Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Fiction: fs01 - Part 62

Author’s Note: This takes place a couple of weeks after Part 61.


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LXII

I stand at attention as Mistress eats her breakfast while she scrolls through her tablet. I’m unprepared for what she brings up next.

“I’m taking you out today, pet. A new local Femdom group has formed recently and I was contacted through my blog several weeks ago to see if I would be willing to act as a guest speaker for them. It meets this afternoon and I plan on taking you to accompany me.”

My chest tightens a bit as a thousand worries immediately enter my head. The thorough cleaning and shaving yesterday makes complete sense now. Mistress slides her chair out abruptly from the table and turns to me. She parts her robe and spreads her legs and leans forward showing off her cleavage that is framed in the fur trim of her robe. I feel the chemicals in my body swing out of balance as my brain says “run” while my sex strains against the metal prison.

“I’ll bet you are freaking out inside right now and wondering why I waited until the last minute to tell you.”

I blush and look at the floor. The accuracy with which she reads me is still a bit nerve-wracking.

“My little pet, always so cute when he’s scared. I expect you to be on your very best behavior. Their impression of you will reflect upon me, and I know you want to make me proud.”

I try to respond but my “Yes, Mistress” makes no sound as my mouth is suddenly too dry to speak.

Mistress lets out a laugh as she rises from her chair. Her hands press me up against the wall as she leans in seductively. She tugs on the leather front strap causing the metal spikes to dig into the flesh on my neck. Her head leans forward and her lips meet mine. Her tongue forces its way into my mouth.

“I know how much it excites you to be put on display in front of strange women… fully exposed so that they can see the ‘real you.’” I close my eyes and contort my face a little as my cheeks flush a deep red.

“But don’t worry, I have a feeling you’ll enjoy being poked and prodded by 60 or 70 women. Although at times I know you are prone to turning into a cheap slut and you are quite the lady killer, pet. I’m sure once I inform them of your little ahem, ‘problem,’ they’ll probably lose all interest.”

She taps on the front plate of the chastity belt with her fingernail. I feel my stomach twist as she reminds me of my “condition.” My brain continues to spiral. She continues to tease me.

“Do you really think I’d be that cruel, pet?” She moves her lips close to my cheek as she drags her finger down my chest and finds a nipple to play with. I quickly nod my head before I feel myself slipping into her trap.

She shoves me away and arches her eyebrow.
“Well, if that’s how you really feel, I can’t disappoint you, now can I?”

She smiles as my spirit shrinks. The illusion of choice makes me forget that this game is unwinnable.

“I’m off to get ready. Make sure your uniform is primped and presentable.”

I watch as she departs the room with confident strides. I follow slowly, in hesitant baby steps that reflect my mood. In front of the bathroom mirror I find myself struggling to look at myself. Mistress knows that I don’t need to primp, she just enjoys the idea of me squirming. I do make sure that everything is straight and in order before departing.

Mistress descends the stairs. Her leather knee high boots reach just to the base of her black leather skirt. A red blouse that displays her cleavage is trimmed with black fur at the collar and cuffs with some black leather driving gloves. I smile as my thoughts drift to her way of dressing being conservative for a kink meeting. As she nears me the scent of her perfume fills me with lust. I do my best to hide it but Mistress has a sixth sense when it comes to detecting the strain of the chastity belt.

She smiles at me seductively before her brow wrinkles.

“Disobedient little pet. When I tell you to primp it means to fluff the fur so that it looks as big and puffy as possible. This looks like you tried to press it down. Do I need to put in a request for a version 4.1?”

I blush a bit as her hands comb their way through my collar and earmuffs. She leans in close and whispers.
“I think you’ll have a date with the strap tonight. You need a little reminder on how we do things here.”

She backs away with a sly smile. I lower my head in shame.

“Black trench coat and black fox headband.”

I scurry into the coat closet and retrieve them for her. When I return her arm is already extended. I slide her arm into the sleeve and wrap the coat around her. I straighten it out and cinch the belt snugly at her waist before gently lifting her hair out from the collar. The headband follows. I complete the ritual by kneeling and kissing her feet. First the right foot, then the left.

