The Spa Game – Year Two Ch. 01

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Hello followers and new readers.

My last series was a fairly significant departure from my first offering but now I’m returning to that “universe” as it were. Hopefully those of you who were disinterested or put off by the extremes of that series will like this one better.

For new readers, this is a continuation of my first series “The Spa Game”. I’ve tried to put in helper notes that outline some of the current and historical relationships between the characters. Hopefully I’ve achieved a balance that lets new readers figure out what’s going on without having to read the previous series, without so much infodumping that returning readers are annoyed. All that said, if you want a fuller understanding of the history of some of the characters I recommend you read the other series first.

This will be a long-form series and sometimes it takes a bit to get to the “good stuff” but there’s at least some of it in every chapter, and the chapters aren’t oppressively long. Also, I try to choose the most applicable category for each story, but there are elements of many different interests in many chapters. I recommend those interested in finding or avoiding specific topics check the tags on the stories. That said, I don’t believe anything is or will be too extreme.

I hope everyone enjoys this. Ratings and particularly comments are appreciated.

Prologue: Recruitment Meeting

Cynthia Towers mused that the house she sat in probably hadn’t had this many people sitting in its actual sitting room in quite a while.

The house was technically owned by the tall, amazingly well-built red-haired Irishman standing at the end of the table flicking his finger across a propped tablet, but that was largely a formality. In reality the house was used by the Spa, the secret group established by the highly elite and obscenely wealthy students at The Veretrum Institute. It was invite only and had very particular interests.

Usually they held meetings from Friday evenings to Sunday mornings on weekends school was in session, but this being the first weekend of a new year things were different; the meeting hadn’t occurred until Saturday morning, no card games were occurring, no betting took place, and every bedroom and plush piece of furniture was safe from any sort of defilement or abuse.

Unless someone spills some red wine Cynthia thought.

The group attending this meeting was also smaller than usual for a few reasons. First of all, given it was the start of a new year all of their previous members who graduated were no longer eligible to attend, something that was generally a mixed blessing; certain members were always missed but some breathed sighs of relief when certain members aged out. The second reason was the meeting was a recruitment meeting and despite all current members being eligible to vote, some members either had no candidates to put forward or no interest in deciding on the membership.

Vincent McCabe, the aforementioned Irishman, led the meeting because, though the club had no real hierarchy everyone in the room deferred to him most of the time; apart from his intense personality and charisma, he was literally royalty.

“So our graduates from last year were Purna, Susan, Bill, and Carl,” Vincent said.

“Purna’s a loss,” Charles said from his chair halfway down the table. Charles wasn’t terribly popular but he didn’t cause trouble; he just consistently had a higher opinion of his abilities than his performance could back up, in many aspects of his life.

“I’ll miss them all,” said Amy, a somewhat flighty girl who occasionally worried Cynthia; she often seemed out of it and unconcerned with her own well being and safety.

“Susan barely ever showed up, and when she did all she usually did was play, Carl and I didn’t have anything the other wanted, and Bill just kept Sylvia on his leash all the time, though now Cyn’s stepped in to fill that role, apparently,” Charles said, using Cynthia’s more well-known nickname.

“I’m maintaining the same arrangement Bill did. It’ll probably be even less noticeable here; we’re setting very clear boundaries and our spa activities will be even more distinct from our personal ones than she and Bill maintained,” Cyn said.

“We also had a withdrawal by Kathy,” Vincent said.

That announcement imposed an uncomfortable silence among the crowd. Kathy had been an aggressive, nearly abusive member of the group, but halfway through the previous year after Cyn had maneuvered her into a very compromising position, she’d vanished from their group. Many people assumed there’d been some sort of confrontation with Vincent, but he’d said nothing either way.

“We’re now taking nominations for new members. We can fill at most five slots,” Vincent said.

Cyn paid attention to the nominations but didn’t have much of an opinion on most of them. Charles nominated a guy named Ammad Bashir who Carl claimed was attractive, discreet, and bisexual. He’d overemphasized bahis firmaları the last point, which didn’t win him points with the crowd (Carl had often been accused of offensive hypocrisy as he’d shown interest in lesbian pairings while almost obsessively avoiding gay ones), but Zach, a rather flamboyant and exuberant senior member, backed up the nomination. Noelle, a very short, small Asian girl with a bubbly personality and an un-ignorably large chest, nominated a girl named Kim Tanaka and gave few details, other than saying she’d “more than make up for anyone we lost.”

