Fiction: fs01 - Part 54

Author’s Note:  This takes place about a half an hour after Part 53.

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LIV

After Dinner we reconvene in the living room.  Mistress sits on the throne in the middle of the semi-circle.  She has me kneel on the bearskin rug a few feet in front of her, well in view of everyone.  One chair remains open.  Sammy and Gordon continue serving wine.  Based upon their mannerisms, tones of voice, and excitement level it’s clear to me that all of the women are at least a little drunk. 

My nerves have been on edge since dinner.  My head tracks back and forth across the room like it’s on a swivel.  I have no idea what to expect.  Lisa breaks the silence.  Her bright red cheeks tell that me she’s quite intoxicated.

“fur… I just wanted to clarify something.”  She lets out a small burp, which brings an additional blush to her already red face.

“I feel bad saying that you aren’t a real person back there.  I wanted to make sure you know that I do think you are a person… I just don’t… ya know… see you as an equal or anything like that.  I know that I just see you more as what you do than actually having feelings… or something.  Shit, that came out wrong.  What’s a nice way of saying that I don’t care about your feelings but care that you exist?”

“I thought you were trying to apologize, not make him feel worse, Lisa.”  Theresa’s words hit her with maximum impact.

Lisa covers her face with her hands. 

“Damn it, leave me alone!  What I’m trying to say is that… like… I care about your feelings but that they just aren’t as important as a normal person’s.  I think of you more like a faithful servant than a human being.”

I smile at Lisa.  She’s adorable when she’s flustered.  I understand what she says and it makes me happy that she cares.   Sometimes I feel like I’m only tolerated because I’m with Mistress.  I don’t mind being of lesser status as long as I’m appreciated. 

“Cass, you told us to lay it on thick but now I feel guilty.”

Lisa chugs her wine.

“What is she talking about, Cass?”  Barb’s curiosity rises.

“I may have asked them to be a little bit harder on fs today, Barbie.”

“But you didn’t tell that to me.”

“In due time my Dear…”

Mistress smiles at Barb and takes her hand. 

The doorbell rings.  Mistress pops to her feet.

“Our special guest has finally arrived.”

Mistress makes a motion with her hand.  She wants me to stay put.  The others rise and head to the door as Sammy and Gordon open it.  I can only make out a faint outline in the dim lighting.  I watch Mistress escort the new guest along the outer wall of the cabin to the room next to Lisa’s.  Sammy and Gordon follow with the luggage. 

The others slowly return to their seats as Sammy and Gordon float refilling their wine.  I overhear them speaking in lowered voices.  Most are curious about the guest; apparently this was a surprise to most. 

A few minutes later everyone is back in their seats.  The click of heels on the hardwood floors approaches from the direction of the room.  All eyes focus in on the figure emerging from the shadows.  The woman is a blonde.  She wears a magenta robe that matches the others, the tips of her boots peek out from the front as her long strides carry her gracefully out of the shadows.  She takes a seat in the open throne.  I trace over the contours of her face… she’s familiar but I cannot place her.  She flashes a grin as she takes a full glass of wine from Sammy.

“I’ve worn some kinky stuff in my day but this really does it.  I do love this robe though, where can I get one?”

“That one is yours to keep, of course.  Once you put it on you are a part of our little club if you choose to be.  If you would like a different color we make them at my shop.  I have to say though… it’s so good to finally meet you in person, Brittany.”

My eyes go wide as I feel my chest knot up.  She’s older but her cheekbones… the way her nose is angled up every so slightly… the full lips… I’m ashamed that I didn’t recognize her.   A feeling of uneasiness creeps its way into my heart.

“It is great to meet you, Cassandra.  We’ve known each other on social media for what, almost 5 years now?  I was surprised to get this invite on such short notice.”

“I’m very happy you could make it.  You ended up being part of a conversation we had a few days ago.  Barbie here asked me if I knew you and when I said yes, she thought it would be fun to invite you.”

“I was part of the conversation?  I doubt it was anything good.”  She lets out a small laugh.  Barb whispers across to Brittany while Mistress continues.

“Please call me Barb, and not Barbie.”

