The Spa Game – Interlude – Kathy’s Chips

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This story is tangential to my series “The Spa Game.” While there are some character and context clues in the story, it does not stand alone well. Those who haven’t read my series will probably get lost easily.

For those who have read the series, this story answers a common request I got; what happened to Kathy after the climactic poker game in Chapter 15?

This chapter is a bit different in tone than a lot of the others in the series because of the events and characters involved. I’d advise checking the tags if you’re concerned.

It also focuses a bit more on fleshing out some of the characters; while there is action here, it is not the primary focus.


Vincent McCabe walked sedately into the room on the second floor of the spa’s house. It was one of the smaller bedrooms; it only housed a double bed and a single bureau with a solitary plush chair off in one corner. People usually only used it if they were very comfortable with their partner or expected them to leave as soon as the favor was completed.

Given the players in this particular scenario, Vincent seriously doubted anyone would be cuddling by the end of it. If anyone was still in the room more than fifteen minutes after everything was done, he’d donate a chip.

He was trying to maintain neutrality. He’d long ago schooled his expressions to the point where most people didn’t know what he was thinking unless he told them. Ironically, he’d learned it by playing poker. His etiquette teacher was somewhat unorthodox and fortunately his parents were progressively minded, so they didn’t object at all to him using poker to simultaneously teach lessons in controlling emotions, controlling expressions, planning strategy, and, if nothing else, how to play poker. What Vincent struggled with was keeping his mental neutrality. Cynthia Towers, known to most as Cyn, had just pulled off a masterful coup at the poker table, and he was fairly sure only she and he knew it had been a stroke of blind luck. That was not to discount her achievement; she’d been working toward this for several weeks, but given her performance at the table he’d guessed her end game would have to wait another week. Landing a royal straight flush in a high-pot hand had jumped up her timetable.

The results of which were standing in the room with him. Or half the results anyway.

Steven Masters was a short man, not even five and a half feet, and thin. He was often ignored and passed over by everyone else at the spa, except for being the subject of gossip. His small frame wasn’t ugly, but he had the confidence of a sex trafficker at a gala for women police officers. Merely saying hello often caused him to flinch. His one asset, both a blessing and a curse in this instance, was his genitals. Steve had an absolutely enormous cock. Vincent hadn’t measured it, but some of his female associates claimed he measured at ten inches and had comparable girth.

Vincent knew, and everyone else had found out, that Cynthia’s real target in her machinations had been her roommate Robin Carmichael, someone whom Vincent spent a lot of time with. But as a sort of side bet, she’d also arranged for Steve to come into enough poker chips to claim a favor from the infamous Kathy; a haughty member of the spa who exercised her sadism every time she cashed in a favor and cared nothing for her partner’s pleasure unless she got something out of it at the same time. She was also a skilled poker player, so many other members of the spa had little chance of enacting revenge on her unless she had a really bad night, and even the few who’d managed to secure a favor from her couldn’t prevent her from maintaining her attitude or talking. Many had cashed in a favor with her hoping to get the upper hand only to have her verbally cut them down and spoil the experience.

However, thanks to Ms. Towers, Steve had enough chips to claim an inarguable favor; a minimum of 25 minutes of anything up to anal sex. Given the guy’s demeanor, Vincent guessed he’d only be able to work up the nerve to go right to the main event. Assuming Kathy let him get there, which is why Vincent was in the room.

Steve was in a bathrobe when Vincent entered and he actually cowered as Vincent came in. “Sorry about this,” he said.

“What’s the problem Steve?” Vincent asked, “You’re not trying to take my ass.”

“I know but…I know how Kathy can be and she’ll probably take it out on both of us. I wouldn’t have asked for you but Cyn suggested it-”

“And it was a good idea,” Vincent said, “Otherwise she’d probably try her hardest to dodge out of this.”

Steve could have sat down but he seemed more comfortable (or, at least, less uncomfortable) standing. Vincent took the plush seat without bothering to ask; he rarely bothered with pointless courtesy if he could help it, and it was clear the young man wasn’t going to sit. He didn’t bother trying to make small talk either and pulled out his phone to subtly signal to the other man he was fine with the silence.