“Get your pink, hooded cape.”
I nod and quickly fetch it from the closet. I pull the cape over me while Mistress does the neck closure. She then turns it to my side and grabs my wrist, forcing my hand behind my back. I reach my other hand back and with a tug and a click, my hands are secured behind my back to the ring on the back of my belt. The gag and blindfold attachments follow. I feel a leash being clipped onto my collar ring. Lastly I feel her pull the hood up over my head and pull the drawstrings tight before tying them off. I can feel the fur trim from the hood pressing against my face below the blindfold.

I feel her body press against mine.
“If you really don’t want to go, pet, just say so and I’ll let you stay home.”
“Mmmphmmhmmmp.”
“I love that you’re always so agreeable.”
I hear her boots begin to click on the floor. A quick tug on the leash yields a sharp poke in the neck but I quickly match her pace, keeping enough slack to keep the spikes at bay. The same cannot be said about my wrists as the slight dig of the metal is constant unless I struggle.

Maneuvering the house happens with relative ease. Toppling headfirst into the pet carrier reminds me how much easier it is with the use of your hands and eyes. As I slide in I feel a chain connected between the O-rings on my boots before the gate closes behind me. The drive doesn’t take very long as I soon find myself stumbling blindly behind Mistress, each step causing a small splash at the moisture caused by melting snow.

We pass through a door and a few dozen steps later I find myself kneeling with the leash tied off to a ring on the wall. Mistress releases my blindfold but the edge of the hood and limited slack in the leash limit my field of vision. A quick scan with my eyes reveals that we are in the VIP section of the fetish club that Mistress brought me to last year that has been opened up during the day for the meeting.

A series of footsteps and small-talk fills the room for the next few minutes. Not long after the chairs shift on the floor and the clink of ice cubes in glasses follows. Mistress sits at the head of the table with a handful of other women. I let myself enjoy a small grin as the “60 or 70” ended up being “6 or 7.”

Mistress speaks first, addressing the group.
“Hello, and welcome to the first official meeting of the group. My name is Cassandra and I will be your mentor. I’m a small business owner and have a PHD in Psychology and I’ve been actively living this lifestyle for about seven years now. I know that most of you are familiar with my blog and I’ve met with you all one-on-one. Why don’t we go around the table and introduce ourselves. I believe all of you will find yourselves in similar positions to one another and it’s good to be able to lean on each other if you have questions or end up running into problems.”

“Hi, I’m Katelyn. I’m 26… single… umm… I’m new to all of this. I suppose I got interested in this when a friend recommended me the 101 Shades of Beige books. I realized as I read them that I think this was the type of relationship that my parents had. My dad passed away several years ago but when I asked my mom, she opened up about their lifestyle and it really made us closer. I think secretly that I’ve been trying to find a man like my father since I started dating but it wasn’t until recently that I realized why. And so… I’m here.”

There’s a small applause. From the corner of my eye I can see Katelyn blushing a little bit. They continue around the table.

“Umm… I’m Emily. I’m 23 and between relationships. I’m a bit surprised that I worked up the courage to be here today. I also got interested in this from the Shades of Beige books. I don’t have a life story to relate it to… it just really turned me on and I want to explore that side of things.”

More applause.

“Hi, I’m Sarah. I’m 34 and married. Two years ago I walked in on my husband watching Femdom porn. When I scanned his browser history I found out that this was a secret he had been keeping from me for a VERY long time. I felt deeply hurt and betrayed… like I had been deceived by him. He struggled to talk about it and I was so angry that I think I punished him. Our marriage turned cold and was heading towards divorce when a friend recommended me the Beige books. I read them all and for the first time approached things with an open mind. It’s not just whips and chains. I’m here today because I love my husband and I think this may save our marriage.”