“Standard one month waiting period would apply,” Vincent said.

Noelle nodded. Sylvia, a waif thin, short, senior girl sitting next to Cyn with a decorative metal choker on, leaned over when Cyn beckoned and explained that Freshman nominees weren’t approached for at least a month to allow them to acclimate to the school and to allow other members to observe them, since they wouldn’t be known on campus.

Another name was brought up by Zach during that explanation that Cyn didn’t hear, but then Cyn’s attention was grabbed when Sylvia said, “Victoria Sylva.”

“What?” Cyn said, turning to look at her friend and roommate in disbelief.

“You want to object, Cyn?” Vincent said.

“Yes,” Cyn snapped immediately.

“On what grounds?” Vincent said.

Cyn paused as she realized she didn’t have any solid ones, but she spoke to buy herself some time. “Vicky’s my best friend, or at least she was before I joined the spa and we sort of drifted apart.”

“So you think your friend’s going to be mad? That’s it?” Noelle asked.

Cyn wracked her brain for legitimate objections and landed on one she’d thought of a long time ago. “The girl is horrible at keeping secrets. She treats confidential information like gossip. Some of it is inexperience but a lot of the time she doesn’t care. She’ll be talking about her weekends with us before her creative writing class every week.”

“I’m sure when she figures out we can drain her trust fund that’ll encourage discretion,” Zach said.

“She doesn’t have one!” Cyn exclaimed, sounding a little too excited but she’d only just remembered it, and it was a legitimate issue.

“Explain?” Vincent said.

“Her father got rich three years ago selling his tech company; they’re practically brand new money,” Cyn explained, “He’s still got a middle class mindset; if Vicky needs something she can ask him for the money and he’ll send it to her, but any other money she has to make herself. She doesn’t have a trust fund, or at least not one she has access to. The best she’d be able to do is give us a checking account or something and there’s probably barely a few hundred dollars in there.”

“How does she even afford clothes?” Charles asked with a bit of scorn.

“I bought her a lot of her wardrobe Freshman year,” Cyn admitted.

“How strongly do you feel about this, Sylvia?” Vincent asked.

“I really think she’d be a good fit,” Sylvia said, “And I think she’d shake things up.”

“Is she any good at poker?” Zach asked, “Because watching the red queen and the Asian pixie basically decide how every hand was going to go last semester got old fast.”

“Sylvia can hold her own at the table,” Cyn said.

“And if she and Bill hadn’t missed every other weekend to play house that would have mattered,” Zach countered, “I mean, you two are adorable and I wish you the best of luck but take pity on the rest of us, can’t you?”

Sylvia tried to maintain composure but her skin was so pale that every blush was obvious. “I’ll be around. And Vincent can’t be banker again, so he’ll be back at the table remember.”

“As if he wasn’t the mastermind of them all,” Noelle quipped.

Vincent himself only smirked in response, but Cyn briefly saw a curious twinkle in his eyes. “We could work around the lack of a trust fund, but given Cyn’s hesitation my inclination is to put her on the alternate list,” he said to Sylvia, “She’ll still be eligible until after the Freshman waiting period.”

Sylvia nodded and sat back, but looked at Cyn with a disappointed expression.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Cyn said.

“I want to actually talk about it, Cyn. I didn’t bring it up just for this,” Sylvia said, tapping her choker.

“Okay,” Cyn said, though she was still somewhat confused. But she found herself refocusing on the meeting.

“We need a banker for this semester. As mentioned, I’m ineligible due to serving in that capacity last year,” Vincent said.

“Noelle?” Zach suggested.

“Hell no,” she said, “I come here to play, not count.”

“I’m rubbish with numbers,” Zach said, “I’d call a pot at 100 and put four greens on the table.”

Everyone turned and looked at Zach in confusion, but Zach replied with a cocksure grin that had everyone rolling their eyes.

“I’ll do it,” Cyn said.

Most of the room turned to look at her in surprise, and Cyn felt a little surprised kaçak iddaa herself, but when Vincent called for objections there weren’t any.

