Fiction: fs01 - Part 67

Author’s Note: This takes place a few days after Chapter 66.

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LXVII

I kneel next to Mistress in the living room. Brittany sits on the sofa as they engage in wine-driven conversation.

“So how did Richard pan out?”

“He was so fucking useless. I kicked his ass to the curb after about 45 minutes.”

“That good, huh?”

“It makes me so angry. All these subs, the shit storm of mail… ‘I want to serve you. I will obey you. I will worship you like a Goddess,’ all a bunch of fucking lies. Within the first 10 minutes it’s obvious the just want me to spank them and then fuck.”

“He should feel lucky you let him off that easy then.”

“Hah, no. I kicked him in the balls so hard he’ll probably be pissing blood.”

“You know, Brit, there’s a lot of men that will pay good money from that.”

Brittany’s face shifts to a bright shade of red.

“God. You know I hate it when you do that.”

“But it’s soooooo much fun. You’re cute when you blush.”

Brittany covers her face with her hands.

“Remind me why I come over here and hang out with you again?”

“Because I’m charming and deep down you love me.”

A pair of laughs soon fill the room. I grit my teeth and remain silent. Playing with fire is dangerous.

“So what number was Richard?”

“Umm… number 9 I think. Or was he 10? I don’t remember.”

“You must be burned out by now. All of that in three weeks? I can’t even imagine it.”

“Well, I’m sick of being alone and I’m anxious to have a boy around the house that I can kick around.”

“I’ll rent you my pet for five dollars a day if that’s all you want.”

My ears perk up and my eyes widen.

“You’re shitting me, right?”

“Of course.” Brittany sighs.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“So who is next on the list?”

“I’ll have to check again, I’m not sure.”

“Just out of curiosity, how are you choosing the ones you meet up with?”

“Well… first off they have to be able to write in complete, grammatically correct sentences.”

“What is reason number two?”

“I’m supposed to have a reason number two?”

Mistress places her hand on her face. Brittany bursts out laughing.

“I finally fucking got you, Cass. Eat it. Secondly, I look for ones that seem like they would be devoted.”

“Interesting. How do you determine that?”

Mistress’s ability to play-through Brittany’s jab without any response impresses me.

“I read what they write to me. I look at what claims they make and whether or not they seem realistic.”

“And I’m guessing these first few presented themselves in quite a confident way when it came to their devotion and abilities?”

“Yeah.”

“What do you think my pet wrote when he contacted me?”

“Hrm… well, knowing fs, I’d have to say it was probably some weak-ass whiny little blurb where he called you amazing and probably said he would be ‘grateful for the opportunity’ to try and serve you, all the while portraying himself as a loser with no confidence.”

I cringe a bit as the words sting in my heart.

“That’s actually pretty close, so I’m a bit confused.”

“Confused about what?”

“Because you’re looking for a copy of my pet aren’t you?”

Brittany points her face to the ceiling and shuts her eyes tight. Her face flushes red for a third time before my eyes. I feel my cheeks get a little bit hot as well. I read her lips as she mouths something silently. “What the fuck?” A moment later she regains enough composure to resume the conversation.

“Cass, if I paid you a dollar do you think you could try harder to embarrass me? I don’t think you’re quite doing everything you can just yet.”

“Am I wrong? You are searching for Francis 2.0. Oh, and keep the dollar, this one is on the house.”

My lips curl into a small smile as I fight to maintain a poker face.

“Okay. Let’s say for a moment that I am searching for Francis 2.0. What should I be looking for?”

“You already answered your own question. A timid little loser with no confidence that seems like the type who would have absolutely no chance with you in the vanilla world. Someone who would feel lucky just to be in the same room as you. Did anyone approach you in that way?”

Mistress’s words twist a bit within me but I silence them with conviction as I remind myself that she chose me and I am as she wants me to be.

“I’ll have to double check. Shit. I hope I didn’t delete them.”

I watch as she scrolls through her phone.

“Hrm. ‘I am a lzer shit on my face.’ I don’t think this is quite what you were talking about.”

Mistress bursts out laughing.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Brit. You just have to read into things in the right way and now you have a better idea of what to look for. Are you still receiving a lot of messages?”