“It was fine.  Barbie was just curious as to how my slave came to be the way that he is.  I’m pretty sure he’s freaking out inside right about now.  It’s more fun to let him stew.  I saw that you got divorced last year?”

“Yes, Cassandra.  I’m finally free of that asshole.  On the upside, I married up and we had no pre-nup so I got quite the settlement as well as a monthly stipend as long as I don’t remarry or get a high paying job.  I feel guilty admitting it but I’m actually better off not working as things are.  Things are quite comfortable right now.”

Theresa chimes in.

“I hoped you raked him over the coals.”

Light laughter ensues as Brittany continues.

“So what all did you talk about that I was a part of?”

“We mostly reminisced about my slave in his younger days.  Why don’t you share some stories with us, I’m sure everyone would love to hear a first-hand account rather than my brief little rehash.  Tell us some of your favorites.”

Brittany’s face blushes bright red.

“Oh my God… I was such a bitch back then.  Give me a minute.”

Brittany chugs down her glass of wine.  Sammy is quick with a refill.  She takes a few more sips off of the glass before fanning her face with the glass.  Her eyes meet mine and she responds with a wicked grin.

“I totally used to terrorize him back then.  When I transferred back into public high school I noticed him right away but by then I cared more about being popular than being nice and he was anything but popular.  I noticed that he would always stare at me.  I was just going to ignore him until my friends Chloe and Courtney noticed as well.  Over a few weeks they told me to teach him a lesson for looking at someone that was ‘out of his league.’” 

She pauses and takes another drink.  My heart hurts a little, knowing that she noticed me the entire time but chose to ignore me. 

“Anyways, we got drunk one night and came up with a plan.  I remembered that he was always smart, so I figured we could benefit from it as well.  I had Chloe and Courtney lure him to the girl’s bathroom after school and a group of us duct taped him to the stall frame so that his wrists and ankles were secured and put a piece of tape over his mouth.  I took a pair of scissors and cut off his shirt, dropped his pants to his knees and cut off his underwear.  By then he was crying but I tuned it out.  We took out some permanent markers and wrote and drew all over his body.  After Chloe wrote ‘gayboy’ on his forehead that nickname just sort of stuck.”

The memories rush back… deeper than before.  A wave of shame crashes upon my heart.  I lower my eyes and let my arms go limp at my sides.  The others listen to her words intently.

“After that we took pictures of him.  Courtney shoved a marker up his butt.  He thrashed around and bawled while we all just laughed at him.  It was then that I got really nasty.  I told him that if he didn’t do exactly what I said that I would enlarge the photos and post them all over the school.  He was so freaked out that I don’t think he realized that you can’t order enlarged prints of Polaroids.  He completely bought it and was my personal servant from then on.”

My knot tightens.  This story makes me feel stupid.  Brittany downs the second glass of wine.  Her cheeks grow rosy and I can tell she’s loosening up.  Sammy refills her glass.

“What else did you do?” asks Theresa.

“Well let’s see… oh yeah, I used to make him walk to my house every day after school even though I had room for him in my car.  Rain, snow, it didn’t matter.  If he didn’t get to my house I was going to spread the pictures.  My parents were always gone so we’d make him do our homework and wait on us.  One day when we were trying on outfits for a party Courtney noticed he had a boner.  We made him put on a pair of panties and tied his hands behind his back and took more pictures with his little cock poking out the top.  It was hilarious.  After that I somehow ended up with a pair of police-grade handcuffs and whenever he got an erection we would handcuff his hands behind his back and lock him in the closet.  Oh, we were sooooo mean.  I still can’t believe we did that.  I swear it must have happened almost every day.” 

“What do you think the meanest thing you ever did was?”

Brittany blows her hair from the side of her face and arches her eyebrows for a few seconds.

“I’m not sure if I can think of any one thing that was the meanest but there was a time when we wanted to go shopping at the mall.  It was a very cold winter that year.  We put him in a tight pink t-shirt and made him walk.  The mall was like 8 miles away.  The mall was packed and we went shopping all over the place and made him carry our bags.  We spent a lot of time in lingerie stores, too.  His face was so red.  He was so easy to tease.”