They Isparta Escort didn’t have to wait long for Kathy to arrive. As Vincent expected, she tried to make an imperious entrance. She wore a shimmering sleeveless emerald green dress with a low neck, clearly displaying that she had no bra on and, Vincent suspected, no underwear. Her figure looked attractive in most clothing and Kathy made fashionable choices that enhanced her look. Despite not being tight, the dress still billowed out around her breasts, though less so than some of the other women at the spa. It also bulged slightly around the curves of her hips and backside.

“Hello Steve, hello Vincent. Shall we get this over with?” Kathy said distainfully.

“Kathy,” Vincent said in a warning tone.

“I have to submit to this, I don’t have to enjoy it,” Kathy said.

“I’m the ultimate judge of whether you followed the intent of the favor,” Vincent countered, “And I promise you if you try to browbeat him into sitting in a corner for the entire time while you do your nails your expense account will have a hole in it wider than anything you’d get tonight.”

Vincent kept his voice steady and unwavering and he could see a flash of fear in Kathy’s eyes.

The staredown was broken by Steve’s somewhat stammering voice saying, “If…I mean, I traded for a lot of those chips, so if-“

“Steve,” Vincent interrupted, “How often do you actually get to have sex here?”

“Not…not a lot.”

“And how often do you have the chips to cash in a full set of grass?” Vincent asked, using the nickname for the green-colored chips that secured this favor.

Steve’s face fell. “I’m not that good a player,” he admitted.

“So you’re telling me you’d rather give up the opportunity here with Kathy? Remembering I’m here to make sure everything is in the spirit of the spa?”

Vincent could see in Steve’s eyes that he desperately wanted to do this. There was a slight bulge against his robe betraying that his body was already sold on the idea. But there was also fear in his eyes, and Kathy was too frightening a figure. Vincent would have to take a more direct role.

“Kathy, take off your dress.”

Kathy looked like she was going to object, but Vincent fixed her with a glare. In an almost defiant manner, Kathy reached up, lifted the shoulder straps of her gown to either side, and let it drop. It was loose enough that it fell straight to the floor, baring her nude figure for both men.

As Vincent knew, Kathy’s body was toned and athletic, but her muscle definition didn’t overwhelm her body shape. She still had smooth, curving skin up and down her body, with her muscles only showing when she turned or flexed to use them. Her backside was well formed and round with barely any fold at the bottom, and her breasts were large to medium but seemed to be teetering on the edge between retroussé and sagging. Based on what he knew of the female form, Vincent guessed that years ago Kathy probably had a slightly thicker frame and then aggressively dropped some weight that hit her figure harder than she intended. Still, despite not achieving model perfection, she was more than attractive.

Steve certainly seemed to agree, his entire attention now fixed on Kathy’s nude form. Still, Vincent had to wonder if he had critiques; Cyn had been treating him to the sight of her body on a semi-regular basis. Word spread like wildfire that the freshman prodigy didn’t flinch and in fact occasionally welcomed an assignation with Steve’s above-average equipment, and that girl had a body straight out of a Playboy shoot.

Kathy turned and Vincent could see her ass was glistening. However, he doubted any moisture had gotten there because of arousal. He peeked over at Steve and saw his cock was now splitting the bathrobe, but the guy was paralyzed with indecision. Fortunately Vincent had expected this and, taking pity on both parties, he’d found the largest possible container of lube he could.

“Kathy, would you come here for a second?” he asked.

“You’re an observer, I don’t have to-” she began, then cut off when he held up the bottle.

“Unless you want to trust your preparations were enough and he can just go dry?”

Kathy walked over, practically stomping, and grabbed the bottle before moving over to Steve. Vincent saw her pause and almost smirked. She clearly didn’t want to kneel, but Steve was too short for her to reach his member while she stood, since she was nearly six feet tall, and bending over would be awkward. She finally knelt with a long-suffering sigh, squeezed a generous amount of lube into her hand, and then began coating Steve’s shaft.

The physical touching was enough for Steve’s instincts to override his anxiety; a beautiful woman was rubbing his cock and his body knew exactly how to deal with that. Soon his member grew to its impressive and imposing full size.

“Holy fuck,” Kathy muttered, Vincent just barely able to hear it. While Kathy had often dragged Steve into situations where he’d been coerced Isparta Escort Bayan into using his cock on another woman, Vincent guessed it had been some time since Kathy experienced it that close up.

Steve finally spoke up. “I…you should slow down,” he said.