“Is 1,500 a day a lot?”

“It’s definitely ‘enough’ to find what you are looking for. I could always order my pet to write one to you that you could use as a reference.”

A strange uneasy feeling creeps in.

“Nah, that’s okay. I’ve got this.”

“Have you shown my pet the picture you used on your profile?”

Brittany places one hand against her face.

“Don’t you dare, Cass. I will so totally fucking kill you...”

I watch as Mistress giggles and begins scrolling through her phone.

“Oh my God, Cass. Seriously. Stop it.”

Mistress holds her phone in my direction. On the screen is a picture of Brittany wearing her siren outfit she received at the party and a fur coat over the top. Her hair and makeup are done up and she stands with her arms on her hips and a flogger in hand. It is quite a sight and I feel a bit guilty finding her attractive. Mistress quickly retracts her phone before a sexual response occurs.

Brittany covers her face and makes some whining noises while rapidly kicking her heels against the sofa.

“I hate you so much.”

“Aww, but I love you. Now pet, tell Brittany what you think of the picture.”

I bite my lip and pause, hoping this isn’t a trap.

“You look very beautiful in that picture, Miss Brittany.”

She sits back and stops pouting before quickly rubbing her fingers against her hair, that nervous tick that has stayed with her since childhood. She finally looks over at me and makes eye contact before closing her eyes and shaking her head with a half-grin upon her face.

“I think you need to have some fun tonight. It’s fetish night at a club that we go to and we’re going to get dressed up and go get drunk.”

“I don’t really think that…”

“I don’t remember saying it was optional.”

“Are you trying to dominate me now?”

“If I was, would you submit?”

“Fuck. Fuck. Fine. I’ll go, but I won’t promise to have fun.”

“With that attitude, I’m sure there will be a line of subs just dying to go home with you.”

The next few hours are spent preparing. Mistress and Brittany plan out their outfits, line up transportation, and invite the others. I perform my daily chores, taking breaks every so often to wait on them or to prepare them food.

After a while the doorbell rings. I’m surprised when Mistress answers it. I peek at the door from around the corner and watch as she receives several garment bags from her shop’s courier.

They eat an early dinner, their hair and make-up nearly done. While Mistress is always beautiful, I always find her particularly attractive when she puts in extra time preparing herself. I find myself struggling not to stare as they eat. Mistress denies me any food at dinner and I make do with a glass of water.

A bit later she summons me to her bedroom. Mistress and Brittany model their outfits for me, their matching fur-trimmed corsets with knee high boots, Mistress in black and Brittany in purple. Each wears a long leather coat with a long fur tuxedo-style trim that extends from the collar down the front to the hem. Fur headbands adorns their heads. The scent of her perfume immediately triggers a response as my sex strains against the cage.

“Isn’t he going to say anything?”

“He’s said enough. That look on his face tells me that he just attempted an erection.”

“What a little sissy pervert.”

I lower my eyes as the shame sets in.

“Come here pet, it’s time to get you ready to go.”

My adrenaline jolts as the shock and horror grasp me.

“Don’t be scared, pet. We’re not taking you out in your maid’s dress. You’re okay with wearing shorts aren’t you?”

I nod slowly and with great hesitation. I approach her slowly as she unlocks the buckles and removes me from the hellish prison of my uniform. The head harness and hat follows as Mistress discards them to the floor. I peek over her shoulder and watch as Brittany opens up one of the garment bags.

I start to kneel to present my feet to Mistress.

“No need, pet. The boots and stockings are staying.”

My breathing suddenly becomes uneven. Yes, shorts. The glimmer of hope I had for a safe evening is crushed as Brittany walks over carrying an outfit.

“You see, pet, Brittany was trying to back out of going but she promised she would go if we brought you along and she got to pick out what you would wear. This is what she chose from the shop’s sissy catalog and I had them bring one over right away.”

I cringe at the sight of it. A shiny pink one-piece hot pants style romper, cut low in the front just below the nipples and trimmed with fur all along its edges and a fluffy bunny tail on the butt. The anticipation of the humiliation that is to come boils over.

“Please, Mistress...” Her face goes stern.

“Another word and you’ll be sucking on a penis gag all night. Am I clear?”

