enough to get the attention of some other people, who stared with a variety of expressions.

Eventually Cyn heard a phone buzz. Vincent and Robin broke away and Robin straightened with a satisfied and slightly flushed expression. "Much obliged."

"You know I'll have those back from you this weekend," Vincent said.

"Only if your cards hold out," Robin said as she walked back to her table. Vincent turned back and smiled at Cyn, some of Robin's lipstick visible on his teeth.

"I don't get it," Cyn said. "Do you guys play cards? Strip poker?"

"Now who's boring?" Vincent teased. "I paid her her chips back. It's pretty simple really. But you have to be in before you get the details."

"And this...whatever it is, that's why Robin talks to all of you?" Cyn asked.

"It certainly doesn't hurt," Vincent agreed.

"Fine," Cyn said. "So I have to have make out with people?"

"Probably," Vincent agreed.

"I bet I have to blow and fuck them too, right?"

"I know you won't believe me," Vincent said, "but that's up to you."

"Uh huh," Cyn said skeptically, "And other than being a slut what else do I need to do?"

"Give us the account numbers to your trust fund."

"What!?" Cyn almost shouted. Vincent's narrowed at her and Cyn crouched, embarrassed. "What the fuck?"

Vincent shrugged. "Setting a fixed price for this would be silly. It would limit the game and make entry based on wealth, rather than what we're looking for."

"What the fuck is that?"

"Commitment. Your trust account is all your money. Regardless of how much it actually is, it's the only other power we all share equally. Some people have access to more actual money than others, but the access is key. Without it, you're nothing."

"So you take that away? Fuck that!"

"We don't take it away. It's collateral. You still have access to it as long as you follow the rules."

"And how many people do I have to fuck to obey the rules?" Cyn asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Vincent sighed. "Well, I'm sorry we wasted your time," he said as he started to stand.

"Wait, what...please stay," Cyn pleaded.

"Why?"

Because I'd do anything you want if you did, Cyn thought immediately, but she said, "Why are you going?"

"You obviously think we're running some sort of a brothel or just trying to make sex exciting. It's much more involved than that, but you can't seem to get past it," Vincent said.

Cyn felt like she'd been slapped. Vincent wasn't angry, but he sounded annoyed and maybe a little disappointed. She thought she might be kidding herself, but it seemed like he wanted her to understand.

"Just...look you know how all that sounds, right? It's practically a Nigerian prince's email. And we know Nigerian princes."

Cyn's plea actually got Vincent to smile. "I suppose that's a point. Are you saying you're willing to keep an open mind?"

"I...I can give it a shot, if you want me to," she said, trying to force a personal interest from the red-maned Adonis to confirm her fantasies.

"I told you we were going to recruit you anyway," Vincent said. Then his tone turned warning, "You have to take this seriously. We may play a game but we do not play around.

Cyn only nodded in response. Vincent returned her nod once. "The meetings are Fridays into Sundays, as you've figured out. If you're still interested by Friday, tell Robin. You have to submit your account numbers to her before she'll take you. And this is one time only."

Cyn nodded and stood. She held her hand out to him; she just wanted an excuse to touch him. He took her hand and turned it, leaning down as if to kiss it, but then he followed her arm up. His breath raised goosebumps all along her arm and he finished with his head just next to her ear. "See you Friday," he whispered, then turned and left.

Cyn stood for a minute. Her whole body was electric, her nipples were hard, and she was sure she was soaking her panties again. She hadn't moved when Robin came over a minute or two later with a broad, knowing smile.

"I see you got a present?"

"What?" Cyn asked, confused.

Robin gestured to Cyn's chest and she looked down. Nestled between her breasts was another poker chip, but just one. She pulled it out. This one, red with white lettering, had a five in the middle and Vincent's name on the bottom, but curving around the top was the word "oral."

"What does this mean?" she asked, though based on what the words on Robin's chips had said and her roommate's behavior, she had a good idea.

"You'll find out Friday," Robin said.

"How do you know I'm joining?" Cyn challenged.

Robin stepped up very close to Cyn and whispered in the ear Vincent hadn't used. "Because you were ready to bend over for Vincent in front of the library and he just set your cunt on fire," Robin said. "You'd be in on this even if he'd told you you have to stay handcuffed with your ass in the air for him all weekend."

As Robin backed off, Cyn felt flushed. Robin smiled at her. "I have some things to take care of," she told Cyn, "Why don't you head back to the room?"