Vincent saw another pause from Kathy and glared, which Kathy saw right away. He knew what she thought; if she jerked him off, it’s very possible he wouldn’t recover before their 25 minutes were up, and Vincent doubted Steve would protest her use of a loophole, but since Vincent was there, he could bring the objection.

Kathy relented, opting to get the experience over with as quickly as possible. She got up and went to the bed, crawling onto it and gathering pillows to her, then backing herself up to the edge. She set herself in doggie style with her ass on full display, but didn’t say anything. Steve didn’t need any verbal encouragement, however. He walked over to her, albeit slowly, and spent some time lining himself up.

“It’s in your best interests to bear down hard, Kathy,” Vincent said.

He expected some sort of retort, event though his intent was to be helpful; among spa veterans, it was well known Kathy didn’t enjoy anal play, so it was possible she was unaware of the various strategies for easing the experience. But Kathy had buried her head between some pillows and had her arms wrapped around them, pressing them into either side of her face, so if there was a response, it was inaudible. Steve made his first move then, pushing forward. He stopped almost immediately, but Kathy’s breathing went from silent to panicked panting right away. After a short pause Vincent saw Steve move again and this time there was a shriek and Kathy jerked away.

Everyone stopped, but after breathing for a moment Kathy pushed herself back into position and Steve slowly started penetrating again. He regained his last marker quickly and kept going.

Vincent watched, and for the next ten minutes Steve fed his enormous cock into Kathy’s ass. After only a few itches, Kathy was barely articulate. Grunting, panting, and moaning could be heard through the muffling pillows but they weren’t the sounds of someone enjoying a sexual romp; they were the exclamations of someone enduring an ordeal. Soon Steve had enough purchase to begin actual thrusting. He sawed in and out of her asshole in short strokes, but the process widened Kathy further, letting him penetrate even deeper. Eventually Steve thrust forward and Kathy let out a long, pleading cry through clenched teeth. One of her hands shot back and pressed on Steve’s hip. He wasn’t flush with her ass, but everyone understood that wasn’t going to happen; he’d reached Kathy’s limit.

He repositioned his feet and then the real action began. He started sawing into her, pistoning his impressive cock into Kathy’s ass with abandon. While he didn’t hurt her, it was clear that apart from her hard limit he was too lost in the sensations to accept feedback.

Despite still having her head buried in the pillows, Vincent could hear Kathy’s diatribe about the event clearly.

“Fuck you…fucker! How can you not have cum? Fuck! I’m fucking full of you, you should have blown your load in my ass already!”

“You’re here for another ten minutes Kathy,” Vincent eventually said, “I’d suggest you get yourself off if Steve’s not.”

“Fuck you…fuck…he’s going faster oh God oh God don’t go deep don’t go deep ahhhh!”

Vincent saw Steve slow down for a few strokes and even pause, but he started right back up despite protests from Kathy that he’d already cum. Vincent did notice some frothing, suggesting Steve was currently fucking his own sloppy seconds. Vincent could recall times when he’d cum but still maintained a bit of a hard on and was able to continue despite the orgasm. In Steve’s case, “a bit of a hard on” would still be more than enough to overfill most women.

When it was clear Steve was not about to stop, Vincent did see one of Kathy’s hands frantically begin rubbing her own pussy. Her fingers were a blur, obviously desperate to mix some sort of sexual pleasure into the onslaught from the well-endowed young man. Her words deserted her, only moans and sobs coming from the pillows now.

“Three minutes you two,” Vincent said, “If you’ve got another orgasm in you, Steve…”

Vincent trailed off but Steve didn’t need more encouragement. He began thrusting faster and shortening his strokes, then arched his back and cried out, obviously dumping another load of sperm into Kathy’s ass. Despite the sounds and protests, he also noticed Kathy’s back arch and her body shudder, very possibly a sign of her own orgasm.

Steve stumbled back, pulling his robe closed while in a bit of a daze. Vincent stood and helped guide him to the door. He guessed the guy wanted to retreat to the study room that was his sort of sanctuary in the house and saw no reason to detain him, but he did hand the guy a packet of moist wipes and reminded him to clean up. Once out of the door, he turned to the bed. Escort Isparta

Kathy’s asshole was a gaping red maw, even now only slightly constricted from the full spreading it suffered from Steve’s cock. What he could see of her pussy was also red, probably from the frantic rubbing she’d done toward the end. Vincent went over to the bed, up to where Kathy’s head was still buried in the pillows, and gently touched her arm. She reached out and grabbed his forearm hard, but loosened her grip a bit when Vincent merely stood by for support and helped her off the bed. She said nothing and made no sounds, apart from an intake of breath as her legs came together. The room had an attached bathroom with a shower stall and he guided her over to it, though he didn’t follow her in.