I nod slowly as I attempt to resign myself to my fate. My hands shake as I slide myself into the suit. The internal anal plug opposite the tail provides an unwelcome surprise. I have to pause for Mistress to lube it up. She zips me up in back, adjusts a strap, and clicks the lock in place. A thick leather belt follows around my waist. She cinches it tighter until I suck my stomach in with all my might as she buckles it and locks it around my waist.

A matching furry collar makes its way around my neck. The touch of the spikes tells me this is the same design that Mistress had me wear the night my mother visited. It buckles and locks behind my neck. The final touch is a pair of leather bondage mittens. As she slides them onto my hand I feel my fingers enter individual sleeves that bunch up and restrict my finger movement. My thumbs are held tight to my palm inside as the mittens have false “dummy” thumbs on the outside. She turns back the cuffs and locks them in place.

I let out a small whimper as I look down at my hands, realizing they are useless.

“Have a seat over there. Brittany is going to do your make-up.”

I glance up at Mistress, bewildered. She’s never had me wear make-up before. A firm slap to my backside sends me scurrying.

“Your next lesson will be one in humility, pet. Give you an ounce of special treatment and you turn selfish and forget your place.”

A frown covers my face. I know that she is right and the guilt seeps in. I don’t want this.

In front of the mirror I sit motionless as I allow myself to spiral into nothingness. I am just a doll. I watch my complexion change as Brittany puts down a foundation that makes me look pasty white and pale. Her methods aren’t kind. She covers my cheeks liberally with rosy pink blush. If her goal is to make me appear permanently embarrassed she succeeds admirably.

Her skilled hands apply lip liner before coating my lips in an atrocious sparkly neon pink lipstick. She follows that up with a large amount of sparkly pink eye shadow. I struggle to keep my eyes open while she applies the eye liner and mascara. Brittany finishes with some large fur pom pom clip on earrings and a pair of large fur earmuffs that match the ensemble.

“I’m finished.”

“Let me have a look at you, pet.”

I rise and approach Mistress. Her laughter is enough of a response to make my face burn.

“Oh, pet. You look truly awful. I can’t tell if you look more like a cheap slut or a clown.”

“We could always smack him around a bit and get those tears flowing. That might tip it in one direction or the other.”

I furrow my brow. A wave of fear rushes in. I’ve learned to never underestimate the creativity of a sadist… let alone a pair of them.

“Hrm… let’s leave him as is for now. The night is young.”

“It’s a shame the others can’t make it. I’m sure little fur sissy is just dying to know what they would think of him right now.”

“Let’s take a picture. I’ll post it on my blog for them.”

“Hah. Good idea. Just one more thing.”

I stand by in horror as Brittany retrieves the final item from the garment bag. She approaches me with a long fur boa and taking my hand, she secures one end to my wrist with the attached handcuff. She runs it over my shoulders, pausing to clip it to the back of my collar and then secures the other end to my other wrist. The boa follows me as I move my arms, its tips extending about a foot past my hands. Brittany takes my shoulders and turns me to face Mistress.

“Frown for the picture, pet.”

The flash blinks, blinding me for a moment. As my vision returns I see her thumbs rapidly pressing her phone screen.

“And… it’s live.”

“I still can’t believe you post pictures of him without blacking out his face.”

I feel my chest knot tightly with anxiety. I have never seen Mistress’s blog so this is news to me.

“I doubt my pet cares. It’s not like he’s going to have to worry about a background check for a job or anything. I have him under contract for the rest of his life. Right, pet?”

I hesitate to answer immediately but I know that she is right. The only opinion that matters is hers, the rest of the world may as well not exist to me. That last voice screaming inside of me is my ego clinging to itself. I do not wish to disappoint Mistress.

I close my eyes and attempt to make peace with the situation. The touch of the fur on my bare shoulders and arms does feel rather nice. Mistress’s phone beeps.

“The car is here. Come on, pet, we’re leaving.”

“Does he have a coat or anything?”
“No coat.”

“Won’t he be cold?”

“Of course. Isn’t that a delicious bit to add to his suffering?”