”He still is.” Mistress chides bringing about a round of laughter.

I feel very small.  Hearing Brittany tell stories causes each memory to rush back in vivid detail.  My heart aches.  I want to disappear. 

“Cass says you’re the reason that he likes women in fur, is that true?”

Brittany rolls her eyes in a joking manner.

“Probably?  I’m not sure.  After my parents divorced my Mom was kind of a gold digger.  She married this rich doctor and they traveled all the time.  She felt that gifts equated your value so even though they were gone, there were always gifts.  Mom was a big fan of furs so when I turned 13 I started receiving them every year on my birthday and Christmas.  Expensive furs.  When I wore them I they made me feel loved and as I matured they made me feel sexy as well.  At school I wore cheaper furs that were more practical but at home I would wear the real furs whenever I wanted to feel good about myself… which was almost every day.  I never really wondered what gayboy thought of them, but he must have liked them if what you’re saying is true.  Does he still have an erection problem around women?”

Mistress laughs.  I blush.

“Oh he definitely used to.  I’ve put a stop to it since then.  His penis stays locked up in a steel chastity belt pretty much 24-7.  I do let him out once a week for cleaning but I doubt he even remembers what it feels like to play with himself.”

“I still can’t believe that, Cassandra.  That a man would let you lock up their junk like that.” 

Dominique lets out a small laugh.  She wasn’t present for the conversation earlier in the week so this is all new to her.

“Really, Brittany?  It sounds like you were quite the little dominatrix when you were younger.  I’m surprised you turned out vanilla.”

“Is everyone else here into like that BDSM stuff or whatever?”

All voices sound in unison.

“Yes.”

Brittany leans her head back and guzzles more of her wine.  Her face flushes red.

“What’s wrong, honey?”

“I just feel really naïve all of a sudden.”

“Don’t.  It takes some getting used to.”  Mistress smiles at her.

“So I’ve been worried that I would tell all these stories and you would all think I’m some kind of terrible person… but why do I get the feeling that no one actually feels that way?”

Lisa blurts out.

“Don’t be silly.  We want to hear more.”

Theresa steps in.

“I think what my drunk friend here means to say is that all of us are very familiar with fur and we’ve all at some point had a hand in doing things like that to him, if not worse.  Hearing you tell these stories is actually quite sweet and we’re enjoying it a lot.”

“fur?  Is that what you call gayboy?”  Mistress responds to her question.

“My slave’s name is fs01.  Or fs.  The girls have taken to calling him ‘fur sissy’ ever since I started dressing him like that.  You can call him whatever you would like.”

“Hah.  fur sissy… that’s classic.”

Barb leans forward.

“Please continue.  Do you have any stories that are dear to you?”

Brittany sighs.

“Yes.  I do have one.  Senior year of high school both of our parents left us home alone over Christmas.  This was somewhat common for my parents but I usually would do Christmas with a friend or a relative.  This year I was home by myself.  fur sissy’s parents left him home by himself too.  I made him walk over every day in the cold and snow and he was so poor, he didn’t have boots, gloves, or a hat.  I made him come wait on me every day.  Over break I started feeling lonely.  I did some soul searching and realized that he had become important to me.  While I loved tormenting him I began to count on his company… always having someone there whenever I needed them.  I think I was in love with him.”

“Oh, wow.” 

“Yeah, it was kind of crazy.  Here was this poor unpopular boy with no friends that I was horrible to… and I just started to care for him.  I remember he brought me a Christmas present that year and I just blasted him over it being cheap or something like that.  That was a weird day.  I took him for a drive and basically begged him to tell me he cared for me but instead he broke my heart.  I punished him when we got back and made a more aggressive and sexual move.  It was awkward but special.  I baited him again and he broke my heart.  From that day on I was even worse to him and that continued until we graduated.”

Tears fill my eyes as I remember that day.  I hear B’s words clear as day.

“I’m disappointed in you, fur sissy.”

I’m disappointed in me, too. 

“I don’t blame him, B.  If he was even half as confused as I was back then I’m sure he didn’t know how the hell to react.  Cassandra, is it okay if I talk to him now?”

