Chapter 30 - Rope

"Just what in the Sam Hill did you get up to, boy? Your mother has been in a state and half," roared the elder Stone.

Richard looked up from his drafting tabling. His father had barged into his office, which was highly unusual as he never bothered to seek Richard out all the way down on the production floor. "Oh, you know, my usual shenanigans," he blithely replied.

"What do you mean by that! I'd half expect this from your brother, especially the part about the girl, but you?! You're the good one! What has gotten into you?!"

"I'm the good one? You've never said that before," Richard said softly and laid his pencil down on the table next to him.

His father eyed him suspiciously. "What has gotten into you?"

A sea slug that may end my life at any moment. "I will call Mom later this evening and apologize for my behavior," Richard succinctly said.

His father crossed his arms. "Are you going to leave your wife?"

"Most certainly."

"For your maid," there was incredulousness in this accusation.

"Yes. She's not my maid anymore though if that makes it more palatable for you." He had formally terminated Lupe that morning over the telephone. He hadn't seen her since he left the security station earlier that morning. He wasn't going to meet her at Rollie's either, as he was being followed by photographers that were waiting outside his home and he did not care to rope his brother into that. But he had made an appointment with Lupe at Hotel Monseñor for later that afternoon.

Surprisingly, when he had given his name to the Hotel Monseñor while making the reservation they were overjoyed that he had chosen their establishment for his liaison. They asked if he was being shadowed by the press and when we affirmed that he was they offered him a considerable discount if he stopped long enough near the large sign out front to get some good shots. Apparently, he and Lupe were something of a sensation at the moment.

"It does not! You do realize you don't have to marry the girl just because you have a…dalliance with her, right? Dorothy is from a good family!" His father seemed much more offended than the receptionist at Hotel Monseñor had been.

"Yes, they came over on the Mayflower, I know. But look around us. Do you see Plymouth Rock? Did any of the Cabots or Vanderbilts or Carnegies come down here with us? No, they stayed on dry land because they already had it made. We're a bunch of second-stringers who figured we'd try our luck elsewhere since the kings had already been crowned up there. So by my reckoning, which is excellent, by the way, patrician breeding means nothing in Rapture. Less than nothing, actually, because it encourages one to rest upon their laurels. So if you'd like to find a stick to beat me with concerning this whole spectacle, I'd suggest you'd find another one."

Elder Stone narrowed his eyes. "It's a dirty business, all of it. I'd have hoped you had better sense."

If I had better sense I wouldn't be here in the first place. "My apologies for any indigestion this has caused you. It will blow over soon enough once another story hits the papers."

His father sighed, perplexed at the sudden and radical change in his son's personality. "Do you at least have something useful for me? If you're down here hiding from your wife I'd hope you are getting some work done."

Richard pointed at the blueprint he had been working on. "This son-of-bitch-here will resist a nitric acid attack, just in case anyone gets it in their head to try that."

"Guns, boy, I mean guns. Have you started on the guns I wanted to make?"

"No." Richard picked his pencil back up. He noticed an error in the casing measurements and needed to rectify it. Should be an 8, not a 3.

"Are you going to?"

"No. I'll make defensive turrets, people and places need to be protected, but I'm not going to lend my skills to something a murderer or a thug could use against innocent people. I've been on the receiving end of guns, something you seem to keep forgetting now that I no longer have a cane, and it's not something I would wish on my worst enemy." Which would be Robert. Although the more he thought about it, the more he realized he probably would have shot Robert had punching not been an option. But in the cool, dispassionate logic he had now he wouldn't shoot someone.

This irritated his father far more than merely sleeping with Lupe and divorcing Dorothy did. "You can't deny me my right to make guns! This is the freest city in the world!"

Richard suppressed a laugh. "You can't force me to do whatever you'd like either. I'm not a slave. You want to make guns? Hire someone else. I'm not doing it."

"I suggest you get your head on straight," his father nearly growled at him. He then slammed the door shut as he left.

Richard was not too concerned with his threat. If push came to shove he owned 24.5% of Stone and Sons, with Rollie having the other 24.5% and his father the remaining 51%. That had to be worth a few million at the least. That'd be enough seed money for any business he cared to get into. But his father's threats were empty in the first place; he'd never cut the best engineer in Rapture loose.