I open the front door for them using both hands to turn the knob and immediately a gust of cold wind rushes directly through the thin material of the romper, chilling me to the bone. I shiver as the piercing cold stings against every bit of exposed flesh.

“Stop dawdling, pet, and get the car door for us.”

I hustle through the winter air and open the back door of the long, black car. I extend my arm and Mistress and Brittany use it for support a they climb in. Mistress stops me from closing the door.

“You’re sitting back her with us. This isn’t our usual driver and putting you in the trunk might upset him.”

I nod and climb in after them, anticipating the warmth. To my disappointment it’s only mildly warmer inside than outside. I rub my mittens up and down my arms.

“Are you cold, pet?”

I nod. She lets out a small laugh.

“I specifically requested they not to run the heater in back.”

“Umm… I’m kind of cold too, Cass.”

“My dear Brittany you are such a spoil sport.”

“It’s the middle of winter and I’m not wearing pants. Sue me.”

I watch Mistress press a button opening up the intercom.

“Driver, could you please turn the heat on back here. A low or medium setting is fine.”

“Yes, ma’am.” is his reply.

It’s a relatively short drive to the club and I continue to shake for its duration. My nerves are on fire and I feel my heart pounding. Breathing becomes a chore. I hate this.

The car slows as it pulls up to the curb. I move to open the door. The mittens make the handle a struggle and it takes several tries to finally pry it open. The cold air bites me again as we exit the vehicle. I follow them to the entrance where a thick butch stands as bouncer.

“Welcome again, Ms. C.”

Her eyes glance over at me.

“You remember the rules, right?”

“While he’s here he is my responsibility.”

Mistress removes a leash from her purse and lets it dangle by the handle.

“I need to frisk you.”

She glares at me. I feel unwelcome. I raise my arms and she handles me roughly, pushing me up against the side of the building and patting me down. I don’t know how I could hide anything in this outfit, so this is either for pleasure or show.

When the bouncer finishes, Mistress connects the leash to the front ring on my collar and leads me inside. As we walk through the door the cues stick out in a rather obvious way. Brittany grabs Mistress’s arm.

“Just what kind of bar is this, Cass?”

“A lesbian bar.”

“Yes, I can see that. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because you would have said no.”

“Oooh. I oughtta. Damn it.”

Brittany wraps herself tightly around Mistress’s arm.

“Ooh, sexy, now we look like a couple.”

She quickly releases Mistress’s arm. I can hear her making a series of noises that almost resemble speech. We find a table and Mistress and Brittany order drinks. Mistress opens the front of her coat, exposing her outfit.

“Just how did you think this would be fun for me?”

“The night is young. Give it time. Besides, everyone here knows that you’re straight.”

I watch Mistress relax as she sits upon the high chair at the raised table. Brittany looks like a deer in headlights. I allow my eyes to scan the room. It’s actually a fairly tame atmosphere from what I was expecting. The sign announcing it’s the monthly fetish night hands above the bar and a number of patrons are dressed in clothes ranging from costume-like outfits to some more standard fetish-wear. Some music plays and as the half-empty dance floor moves about. There are no signs of whips and chains or bondage furniture. It feels a bit more like a costume party.

Brittany instructs the waitress to keep the drinks coming as she rapidly downs her first few glasses. Mistress slowly nurses hers. I watch as she relaxes and surveys the room. Her public demeanor out at clubs and bars always surprises me, almost like she’s just owning the room… observing… I can never truly understand all of her complexities and nuances.

It takes maybe an hour before the first person approaches. I slowly trace her steps as she paces over from the bar. She’s dressed in black, her black hair pulled back. Her make-up is done up in dark colors, mostly blacks and purples. As she gets closer she reveals a plethora of tattoos covering the exposed parts of her upper body, neck, and arms. Her face and ears are filled with various piercings. If I had to guess her age, I would predict that she is in her early 30’s.

“Cute slave. Do you mind if I?” Her voice is deep and husky.

“Go right ahead.” Mistress holds up her hand.

I lower my eyes and try to relax as best I can. She hovers around me, keeping her face uncomfortably close to my body. I hear every shift in her breath… ever smirk… ever click of the tongue against her teeth. I feel her fingers poke and prod as her hands glide over me. I feel her pet my fur. She pats the tail, sending vibrations through the plug that fills me in. I shudder a little. Her finger tip teases my nipple. I feel my sex strain against the belt.