As the applause fades out I find myself a bit overwhelmed by just how powerful ideas can be when they are accepted in mainstream media. Each woman has a bit of a story. One with a college roommate that practiced D/s. Another who found themselves curiously aroused and obsessed with Femdom after reading… the books. One who had been raped and was recommended this lifestyle as a means of healing by a “new school” therapist. The right side of the table is obstructed from view so I can only identify them by voices. As the last woman speaks I find my body jump a but, followed by a grunt as the spikes dig into my neck.

“I’m Brit, I’m 36 and divorced and just moved into town here. Back when I was in high school there was a boy I was just awful to. I bullied him, humiliated him, and even blackmailed him while I had him at my beck and call. I expected that he would hate me for it but it turns out he actually loved me. It was nice having someone I could count on like that. I married a man that was the opposite of him and after ten-plus years of unfulfilling married life we finally got divorced. I’m here because I want to understand how I can go back to feeling that way. Feeling alive and loving someone with a connection that can never be broken.”

I feel myself almost choking. I’m sure Mistress has noticed the rattling of metal. I can picture her smirk in my mind’s eye. Mistress takes the floor again.

“Thank you, everyone for introducing yourselves. Before we get into any specific topics I just wanted to tell you a bit about the life that I live on a daily basis. I never clean but my house is spotless. I haven’t had to cook or wash a dish in over five years. The laundry, yard work, snow removal and the like happens without me saying a word. My orgasms are frequent and amazing, and I’m never expected to reciprocate. My plans, my hopes, and my dreams are the focal point of our life. I’m allowed to be moody without guilt. I can at times be decadent and hedonistic and this behavior is encouraged rather than frowned upon. My husband is my submissive and he loves me like I am the world. He rarely makes mistakes or displeases me but when he does, he readily accepts my correcting him. He doesn’t spend a dime on himself. He’s never out late or busy with obnoxious friends. He respects and cherishes the friends I hold dear. He pampers me and caters to my every whim. I love him and we are happier than anyone else I know. Day after day, every day, it’s a new adventure.”

“Is that even possible?” Mistress responds with a chuckle.
“Yes, very possible. But it’s not something that happens overnight.”

She pauses to take a drink.
“As part of this process, I want all of you to envision your own fantasy life. If you could have everything your way, how would it be? If you could have him act any way you wanted, what would it be like? Don’t worry about what seems reasonable or realistic. Dream big. Relationships never stay the same, they have to change and evolve over time. It will be on you to direct that change. Fantasy acts as the gateway to reality. You have to know how you want things to be in order to get there. Could it be better? Could it be more? You will have to continually ask yourself these questions as they will tell you how to advance the relationship to the next level.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to sell something.” Mistress laughs again. I love the sound of her voice when she is having a good time.
“I suppose it does in some ways. But you’re all here looking to buy as well.”

“How long does building this kind of lifestyle take?”
“It varies from person to person. It depends heavily upon how willing your submissive is to be vulnerable. It also depends upon how quickly you can find methods of controlling them. If you are willing to take chances and make mistakes it may happen in a couple of years. For some, it will never happen. Others will find their own happy place that works for them but may fall short of what they originally fantasize about.”

“What kind of control are you talking about?”
“I believe one of my favorite Femdom bloggers said it best. ‘Controlling a sub’s desires is at the foundation of a Femdom relationship.’ In most cases, this is equal to controlling his orgasms in order to achieve his compliance but some submissives will have various fetishes that can be twisted and manipulated in a similar way.”

“Doesn’t that make you feel guilty at all?”
“Not in the slightest. What you have to remember is that if you can find the right submissive, they will seek to give up that control. They will enjoy being manipulated. With these subs you can train them and they will feel proud at their accomplishments, even if that involves a bit of conditioning. I know that my pet thrives on the idea that I am turning him into what I want the most.”

“You call him your pet? That’s so cute. Is that him over next to that pillar?”
“Yes, that is my pet. I like to show him off every now and then. He’s quite obedient and eager to please.”

“Can we meet him?”
“I suppose we’re almost out of time for today. Are there any objections?”

My hope that someone will object fizzles away. Mistress backs up her chair and approaches me. She unwraps the leash from the wall ring and pulls me to my feet. She loosens the hood of the cape, unfastens the neck, and slides it off of me, folding it over the back of her chair. I shuffle forward in the largest steps the ankle chain will allow.