He worked on the drafting board for the next few hours until his appointment with Lupe. When he stepped out of the office building there were no photographers or press, but they managed to find him a block or so after he left the building. Remembering the terms of the bargain he had struck with Hotel Monseñor, Richard elected to take The Atlantic Express to Olympus Heights instead of the bathyspheres. His hunters had to wait in second class, however, so Richard had some relative privacy on the train.

Richard was so very tired. Not emotionally or mentally or anything as unsolvable as that. He was physically exhausted. It had been two days since he had slept more than a few fitful hours at a time. A sane man would have taken the day off from work but Richard was not comfortable closing his eyes with Dorothy in the same house. Not that she didn't have the right to be mad, but he had tried, he really, had, and Lupe was just better, but even if Lupe wasn't there he'd have left Dorothy after getting the slug, but if he wasn't in Rapture he'd never got the slug, but otherwise he'd never have met Lupe, but then again there was plenty of fish in the sea…Richard's thoughts bounced around like dozens of tennis balls in a cement mixer.

"I need a nap," he muttered to himself.

The train pulled into the station. Richard didn't know where Hotel Monseñor was, so he had to peruse the directory as nonchalantly as possible while trying to ignore the press. He honestly had no idea how to handle the press. Collins had strongly advised him to not antagonize them, but talking to them also seemed like a poor idea. Pretending like they weren't there seemed to be the most prudent option, and taking advantage of the situation to receive a hefty discount at the hotel was the most economical option.

Richard stopped in front of the sign, as requested, and lit a cigarette. He stood and smoked long enough for the pictures to be taken, the whole time purposefully not looking at the cameras. The receptionist at the front desk was excited to see him, and as she handed him the key she slyly informed him that Ms. Cervantes was already checked in. Richard eyed the photographers still waiting outside and made a mental note to check the room for hidden cameras.

Lupe must have heard the key in the lock because she rushed to him at the door. "Richard, oh, are you okay? How are you?"

Richard gently pushed her back into the room, lest any prying ears listen in. "I'm fine, darling, I'm fine. What about you?" He shut the door firmly behind him. The room was very well appointed, nicer than the casino had been, with plush overstuffed armchairs, teak furniture, a window with a stunning view of the city, thick carpeting, and massive four-poster bed strewn with pillows.

"Oh, I'm dandy," she answered cheerily. "Rollie's been so kind to me and I've had two whole days off!" Lupe giggled and gave Richard a squeeze. "And now I haven't got a job at all!" She peppered his face with kisses. "But what about you? You were in jail!"

He returned her kisses with equal affection. "It wasn't so bad. Besides, I was guilty of what they accused me of, so they didn't ask me a bunch of questions."

Her eyes got wide as he reminded her of it. "You nearly killed him! Good! Did you know they gassed me and that's why I was knocked out and slept for eighteen hours straight?!"

"Gassed?" Richard's blood lust started to stir. "When?"

She motioned for him to sit on the bed. "It's in the paper, listen," she explained as she sat next to him on the massive bed. She took one of the many newspapers and tabloids that were stacked on the nightstand. "An unnamed source at at Burton's Emergency Medical Clinic – that's probably the fool I talked to when I woke up – confirmed to this reporter that Ms. Cervantes, the young woman at the heart of the scandal – I like that, it makes me sound much more interesting than I am – was suffering from exposure to an unknown respiratory agent – that means I got gassed, that it wasn't in my drink or food," she read and commented to him.

"He had this planned out, him and that two-faced bitch of a wife of his," Richard realized aloud. It hadn't been a slipped mickey. I should pay Robert a visit in his hospital bed.

"Yes, I'm certain that's why they invited me in the first place." Lupe put down the newspaper. "That's premeditation. I don't know how that'd factor in up here, but up on land that'd make their punishment even worse. But why didn't you get knocked out?"

Richard lightly patted his stomach. "I don't get tipsy anymore either. He burns it all off."