“That’s generous of you. Allowing this little one to wear such pretty clothes.”

I blush but I’m sure it isn’t visible through the heaped on layers of make-up. She turns her attention away from me and focuses upon Mistress.

“My name is Lynn. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“I’m Cassandra.”

Mistress holds out her hand. Lynn raises it without breaking eye contact and plants a kiss on her glove.

“Why don’t you join us, Lynn? My friend here is Brittany.”

Brittany waves with her hand.

“Ah, so the straight chick’s name is Brittany. I’ve been watching the two of you since you entered. I don’t really have any interest in your slave, I just used it as an excuse because I didn’t want to appear too forward. I absolutely love your coat.”

Mistress smiles.

“Please tell me about yourself, Lynn.”

“Well, I’m 32. I work as a piercer at a tattoo parlor. I live for pleasure. How about you? I haven’t been able to read you yet… I can’t tell if you’re here just for show or if you’re looking for something more.”

“I’m mostly here to show my friend here a good time.” Mistress pats Brittany on the shoulder.

“But I can’t really say if I’m really looking right now. I recently had a relationship end and I’m not really sure if I’m ready for another one just yet.”

“Was it because of that?” Lynn tilts her head and motions towards me.

“Yes. It was. How did you know?”

“I had a slave of my own for five years or so. He was my last boyfriend before I came out. We dabbled and it grew from there. His existence really complicated things when I started trying to date.”

“Past tense? I take it you no longer have him, did something happen?”

“I broke him to the point of boredom. It was almost like he died inside… I didn’t even feel him struggle internally anymore.”

“I sense a little bit of regret in those words. Is there something you would do differently?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t miss him but I think the tipping point was when I kept him from communicating for an entire year. No speech, no writing, no gestures, and so on. He just did what I ordered and I hit him if he screwed up. After a while I just stopped even thinking about his feelings at all. I half-expected him to resist but instead it was like he adapted… just accepted it. Eventually he was no fun at all to play with and none of the women I dated took me seriously as long as he was with me, so I got rid of him.”

Mistress displays a sly smile. Brittany is focused upon Lynn, absorbing the story.

“I’ll bet he resisted then. Did you have to take drastic measures?”

“I did. He bawled for a week after I told him it was over. He refused to leave and refused to look for a job, he just locked himself in his room and cried all day.”

“How did you lure him out?”

“I’m not sure if lure is the right word. I sold him to a gay maledom who showed up with a group of guys. They took the door off the hinges and carried him out in chains. Apparently there’s a market for broken slaves like that. Doms who want to get very rough and not feel any guilt about it.”

“Interesting. Do you hear that pet? When I get bored of you I know exactly what I will do.”

I cringe and bite my lip as my brain spirals out of control in a fear cycle. Brittany laughs her ass off before interjecting.

“Did they pay well?”

“Let’s just say it was enough to buy a car. A used car, but a car.”

“Didn’t you feel guilty? I’m assuming you loved him.”

“Loved. Past tense. I stopped loving him when there was nothing left to love. I moved on and wanted him gone. He refused.”

They continue with small-talk after this. Pleasantries. Flirtations. Mistress and Lynn exchange business cards. I sense Mistress is feeling her out. I feel a bit unsettled. A few lines catch my attention.

“Feel free to call me, anytime. Just for the record, I have no problem with you having a slave. I’m also okay with the occasional booty-call if you aren’t ready for a relationship.”

Lynn sticks out her tongue a bit and clicks its piercing against her teeth.

“Also, I think your slave could use some nipple piercings. They’re deliciously tender and with a large enough gauge you can actually fit a padlock through them.”

Mistress smirks. I wince. A little later a petite woman with short brown hair approaches the table and makes a bee line for Brittany. She is short and trim with small breasts and a leather collar around her neck. I probably wouldn’t have noticed her breasts that quickly if not for her revealing top.

“Please come dance with me.” Brittany blushes.

“I’m really flattered but I’m not...”