“Well,” Zach mused, “there goes any chance that someone would keep Vincent in check.”

“Just make sure to find a way to get me some of Steve’s chips,” Cyn said to the room, “Otherwise the poor boy’ll be devastated.”

Chapter 1

Vicky nearly dug her nails through her palm making a fist while dampening down her gag reflex. She’d just pushed the head of her boyfriend’s cock down her actual throat for the first time and desperately didn’t want to vomit on it. It had nothing to do with her feelings about him, which right now were best described as “tumultuous,” and much more to do with not wanting to deal with cleaning up the mess on her bed.

Not that her sheets were likely to stay very clean in the immediate future.

Lawrence was cut and his spongy head acted like a plug for her throat; she could feel the hardness of his shaft blocking her airway completely. She pulled back and exhaled with her mouth open, just enough to get a small breath before diving back in. She was going for that pornstar gulping/choke sound but didn’t know how to make it. She hoped her efforts were close enough.

After coming far too close to vomiting she gave up on the performance deep throating and wrapped her lips solidly around the shaft to give a more traditional blowjob while she looked up teasingly at Lawrence. He was dark-skinned and decently built. As a meme she saw once put it, “he worked out, but he definitely didn’t turn down food or beer when it was around.” His body and his cock had been and still were enough for Vicky, even if her personal hope for some sort of prize in his pants hadn’t borne out.

She started swirling her tongue around his head as her lips and fingers glided up and down his shaft. He was reclined back on her bed, propped up on his elbows watching her suck him off and based on his breathing enjoying himself. Vicky used her free hand to cup and gently massage his balls and felt him swell a bit in her mouth. She kept up her attention for another few moments, then got up.

Lawrence looked like he was going to object until Vicky pulled her tank top up and revealed her breasts. Her large B to small C cup chest made finding a bra tricky, but they were within the size range where the tanks with built-in bras still worked for her. She spun around and pulled her pants off next, doing so with her knees locked to fully present her ass. She grinned to herself when Lawrence got up and pressed against her, his cock resting in the crack of her ass as he bent forward to cup her breasts. He liked squeezing them and Vicky appreciated the attention, but she knew Lawrence was first and foremost an ass man.

She didn’t want him to get ideas though, so she reached between her legs to find his wet shaft and lined it up with her pussy. It wasn’t the best angle for him, but he slid in. She wasn’t completely wet, so it took a few thrusts, but the near misses rubbed and pulled her clit nicely before the delicious feeling of her pussy spreading for him overtook it. He slowly began thrusting in and out until he had full freedom of movement, then he grabbed her hips and spun them around.

Vicky crawled onto the bed without breaking contact and arched her ass into the air, bracing herself for a nice doggy-style pounding. Lawrence soon delivered, his pace and force increasing as he lost himself in the feeling of her pussy around his cock. His hands gripped and kneaded her ass cheeks the entire time, partially out of worship and partially to give him leverage while he continued to pound her.

Vicky liked it a little rough and might have preferred he go harder, but his cock was rubbing enough of her pussy and his balls slapped into her clit to the point that it was good enough. She reached up and pinched her nipple with one hand, still bracing with the other, and that was enough to do it for her. It wasn’t a huge orgasm and she doubted Lawrence even noticed, but it took the edge off for her and let her simply enjoy the remainder of Lawrence’s thrusting until he slammed himself inside her with the kind of thrust she’d have preferred the whole time. She felt the pulsing of his dick emptying itself into her and his breathing returning to a winded but more normal pace.

She quickly rolled off the bed and grabbed her panties and shirt, pulling them back on and gathering stuff for the shower. “Thanks babe,” she said.

“Oh shit,” Lawrence said as he sat up, “I forgot about-“

“The condom, yeah. Calm down; I’m on the pill and I didn’t fuck around on you over the summer. As long as your girlfriend’s clean we’re good.”

Lawrence looked dumbfounded and Vicky almost laughed, but she couldn’t bring up that amount of mirth right then.

“Um…what…Vicky-“

“Look, you came here to break up with me, right?” Vicky said rhetorically.

“Well…I didn’t want it to go kaçak bahis down like this.”

Vicky raised an eyebrow at him and Vincent glanced down embarrassed as he realized the turn of phrase he used.