"Ah, of course. What a surprise that must have been for Robert, huh? Good." Lupe gestured at the other newspapers. "That fool at the clinic was flapping his gums about me asking after you because you had been in the same room as me, so our little secret is out in the open. I'm famous, at least for now, as your mistress, but people seem to like that enough. They aren't calling me a homewrecker or a slut at least. Someone got a picture of me when I was shopping for some new clothes this morning." Richard had sent her some cash and a note explaining Dorothy's actions before going to work. "I looked a fright, I'd been wearing the same clothes for about three days now. But there I am, page two." She sighed. "I wish Helena was around to see this, she'd get a kick out of it."

Richard took her hand. "Darling, really, do you feel alright? You damn near got raped."

Lupe shook her head. "No, because you were there, and you'll keep me safe," she adamantly said and took his other hand. "Right? You will?"

Richard exhaled slowly. He couldn't promise such a thing. Complete security, complete safety, complete protection? No one could. But he looked into her eyes and changed his mind. He could. And he would. It was as simple as that. "Yes. As long as I draw breath you'll be safe."

Lupe hugged him. In her tight but shaky hug he could sense the anxiety in her. "I know you will," she whispered. "That's why I'm afraid. Not really." She sighed. "Maybe a little."

He kissed the side of her face. "Everything is going to be okay. We are still getting that apartment in Elpis Close by Friday, and we will hole up here until then. It's going to be alright and the whole night in the casino will be a bad memory."

Lupe left his embrace and stood up. "You're right. And, honestly, it's not much of a memory for me as it is anyway. I don't recall a damned thing about the night. Will you tell me what you remember?"

Richard leaned back on the bed and shut his eyes. "I'm exhausted darling, can it wait until I've had a nap?"

She climbed next to him and curled up. "Of course, of course," she reassured him. "I'm not tired but I will lie here with you, okay?"

Richard grunted an affirmative. He could feel her soft warmth next to him and that was the nudge of relaxation needed to plummet into slumber.

Would You Kindly Imagine A Page Break Here?

Lupe watched Richard doze for a few minutes, then got bored and arose from the bed. She changed out of her brand-new green cotton day dress into a sultry sheer nightgown, determined to get the cocking she had been denied the past few days. There was something about having sex with Richard that was different from other men – after a while she started bodily craving it like a cigarette or a drink. She wanted his seed in her, not just in a purely erotic way but in a very real physical way. Lupe needed him, she didn't just want him.

Lupe opened her train case and removed the top shelf. In the bottom compartment was the special rope Madame Mimi had gifted her. She had hoped to employ it at the hotel as a fun surprise, but, well…she uncoiled the rope and examined it. It was six sections of five feet. She had put a small amount of the ointment as well into a smaller jar and she was hoping she'd need to use it.

She wanted to see how far she could go. After all, Richard had dominion over her and she desired to expand that dominion as far as possible. To give herself to him entirely, in every way, without question. Not only would he keep her safe then, but the idea of being totally at his mercy, and his mercy being painful slaps and pinches, thrilled her. She held a segment of rope in her hand and looked over at Richard. Do things to me you have never even dare to dream of, she lustily thought as she surveyed her sleeping paramour.

After an hour Richard didn't awake. Fair enough, she reasoned. Two hours? Also reasonable. As was three. Lupe had a lot of reading material, but after four hours she was starting to get antsy. She was considering changing back into her dress and going out for a bite to eat, even if it was nearly 11 PM, when Richard finally stirred.

"Good evening," she softly greeted him from the armchair she had been sitting in.

Richard sat up. "Mmm, don't you look good enough to eat."

She smiled. What is the point in pretenses and small talk? Her body ached to get fucked six ways to Tuesday. "Would you like me to suck on your cock now Mr. Stone?"

Richard ran his hands through his hair, considering her request. "No, I don't think so. You want it too badly, and you haven't really earned it. What have you done to earn it? All I can see is that you've been lazing around reading the newspaper."

"Well what do you expect of me? You've been napping," she slyly argued back, knowing her part to play in their game.

He stood up out of the bed. "It doesn't matter that I have been napping, there's lots you could have done." Then, desperate for some imagined infraction to pin on her, he pointed at her dress which she had inelegantly draped over the radiator. "Look there, you didn't even bother to hang up your new dress! And I paid good money for that dress."