As I approach the table my face burns red as I’m confronted with those expressions that cannot be faked. Genuine surprise… genuine amusement at my expense. Their laughter makes my chest sting as my dignity is forcibly torn from my body.

“Just what is that outfit?”
“This is fs’s daily uniform. Technically he is under contract to me as my maid and a maid should look the part right?”

I lower my eyes and wish my hands were free so that I could cover my face.
“I’ve never seen a maid that looks like that.”
“Why do you make him dress like that?”
“The answer to that is rather simple. It amuses me. It also turns me on a bit knowing that right now he just wants to hide and cry.”

“Do you keep him gagged all the time like that?”
“I do gag him quite often, but the majority of the time I leave his mouth free. It’s a crime to let a good tongue go to waste.”

Mistress changes gears for a moment.
“I just noticed our meeting time is over. For next week please think about your fantasy life. Also start working on a list in what you are looking for from a submissive as well as how you would represent yourself on an adult dating profile. If you have to leave, please drive safely and I hope to see you next week. If you would like to stick around for a few minutes, that is okay too.”

Brittany approaches me with a sly grin. She reaches out and flicks my nipple with her fingernail. I wince and grunt into the gag.

“Surprised to see me?”
I nod.
“I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot more of me from now on.”

She moves past me and talks to Mistress. Before long I find myself surrounded by these unfamiliar women. My face burns red as my eyes get misty. They poke and prod. They play with the bondage rings. They pet the fur. They pinch my nipples and cheeks. Before long I feel my dress being lifted. Comments about the bruises on my buttocks follow before the inevitable fascination with my chastity belt. I lower my eyes and let my mind slip away. I feel like a piece of meat.

I’m saved by the club owner giving us a 5-minute warning. I soon find myself wrapped up in the cape, the hood obstructing my vision as it partially conceals my face from the outside. I flop down and creep into the pet carrier while the gate closes behind me.

I wait for what feels like an eternity. Funny how patience wanes when you just want to go home and cry. Mistress’s door opens and the SUV bounces while she climbs in. To my surprise this process repeats itself.

“I’m so happy you’re free today, Brittany.”
“I’m free every day until I wait for my lawyer to let me know just how much I can work.”
“How are you liking your new place in the city?”
“It’s okay so far. It’s only a few blocks from the club. I’m going to hold off on a house until after the old house sells.”

The knot in my chest tightens a little as I zone out. Their small talk fades from my ears as the vehicles begins to move, the tires splashing puddles as we go. We arrive at the house shortly after. Mistress leads me into the house by my leash before freeing my hands inside the door.

I help her out of her coat and retrieve her robe, hat, and slippers. We perform our dressing ritual in front of Brittany. Mistress extends her arm. I slide the robe onto it and gently wrap it around her body. I cinch the belt around her waist, straighten the collar, and carefully guide her hair over the back. I place the hat on her head and kneel to tend to her boots.

“He’s so well-trained. I’m jealous. Back when he was younger he was terrible at all of this.”
“Did you teach him?”
“No, we mostly just spit in his face, hit him the balls, or tied him up, so I guess that’s on me.”

I blush heavily as I remove Mistress’s first boot and gentle slide the slipper onto her foot, planting a kiss gently upon it. I hear Mistress’s laugh as I remove the other boot. She toys with me, making me chase her foot with the second slipper before allowing me to slide it on and plant my kiss.

“That’s so fucking hot.” Mistress lets out a small giggle.
“If I had a dime for every time I heard that one. Brit, would you please pick a random number.”
“85. What am I picking?”
“The number of additional floggings with the strap that my pet will receive for tending to me before my guest.”

I let out a small groan as I hang my head in shame.

“Holy shit. Umm… make that 18.”
“Are you sure? I believe that 85 is a perfectly fair number for negligent disrespect.”
“Okay. How about 90 but split across three days. I remember how much pain he was in during the party.”
“That sounds fine. Did you hear that, pet? Our guest is kind enough to show mercy.”