“Go right ahead.”

Brittany gets up from her throne and approaches me slowly.  I keep my head down as the tears in my eyes finally reach their limit and the first one streams down my cheek.  She sprawls out on the bearskin rug next to me, her face displays a pleasant smile.  The sweet scent of her perfume invokes some deeply buried feelings within me.  My sex strains against the belt.  She speaks to me I a gentle tone.

“Hi, gayboy.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”  I nod slowly in response.

“I’ve missed you so much.” 

She reaches out and embraces me, pulling my face into her chest.  My eyes catch a flash of something shiny buried in the fur trim of the robe.  She rocks me back and forth and it frees itself, toppling end over end before dangling from its chain.  I recognize it immediately.  The silver pendant I bought her for Christmas. 

The gates of my heart burst open and the emotions flow freely outward.  I sob into her chest, unleashing all of the pain and confusion of my teens and 20’s.  She continues to hold me as she rocks me back and forth… she speaks to me from her heart.

“I’m so sorry.  You were always there for me.  You were the one I could count on.  I didn’t realize it until it was too late.  I took you for granted.”

Brittany begins to sniffle but continues to talk.

“In college Chloe and Courtney bailed on me as soon as they got boyfriends.  I thought about you a lot but I didn’t think I could ever show my face to you after what I did.  I was so worried that I ruined your life.  I ended up following in Mom’s footsteps.  I married a rich boy.”

I raise my arms and embrace her around her waist and squeeze. 

“Are you happy, gayboy?”

“Yes, Miss Brittany.  Very happy.”

“Do you have a good life?”

“Yes, Miss Brittany.  I love my life.”

“Do you hate me?”

“No, Miss Brittany.  I could never hate my first love.”

She sobs and places her head on mine. 

“Thank you, Miss Brittany.”

“For what?”

“For making me the person that Mistress would choose.  Without you, I would never have found her.”

We cry out our tears together.  After a few moments we release each other.  I take the pendant in my fingers and give it a kiss.  My body feels lighter.   I’m sure Brittany’s does as well.  I watch as she stands and teeters and makes her way back to her throne. 

“Cass, your husband is a wonderful man.”

“Thank you, Brittany, he definitely is.”

Barb stands up from her throne.

“Husband?  You’re married?  Seriously?”

She runs her fingers through her hair and sits back down.

“I swear I told you, Barbie.”

“No, you just said you had a slave that lived with you.  Oh my God, I’m a home-wrecker.  Fuck.”

She covers her face with her hands.  Mistress motions to me with a motion of her head.  I shuffle on my knees over to Barb’s chair.  I place my head on her knee and rub my face against her thigh.  I reach my arms out and embrace her as best I can.  Barb looks down at me.

“You’re really okay with this?”

“Yes, Miss Barb.”

“Why?”

“You make Mistress happy, Miss Barb.  Also, you’re a very special woman: Mistress chose you.”

She pets me and shakes her head. 

“At some point I might get used to this crazy world… please… tell me that I will.”

Laughter ensues.  I smile. 

“You know, pet, it was Barbie’s idea to invite Brittany.  She asked if I knew her and when I said yes, Barbie thought you could use some closure.”

I squeeze tighter. 

“Thank you, Miss Barb.  You’re a very special woman.”

Dominique springs to her feet.

“Enough of these Hallmark moments, I demand cake!”

Her demands are met with unanimous agreement.  Sammy and Gordon bring out some large serving trays and pass out slices of cake.  From my vantage point it appears to be some very rich chocolate.  I watch as they dig in.  Sammy and Gordon stand on either side of Dominique and eat as well. 

I glance up and make eye contact with Mistress.  I read her expression like a book.

“pet, would you like a piece of birthday cake?”

My insides twist knowing full well what is happening.  Her lips part into a wicked grin.  She knows that I know.  I accept my role as their amusement.  I place the ball on the tee and wait for them to swing.

“Yes, Mistress, I would love a piece of cake.”

“Barbie?”

Barb takes a deep breath and locks her eyes on mine.  A smile forms on her face.

“A slave wants cake.  That’s so cute.”

Laughter ensues. 

END ACT