Robin called over her shoulder as she walked off, "I'll probably be away for an hour or two."

*****

Cyn practically broke the door open and then slammed it closed. She almost tore her shirt getting it off, and the underwire of her bra definitely dug in when she flipped it up and grabbed her breasts. Vincent's words, and the teasing finish to their meeting, had left her horny enough to fuck almost anything. She'd seriously considered dragging a random guy off the road to fuck, but the unwritten social rules of the school said that was behavior only low-class sluts did, unless it was the middle of a party.

Vincent's face was flashing through her mind as she kneaded her mounds and pinched her nipples, imaging a hundred different ways his mouth could have gone if it hadn't stopped at her ears. She imagined him kissing down her jaw as she traced her own hand there, and then his head would move to the breasts she was abusing herself.

She wondered if he would be forceful and quick like Vicky's conquest last night, but she imagined him as a sly, teasing lover. While he attended to her breasts, his hand would snake down into her pants. She had her own hand help in maintaining her fantasy, undoing the one button and sliding down until her fingers found her slit. She curled her finger up inside, trying to rub her inner tunnel without hammering her clit. She could come very quickly playing with her own clit, but she wanted this to last; she knew Vincent would make it last.

Her two middle fingers plunged in and she felt like she gave herself a mini-orgasm as her palm hit her clit in her frantic movements. Her pants were down around her thighs now, and in her head Vincent had done it to get better access and to admire her shaved pussy while he continued to worship her breasts. Cyn finally imagined he'd let her come, but a quick one, not a finishing touch. She flicked her clit with her fingers, lightning fast.

A quick spark and a rush shot through her as the orgasm hit. It was a precursor, though. She came, but she could come more, and harder, if she tried. Somehow, Vincent would know this and would give Cyn the relief only because he knew it would also work her need higher.

She almost killed the mood for herself when she realized her fantasy would have her suck his cock next. Of course, she didn't have one to hand, but then she remembered her roommate did. Cyn almost knocked herself out scrambling under the bed for the box she found. She pulled out the dildo she'd found the other night. It was purple and still attached to the strap-on harness, but it was formed like a cock and good enough for her just then. She put it in her mouth, shocked by the unfamiliar feel and taste. She'd used dildoes before, but not ones with realistic formation and definitely not in her mouth; she'd never seen the point until now.

She sucked on it for a minute while imagining Vincent's expression of gratitude and pleasure, but soon her imaginary lover pushed her head back and went for the real prize.

Cyn rubbed the dildo along her clit as she moved it down to her vagina, nearly cumming again from the friction. It didn't slide in easily; she hadn't used any lube, but in her head Vincent's massive girth was straining her hole as he worked himself inside her. When it finally broke through, she sank it to the hilt, welcoming the sudden pressure and faint pain. She then built up a slow rhythm with one hand, imagining the Irishman working her up gradually as he continued to fondle her tits. As the toy plunged in and out, Cyn started to grunt and moan Vincent's name, her eyes now closed and completely given over to the fantasy of him pounding into her.

By the end, her hand was a blur, her hips were thrusting off the bed, and her nipple was nearly bleeding from the pressure. She felt the orgasm coming and flipped over; some part of her brain still remembered there were other people in the dorm. On her knees with her ass in the air, imagining Vincent pounding into her doggy style, the dildo sank into her sodden pussy as deep as she could push it, her orgasm triggering on impact. Cyn screamed into the pillow and flopped down on her bed. She thought she would just take a minute to recover, but she ended up drifting off.

When Cyn woke, the first thing she saw was a smirking Robin sitting on the edge of her own bed.

"Good thing we didn't bother doing the laundry earlier."

Cyn jumped to cover herself but felt the weight of a blanket over her body. Robin laughed. "As hot as you are with your clothes all undone, I didn't want to scramble in case someone came by. I did take my toy back, though. Fortunately it wasn't wedged anywhere awkward."

"Sorry," Cyn said, blushing.

"Don't be. I knew exactly what you were going to do when you came back here. Why do you think I went off somewhere else?"

"You could have had the room," Cyn insisted.

"Decided to call in a favor, instead," Robin answered.

Cyn thought for a moment. "Did that favor involve some poker chips?"

Robin smiled and waved her finger, "No hints from me you little sneak. Come on, fix your clothes and we'll do laundry."

Cyn righted her clothes so she was decent and stood. As she turned to gather her sheets, Robin came up behind her and said quietly, "if you play your cards right, maybe next time I'll follow you back here."