Several minutes later, after hearing several toilet flushes and shower water running, the door opened and Kathy emerged, having mostly recovered her imperious bearing.

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Kathy said, “I know you don’t have any of my chips.”

“Observers ensure the compliance and well being of everyone involved in a favor.”

“Oh don’t give me that letter of the law shit,” Kathy said as she went to retrieve her dress, “You’re a fucking hypocrite of the highest order! You string all those girls along with your purist approach, not fondling any of them beyond exactly sixty seconds and breaking off every kiss after exactly two minutes. Yet you come in here as an observer and coach that fucking horse-cock pussy on how to ream my ass!”

“Did you miss the part about compliance?” Vincent said steadily.

“If someone’s not able to perform that doesn’t count as non-compliance unless both of them say it does. You and I both know that anxiety-ridden child wouldn’t have gone near me, but then you decide to do everything short of holding his hips and thrusting for him.”

“We’ve warned you about inappropriate intimidation before,” Vincent said.

“Oh fuck off. You think I don’t know that I’d be laughed out of the house if I tried to object? Your bitch Cyn made sure everyone saw the big spectacle when I literally got my ass handed to me. Well I’m done being nice. I can outplay everyone at that table, and even you have bad days. Cyn’s fifteen minutes are up, and that fucking suit of hers is going to be soaked in the piss and shit I’ll fuck out of her. As for your little girlfriend Robin, my fist will be in her ass so much she’ll think she’s a puppet. While I’m at it, I think we’ll see how much Bill likes it when I make Sylvia cry-”

The click of the door lock didn’t sound like it should have silenced Kathy’s rant, but it did. Her head snapped around and she saw Vincent standing at the door, his hand hovering over the door lock. Vincent had his hands folded behind his back and he stood straight, almost at military attention. He only had a couple of inches on Kathy, but the look of panic on Kathy’s face said his posture had the intended effect.

“Do you know why I think stories of Dracula and vampires like him both fascinate and scare women so much?” Vincent asked as he slowly started to advance on her.

“What are-”

“Most people say it’s rape fantasy,” Vincent said, cutting her off, “but that’s too simple. ‘Most women have rape fantasies’ people say, ‘Dracula’s the ultimate rapist, QED.’ But that’s not it. It’s submission. They don’t want their will suppressed, they don’t want someone to overpower them them, they want their will taken away, and they want to enjoy it. Dracula gives them the ultimate out. He magically makes them incapable of objecting to whatever he wants, and he’s attractive enough that in the end, it wasn’t really that big of a sacrifice, was it? Rather than trying to dismiss or suppress the violation, those women are convinced they enjoyed the violation, and long for it to happen again.”

“If you’re trying to say I enjoyed this-”

Vincent got right up in Kathy’s face and hissed viciously, “I’m. Talking.”

Kathy cowered, wide eyed. Vincent looked at her intently, slowly backing himself off of hovering over her. “I have Dracula’s power,” he finally said.

Kathy looked at him so incredulously that Vincent chuckled. “Oh don’t worry, I’m not delusional,” he said, “But I may as well be him. Do you think I’m ignorant of my effect on women? At fifteen I had my family’s genes, world class chefs, a personal trainer, and I’d been taught etiquette and manners since I was three. And my parents didn’t have any problem with my teachers explaining to me exactly the effect I could have on women. Once I hit puberty it was painfully obvious what I could do.”

“I’ve got money and enough prestige to be recognizable without being mobbed by news and paparazzi. Even marginally attractive men in that position have groupies. But I also possess confidence, classical looks, and style. Assuming they’re anywhere above zero and below six on the Kinsey scale, women find me fascinating at the least. When I focus all of my attention on a woman it may as well be a magical effect. I’ve had sex with multiple lesbians who’ve literally told me they never wanted to have sex with men ever again, but they just had to try me out. I’ve gotten sisters, straight full blood relative sisters, to eat each other out just by promising I’d fuck them while they did it. I kept that going for a week.”

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