Lupe rose from her chair as well. She was fully naked under her sheer nightgown, and both her rosy nipples and dark triangle of hair were foggily visible. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stone," she haughtily said. "I guess I thought I'd have more time to clean up."

"I don't like your tone," he dismissively said while hungrily gazing at her body.

She theatrically rolled her eyes and turned from him, leading him to the bureau where the ropes were. "I guess you'll have to change my tone then, huh?" She lightly ran her fingers over the ropes. "Maybe these can help? I wouldn't know though, whatever will you do with them?"

Richard's eyes got big as he beheld his surprise. He picked up a segment. "Yeah, I think so…" he trailed off and twisted the rope between his hands. "I will fix your tone quite well."

Lupe smiled to herself, proud of the fact that she had reduced him to babbling. "Whatever you want," she whispered into his ear. "I want your monster all over me."

Richard hesitated for a moment, squeezed the rope in his hand, then grabbed Lupe around the waist and dragged her to bed. "Don't you order me around," he roughly told her as he pinned her to bed.

Lupe's heart began to hammer in excitement and satisfaction. "I wouldn't dream of it," she purred at him. "Tell me what to do, please Mr. Stone."

Richard pried her legs apart, exposing her already slick slit to him. "Keep your legs apart," he ordered her and he let go of her legs. He then quickly tied a length of rope around her left wrist.

"Mr. Stone, why are you having me hold my kitty open if you aren't interested in it?"

He tugged on the rope around her wrist. "Because I told you to. You want to please me, right? Then don't ask questions, just do." He gave her tits a light slap. "Right?"

"Yes," she moaned, relishing the sting of the slap.

He gave them a harder slap. "Yes what?"

"Yes Mr. Stone, I'll do what you say." Please, please tell me to do oh-so naughty things!

Richard didn't respond, but took another length of rope and tied it around her right wrist. He then stood up, both ropes in hand. "Good," he imperiously commented after a moment while gazing at her revealed slit. "But I think you are still enjoying this, and that's not what punishment is all about." He tugged on the rope and she slid across the bedspread a little.

Lupe certainly was enjoying it. "I'm sorry," she mewled, extremely not sorry about any of it. "Can I suck your cock to show you how sorry I am?"

Richard scoffed and yanked harder on the ropes. As Madame Mimi promised, they didn't burn and felt silky smooth against her wrists, but Lupe still exclaimed as if they caused her concern. Using the ropes, he pulled her around so that her head was at the pillows. "Close your legs, I'm not going to fuck you any time soon," he condescendingly ordered.

Lupe pouted but put her legs down. She was on tenterhooks, waiting for his next order. Come on, let me have it! Her snatch purred at the thought.

Richard undid his belt. "Don't get too excited about this, you've got a long row to hoe before my cock comes out to play. Take your nightgown off and then lay over the edge of the bed. I'm going to tie your wrists to the posts because I'm going to give you a taste of my belt. Maybe that will learn you."

Lupe tore her nightgown off, getting it momentarily tangled in the ropes attached to her wrists. "Yes Mr. Stone," she demurely said as she scooted down to the end of the bed and took her place. She stuck her bottom out, inviting him to get started, but Richard first tied her left wrist to the bedpost, ran his hand down her arm to her shoulders, kissed her neck, then ran his hand up her right arm and tied that one to the post as well.

He finally turned his attention to her rear. He gently prodded her soaking wet slit with a single finger. "How much was that dress?"

Lupe was having trouble remembering much of anything when his finger was inside of her. "Um…eleven dollars I think," she moaned and wiggled her hips, trying to eek pleasure from his touch.

Richard didn't remove his finger. "You like that, huh? Say that you like it."

"I like it Mr. Stone, I like your finger in me," she rushed to say, hoping that if she pleased him he'd keep doing it.

"Ah, you feel right into my trap! This isn't about what you like, remember?" He took his finger out and slapped her bottom.

Lupe groaned and laid her head on the satiny bedspread. "Please punish me Mr. Stone."

"Eleven dollars you said? Then I think eleven strikes will drive the lesson home." He paused. "Is that…okay?"