I turn myself on my knees to face Brittany and lower my face to the floor.
“Thank you, Miss Brittany, for your kind consideration of my well-being.”

I quickly rise to my feet and attend to Brittany’s coat. She speaks as I slowly guide it off of her shoulders.

“Is it okay if I wear a robe, too? Also, can you make him do that thing? I just want to see what it feels like.”
“Of course. pet, make sure our guest receives the full treatment.”
I nod.
“Unfortunately the only hat like this is mine.”
“That’s fine. Actually, would you mind if I tried on one of those headbands like you wore today? I’ve never worn one. I have so many coats but I hate wearing hats. If it’s not too much to impose that is… I know that some people get a little bit weird when it comes to headwear.”
“Not a problem. The advantage of owning a fur shop is the discount. You can’t imagine the margin on some items, it’s a bit disgusting.”

In the closet I fetch a robe, slippers, and matching headband for Brittany. I return and stand at attention.

“So how do I do it? Something like this?”

She extends her arm. I slide the robe onto her and repeat the process the same as with Mistress. She giggles as I cinch up the belt. She giggles again as I remove her hair from the collar, she always was a bit ticklish. I place the headband in place and kneel to tend to her shoes. As I place each slipper on her foot I give a gentle kiss.

Her body vibrates under my lips as she shudders.

“Oh, that makes me so wet. I can’t wait to find a slave of my own. Shit. I’m sorry, Cass, I know I can have a foul mouth sometimes, that doesn’t offend you does it?”
“Just relax and be yourself. It makes me happy that we’ve barely just met in person and you are comfortable enough to act naturally. Also, I’m soaked as well.”

They both laugh together. I quickly rise, remove my cape and hang it in the closet. In the living room they sit and chat. Mistress instructs me to serve wine and I return with a bottle and two glasses on the silver serving tray.

“God, I wasted all those years married to some douche bag. I didn’t need a husband, what I really wanted was a slave.”

Mistress laughs.
“I felt the same way when I awakened. I’m surprised it took you this long to explore yourself like this?”
“Well, when I looked back upon who I was when I was younger, I always felt like shit about it. Guilty… terrible. When I saw you guys in person I saw a life where that didn’t matter… where what I wanted could be possible. Instead of being the good little girl everyone wanted me to be I could just be myself and there were people out there who would be okay with that. That made me so happy.”
“Well, my friends aren’t ordinary people in that regards, but I’ve trained them well.”

They both laugh together.

“So what are you looking for in a house here?”
“Something smaller than we had. It feels too lonely being in a huge house by myself. I’m also guessing I’ll need a ‘special room’ if I’m going into this life.”
“I’m starting to think we’re very alike. I chose this house because it was large enough to have guests but never so large that it felt lonely. It also had an unfinished basement that was perfect for allowing my to envision my ‘special room.’”

“You actually have one?”
“Of course. I call it the dungeon.” Brittany claps and ha’s.
“That’s so awesome. Can I see it sometime?”
“You can see it today if you want.”
“I would love that.”

“pet, what’s wrong with your eyes?”
I look up at Mistress. I feel like I’m made of cardboard… fragile and fake. She waves me over to her. I approach and fall to my knees. She unlocks the gag from my harness and places it on the table.

“Was today a little bit too much for you? Did you retreat to your special p lace?”
“Yes, Mistress.” I reply in a meek voice.
“Do you want to cry?”
I nod.

She puts her arms gently around my neck and pulls my face into her chest. I unleash the torrent of emotions that have built up across the day in a series of sobs and a stream of tears.

“What the hell?”
“Oh, don’t mind him. He gets like this whenever I put him on display to be inspected by strangers. He acts like he’s perfectly fine but on the inside his spirit took a beating. He’s fine after he cries it out.”
Brittany’s reply happens in a “cutesy” and sarcastic voice that stabs me in the soul.

“Oh, poor baby. Can’t handle being touched by all the big mean women. I forgot how sensitive widdle Fwancis is. Oh my god, was that like completely awful of me? I feel like that was horribly mean of me.”