“You think inviting me out tonight for dinner at the caf, then pulling me aside and giving me a comforting talk would have been better?” she asked, “Did you not enjoy the sex? Because I’ve got some stuff between my legs that says you did.”

“This…is not how I pictured this going.” Lawrence said.

“I know. But I could tell when I invited you over.”

“How?” Lawrence asked.

“You came over,” Vicky said, “When we were going out you always said I should go wherever you were. You wanted to show me off, you wanted to prove I could hang with all of your rich friends, get them to like me, or at least make them get used to me. Now I’m the side piece, so you sneak off to my room instead.”

“That’s not it at all!” Lawrence insisted.

“It is,” Vicky countered, “I’m not saying you did it on purpose or planned it out like that; you’re not a psychopath or an asshole. But subconsciously? Probably. It’s okay; I get it. I hope whoever you or your parents found is very good to you. And has a nice ass.”

“She,” Lawrence started replying automatically and caught himself, then deflated when he seemed to realize there was no point, “She’s no slouch back there.”

“There you go,” Vicky said, “I’m going to grab a shower. I’ll see you around.”

Vicky walked out of her dorm room and down the hall. Being a private institution catering to the elite, Veretrum didn’t feature blocky dorm buildings with utilitarian rooms; each dorm building was no bigger than a large suburban house, and student rooms were the size of master bedrooms for double occupancies, or more like traditional bedrooms for a single.

More importantly for most, they didn’t feature large block shower stalls with plastic curtains in them. While there were no bathtubs available, each shower was in a separate room and featured not only a sliding glass door for the shower itself, but a solid wooden door to close off the room. Vicky went for one at the back of the bathroom complex (her word for it) and closed both doors. She stripped off her clothes again and flipped on the hot water. Another benefit to the smaller dorms and higher budgets was a healthy supply of hot water; unless all the occupants of a house decided to take half hour showers at the same time, there was little danger of running out and the water could even get uncomfortably hot.

Vicky let the water reach the point where she idly wondered if she was being burned by it before she dropped to the shower floor and let herself cry.

* * * * * *

Cyn was in her own shower but in a very different position.

She had herself braced against the shower wall, enjoying the sensation of the cold tile against the warmed, wet skin of her breasts and nipples. Her back was arched and she had her hand entwined in the short, curly blonde hair of Sylvia. The shorter, waif thin girl was behind Cyn on her knees with her tongue writhing around inside Cyn’s ass. Cyn was panting with pleasure as she clenched and unclenched around the invading tongue as it stimulated all of the nerve endings around her hole.

Meanwhile, Syl used her hand to pump two fingers in and out of Cyn’s pussy, and had positioned one of them so it brushed her clit each time she pushed in. The triple stimulation of her ass, G-spot, and clit were sending Cyn into orbit quickly.

Cyn felt the pressure building in her pussy and started rocking a bit. “More pet. Give your mistress more and make me cum. Make me cum with your tongue buried in my ass!”

Cyn felt her hole pushed slightly wider as Syl gave up creative licking and simply shoved her tongue as deep as possible into her mistress’ asshole while greatly speeding up the fingerbanging. Cyn almost knocked herself out on the wall as she convulsed with an orgasm and she probably nearly suffocated poor Syl as she pulled the girl’s head hard into her ass. She released it as soon as the biggest part of her climax passed and leaned against the shower. Syl sat back against the other wall, putting her in the spray-less zone of the shower. Once she composed herself, Cyn stepped forward and stood under the spray to rinse herself off, then turned the water off and walked out without looking at the girl who’d just gotten her off.

Ten or so minutes later, Cyn wore a thick blood red bathrobe as she lounged in a recliner in their apartment’s living room.

Technically it wasn’t an apartment in the strictest sense; it was still Veretrum property, it was only available to students, and it didn’t require any extra investment beyond student’s tuition (which would have purchased an entire block of apartments in some cities). They were available on special request for groups of three or more students who wanted to live together, and there was usually a waitlist. Fortunately Sylvia Tentis’s family had influence and, she being a senior, she had slightly higher priority than most so she, Cyn, and Robin Carmichael all lived together that year in their…interesting arrangement that centered on Cyn.

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