"Yes, yes," Lupe hurriedly said. "You may. Please do, as a matter of fact."

"Alright." A soft smack, only the whisper of a whipping, struck her bottom. A pause, then another one, slightly harder, fell across her. She encouragingly moaned lightly. Apparently satisfied that Lupe wouldn't expire from it, the third one had some pepper behind it, and instead of coquettish moan, Lupe gasped in shock. Said shock traveled all over her body and set her nerves into overdrive.

"Did that one hurt?" Richard taunted her and before she had time to recover the fourth one struck her in the exact same spot, only serving to highlight the previous one.

"Yes!" Lupe cried out ecstatically, bracing herself for the fifth, but it didn't come quickly enough.

"Um…did it really hurt? Should I stop?" His voice had dropped his dead-one snob lord act. He was so good at it too, it was a significant factor in making the game real.

Lupe sighed in irritation at the interruption of her pleasure. Damnit, Richard, I'll let you know if you should stop. "No, if I want you to stop I will say to stop." She wiggled her bottom at him. No strikes came, however.

"I feel like that may become confusing though," Richard explained. "For example, what if I would like you to act as though you don't like it?"

Lupe was intrigued, as she had been when Madame Mimi first mentioned such desires in men. "Would you like me to?"

"Not necessarily, no, but it's a blurred line. If it sounds like I actually did hurt you, which is what I do not wish to do. That aspect is quickly becoming a problem for me, which is one I can't say I anticipated either." He sounded as if he was about to diagram his thoughts out on a blackboard.

"Um," Lupe mumbled, trying to think of a solution. His problem was rapidly draining all the erotic pleasure out of the room. "How about this? What if we have a code phrase that signals to you that I'm actually hurt and not pretending? Something that wouldn't be part of the play. Nothing like 'stop' or 'don't', but a word we'd never say. Like…typewriter. If I say 'typewriter' that means you have to stop, okay?"

"Typewriter," he repeated. "Alright, you're on."

She smiled to herself, tickled pink with how well she handled that situation. "How is it looking back there?" Lupe asked, not only out of curiosity but to guide his mind back to the matter at hand.

"You're all red, especially right here." Richard delivered the fifth one with renewed gusto now that his concerns had been addressed satisfactorily. Before Lupe could gasp the sixth came and she shrieked and pulled against the ropes while twisting, hoping to plump the energy in the room back up.

Lupe shut her eyes and sighed. "Please, Mr. Stone, I'm sorry," she coyly called out. "Surely six is enough, right? I don't know if I could take five more."

"You will though, and if I get any more complaints from you I'll start adding some additional swats as well." The seventh one came even harder than the previous ones. "Now stick your bottom out more, I haven't gotten it all red yet."

Eight and nine ripped across where her bottom met her thighs. All of her being was pulsating into her swollen and sensitive lower bud. She involuntarily rocked her hips back and forth. "Please, Mr. Stone, please touch me," she genuinely begged, all pretext of game gone from her pleas.

"No," he answered swiftly. "Did you learn your lesson yet?"

Number ten elicited another gasp. "Yes, I did, something about a dress, right?"

"Such impudence. Just for that, you get an extra three," Richard drolly added. "And…right…here." Number eleven was lighter in force, but its location right on her ready and wet entrance made up for the lack of force.

Lupe yelped as her mind was wiped of everything but pure pleasure. "Oh, my," she managed to choke out while straining at her restraints. "Oh, please…"

Richard paused, waiting to hear if she was going to use their code phrase, but when she didn't say it the belt lashed her again on her most sensitive and most hungry part. Her cries had morphed from exclamations of pain to moans of ecstasy. It hurt so good. But she wasn't aware of the paradoxical nature of the sensation, nor was she aware of anything else other than the throbbing tender bundle of nerves that was currently getting lit up like Times Square.

Lupe had lost count of how many more Richard had prescribed. As another swat hit her she felt her fervor climb ever higher and the height made her slightly dizzy. She leaned forward onto the bed and presented herself as much as she could, legs apart as far as she could and still stay upright. "Don't stop, not now, more," she softly ordered him, worried that he may have reached the end. One final slap of the belt reached her and she shuddered in delight.