Mistress laughs as I continue to cry into her chest.
“It’s fine, Brittany. You’re a natural. Don’t worry about hurting his feelings. Besides, widdle Fwancis has Mistwess to pwotect him fwom the big mean women.”

My sobs turn into small laughs as I wipe my tears with my eyes. Mistress is adorable when she’s acting cutesy. I love her so much.

“Brit, I forgot to mention it but I invited pet’s mother to visit about a week after the birthday party.”
“Was that your first time meeting Linda?”
“Yes, it was the first.”
“That bitch is a cunt with a capital K.”

Mistress laughs so hard she nearly spits out her wine.
“Any time you start feeling guilty, just remember that you were better to my pet than his mother was back in high school and that’s why my pet fell in love with you.”
“Say what now?”
“You mean you didn’t know?”
“Which part?”
“You crack me up, Brit.”
“So you’re saying, I was nicer to him than his mother?”
“Yes.”
“And that he was in love with me?”
“Yes.”

I watch Brittany push herself up the couch like she’s trying to avoid a pool of rising lava.
“So hold on. Just how bad was Linda?”
“Bad.”
“Like wouldn’t take him to Disneyland bad or like locked in the closet for a week with a coat hanger up his ass feeding him cat food under the door bad?”

It’s amusing how fast Brittany talks when she gets excited and on a roll.
“The second.”

I watch Brittany mouth the words “What the fuck?” with an arched brow.
“Is it okay if I talk to him? Like… he’s allowed to respond to me right now and stuff, right?”

Mistress laughs again.
“Yes, ask him whatever you like. He’s just not allowed to speak unless spoken to.”
I blush as Mistress spells out one of our dynamics.

“So, Francis, let me get this straight. I was actually nicer to you than your mom?”
“Yes, Miss Brittany.”
“Noway. I thought I was like the monster truck version of girl bullies back then. How was I nicer?”
“You cared if I was there… you would always find me, Miss Brittany.”

I watch as she digs her fingers into her hair and shakes her hands back and forth, messing it up.
“Jeeee-sus. You really were such a little tool, Francis.”
She shakes her head from side to side a few times before composing herself and taking on a snotty, pretentious voice.
“That will be all, Francis.”

I turn my head back to Mistress and put my cheek on her lap. She pets my head.

“Now what about all that in love with me crap?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You were his first love. He loved you ever since you were children. I remember him telling you that at the party.”
“Hell no. Uh uh. I don’t believe it. Did he? I was so drunk. I remember everyone else thinking he should have made a move and it was obvious to them. Why don’t I remember this? Everything happened so fast, Aaagh.”

She ruffles her hands through her hair again.
“Francis, did you love me?”
“Yes, Miss Brittany.”
“Well thank you, FRANCIS, for making me feel like this horrible bitch for the past 15 years. God. Can you hit him for that? Can I hit him for that? I don’t care who but I think someone should hit him for that!”
“Would you like to hit him?”
“Hell yes.”
“I suppose I would permit that under my supervision.”
“Really?”
“Yes. I believe he deserves it.”

I blush and let out a tiny groan into Mistress’s lap.
“But to be fair, someone as beaten down as my pet is unable to picture someone actually wanting them unless you say those words directly. I’m sure he kept those feelings bottled up waiting for the magic words to open them. I think your pendant was his silent declaration.”

Brittany holds the pendant in front of her face with a smile.
“So maybe he should want to hit me? You don’t hit girls, right?”
“No, dear. I never hit girls.”
“Good.”

Mistress laughs.
“You have so much energy. I’m really having fun.”

Brittany smiles at Mistress and takes another chug of wine.
“I just have one request.”
“Yes?”
“Please stop calling him Francis. I hate that name. f, fs, fur sissy, one, even gayboy is better than Francis.”
“Can do, fur sissy it is.”
“I hate the name Francis so much I had it changed.”
“Why did you change his name?”
“There was no way I was going to take on a slave’s last name, so I had his name changed instead. Both first and last.”
“What is it now?”
“That’s a secret.”
“C’mawn, you can’t leave me hanging like that. Is it Freddie? Frankie? Is it even a boy’s name?”
“Seee-kreeet”
“Fine. I’m adding you to my list.”
“List?”
“It’s a seee-kret.”

“Are you hungry?”
“Definitely.”
“pet, start making us dinner. You may have a hard boiled egg, a stick of celery, and six grapes.”
“Wait, so you control what he eats?”
“Of course. Real food is a treat and reserved for special occasions. Also, have you noticed that he’s not chubby anymore like he used to be?”
“You’re right!”

As I head towards the kitchen to start dinner I strain my ears and hear their final exchanges.

“Cass, aren’t you like… jealous at all or worried since fur sissy used to love me and I used to like him?”
“I’m not worried at all. My pet is 100% committed to me and completely obedient. If I ordered him to kiss you he would. Besides, you don’t have feelings for him anymore, do you?”
“That’s kind of screwed up, and no, he was a ghost from my past. I look to the future.”
“Also, with pet’s sexual condition, he’s not well-suited for most women.”
“Sexual condition?”
“My pet only gets aroused from...”

My face throbs red as I scurry around the corner into the kitchen. I cringe as Brittany’s voice carries through the house.

“HAHA! Seriously?! That’s so sad and pathetic! Yeah I’d say he’s broken!”

I run the water loudly trying to drown out her voice. I feel the shame sitting on my chest. Her laughs from the other room cause it to burrow its way in.

END ACT

5 comments:

  1. Fur, this is a huge entry lengthwise, and a definite step forward style-wise. It reminds me of some of your earlier writing which just seemed to flow, and makes me wonder if you're not beginning to get a little more emotionally involved than you've been since the elusive muse made her appearance once again.

    I do love the interaction between Cass and fur, especially when it's just the two of them, and Cass at the helm of a class of wannabees is just delightful. For some reason, this was my favorite part of her presentation:

    “I believe one of my favorite Femdom bloggers said it best. ‘Controlling a sub’s desires is at the foundation of a Femdom relationship.’ In most cases, this is equal to controlling his orgasms in order to achieve his compliance but some submissives will have various fetishes that can be twisted and manipulated in a similar way.”

    So wise:)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Lady Grey. 62 and 63 were supposed to be 1 chapter... once I hit 5000 words I realized I better split it up.

      I have definitely changed my writing style. When I began writing I gave myself a few limitations: Present tense. No (or very few) passive sentences. Portray the speed of word at the pace with which people could observe it with their eyes (e.g. limit compound sentences). Those limitations gave me a very consistent but fairly restricted style.

      Since I started writing again I ended up unintentionally releasing myself from those limitations. The writing flows more easily on my end and it probably reads a little better but it feels a bit different when I write it... less immersive. From a literary standpoint it is probably an upgrade.

      By getting into fs's backstory even more it opened up a lot of things emotionally for me with my own life.

      I am glad you noticed that line :)
      Cassandra is an avid reader of Woman in Control... and I sort of almost copied and pasted from your comments on my "Talking about sex" post.

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    2. I should also note that writing Brittany differently now that she is a bit more familiar with Cassandra opened up this one and made it enjoyable to write. Giving her dialogue like a sitcom "best friend comic relief" character gave a decently amusing contrast to the more relaxed characters. Basically, writing her as a 35-ish year old behaving like a 19-year old without a brain to mouth filter was a lot of fun for me.

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  2. Fur, I meant to ask this before, but is there actually a book called "Fifty Shades of Grey"? I know about the "50 Shades of Black" (which I haven't read because I understand it was about female submissives), but is there a "Grey" version? If so, is it about male or female submission?

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    1. Hello, Lady Grey. There is an actual book called Fifty Shades of Grey. It is M/f. It is part of a trilogy of books and got a movie adaptation.

      The fictitious novel in this Arc is sort of a "what if?" an F/m novel actually gained mainstream traction. I went with 101 Shades of Beige because it made me laugh.

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