"Did you learn your lesson?" Richard asked again. He no longer sounded aloof but a bit winded himself.

"Yes, Mr. Stone," she purred at him. "Please, oh please, please-"

Richard had apparently taken mercy on her. She felt the palm of his hand caress her slit; not gently, but vigorously. "I can see you liked it," Richard whispered into her ear. "That's not the point-"

Before he could tease her again Lupe reached the summit and loudly finished onto his hand. She arched her back and yanked on her ropes, full of quivering convulsions. Once they passed, she laid her head on the bed for a moment.

Richard untied her left wrist. "Don't get cozy on the bed, you're not done yet."

She lifted her head up. Oh yes, I nearly forgot. "Have I earned the privilege of pleasuring you with my mouth yet?"

"I suppose. You're still quite sass-mouthed though, we are going to have to correct that." He unbuttoned his trousers, revealing a cock as hard as week-old bread. "Over time, many lessons, many beltings."

She laughed and turned around to face him. "I agree, I have a terrible attitude problem." She stared at him, waiting for him to untie the other wrist, but when he didn't she took his meaning and wrapped her lips around his organ.

Now that her fire had been extinguished Lupe was able to concentrate on Richard's needs. Over the past few weeks, she had really gotten better at performing oral sex. And there was just something about swallowing his seed that scratched an itch she never had before. Not even an erotic itch; her interest in sex had dramatically tapered off in the last minute, but she still sucked and licked at his cock with enthusiasm, eager to ease the satisfying burst of fluid out of him.

Lupe had found herself craving Richard's seed – and specifically his seed – when she had been hiding out at Rollies. She longed for it in her mouth, to run down her throat, and to placate the thirst she had for it. So now she licked and teased and sucked at his engorged cock, hungry for her reward. He always finished in her mouth, never out of it, as the glowing nature of his seed troubled him somewhat and he didn't care to be reminded of it.

Richard held the rope tied to her left wrist, and pulled it tighter and tighter the closer he approached climax. He said nothing, speechless with pleasure, and finally dropped the rope and grabbed her hair. His lesson must have been near as arousing for him as it was for her and in less than two minutes he blasted her treat down her throat.

Lupe, now totally satiated, leaned back on to the bed and stared at him with a piercing gaze. She wordlessly watched him untie her right wrist, and then she crawled up onto bed. She was pretty tired herself, having not napped for hours like a certain someone had. She winced though as she lay down on her back. Her bottom really did hurt after that belting.

"Sweetest, would you please get my train case? It's on the credenza there," she requested. She felt stiff and achy, not from the belting exactly but from the strange past few days she had been experiencing. Nuts then, he can fetch it for me. "Actually, can you just get the little green jar out for me? It's in the bottom compartment."

"This one?" Richard held up a jar.

She turned her head to him. "Yes, that's the one." She rolled over onto her stomach. "Could you please?"

"Is this special belting cream or something?" Richard joked as he gently began to apply it to her reddened bottom.

"Yes, I got it at the same place I got the rope. It's a different sort of rope, didn't you notice?"

"I did. This city, huh? Some truly odd things for sale in it." Richard quietly rubbed the cream in for a few minutes. "Can I tell you something that's in my head? I think it's a crazy thought, but I got to tell you."

"Of course, you can do anything to me, can't you?" The cream worked as Madame Mimi had promised and the no-longer appealing burning was starting to fade.

He laughed a little. "Right. Promise you won't make fun of me?"

"I never would."

"Okay. I feel like our souls are vibrating at the same frequency, and that we are the only people in the whole city and probably the whole world with that frequency," Richard quickly rushed out. "Is that an odd thought?"

Lupe shook her head. "No. It's probably the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me. And belting me was certainly the sexist thing anyone's ever done to me, so you're aces sweetest, don't sweat."

Richard sighed contently. "Do you want anything else?"

"I could go for cake. Would you order some from the room service? I don't care which kind, but something as sweet as you are."

AUTHOR"S NOTE - Hey ya'll, I am going to be working on another project this upcoming week, so I won't have time to work on my story here. I will be back after a short break of one, maybe two weeks, but I will be back :) Cya soon!