“Not gay. I know that but it seems like you aren’t having any fun. I’ve been watching you since you came in and it took me this long to work up the courage to come over here. One dance, just for fun. Come on.”

“Yeah, Brittany, go have some fun. Everyone else here is having fun. If you don’t go dance with this cutie I just might have to.”

Brittany shuts her eyes in response to Mistress’s prods. Her eyes slowly open as she clenches her fists.

“Fine. One dance.”

The short woman’s mouth opens into a wide smile and she takes Brittany by the hand, excitedly leading her towards the dance floor.

“I think your friend is a little bit uptight, Cassandra.”

“She’s a little high strung but a good person. She’s just trained herself to only see some things in a certain way. Once she loosens up she’s a blast.”

“Are you trying to turn her?”

“Well, I’d be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind, but I’m not forcing the issue. I mostly just took her out tonight to have fun.”

“I’d ravage her.” Lynn smiles and flicks her tongue piercing against her lip.

“So would I.”

They laugh together.

“It’s brave of you to bring a boy here dressed like that. There’s a handful of regulars that tend to take offense to that sort of thing. I’m sure they are letting things go seeing as he’s stayed glued to your side, but I wouldn’t let him wander off by himself.”

“Really? I’m surprised that gender prejudice still exists in today’s day and age. This isn’t my first time here, but it’s my first time with him.”

“You usually come with that big group in the limo, right?”

“Yes. You must have seen us before then?”

“A couple of times. It sometimes makes you seem unapproachable though.”

“I can understand that. Our clique does get a bit rowdy at times.”

“I think your friend is going for a little more than one dance.”

I look up to the dance floor. Brittany’s coat hangs upon a nearby chair and she has her arms raised, grinding in rhythm with the short-haired woman. The smile on her face indicates that she’s definitely having fun.

Before long they return to the table arm in arm, the short woman wearing Brittany’s coat. Brittany fans herself with her off hand.

“I don’t think I’ve danced that much in years.”

“Did you have fun?”

“I did, thank you, Randi.”

“Yay.”

The way that she cheers is sort of disgustingly cute.

“My ride is leaving soon. Promise me that you’ll call me.”

“I promise.”

“Just as friends. I want to get to know you better.”

“I promise.”

“Can I give you a kiss?” Brittany’s face flushes red.

“Umm, about that whole just friends thing.”

“Friends can kiss.”

“Yeah, Brittany, didn’t you tell me that you used to kiss Chloe and Courtney all the time just to tease Francis?”

Brittany’s death stare at Mistress is priceless. I can’t help but smile. Brittany pouts for a minute but then closes her eyes. Randi leans in and plants a passionate and juicy kiss on Brittany’s lips.

“You taste like peaches.” Randi’s phone beeps.

“Shit, I have to go. Seriously, promise me you’ll call me, we’ll go get coffee.”

“I promise.”

Brittany acts annoyed but as soon as Randi is out of view a wide smile forms over her face.

“I’m a little bit jealous, Brit. Can I taste the peaches?”

“I know we just met, but let’s be friends so I can try it too.”

Brittany speaks through clenched teeth.

“I’m going to fucking kill the both of you.”

“Seriously though, that girl seemed really sweet. Make sure to set boundaries so that you don’t break her heart.”

“Fuck. How did this night get so complicated all of a sudden?”

The drinks continue to flow, although the pace is a bit slower than earlier. Mistress seems to be hitting it off quite well with Lynn. Brittany continues to look a bit uncomfortable. I really wish that someone else would come and talk to her. It doesn’t take long for my wish to come true as a group of four women make their way over from the dance floor and soon surround her chair.

“Come dance with us.”

“I’m not really up for it.”

“We’re not taking ‘no’ for an answer. When you were dancing earlier you looked like you were having such a good time. Now you just look like all mopey.”

The two women on either side close their hands around her forearms.

“One song. If you aren’t having fun you can come back and mope.”

“One song. Just one. And just so you know, I’m not a lesbian.”

“Uh, duh. We know that, it’s obvious.”

They drag their semi-willing victim away. Mistress waves. One song turns into seven. Mistress continues to chat and flirt a bit with Lynn. Mostly small-talk but I can sense some mutual interest. Mistress seems more guarded than usual. Losing Barb may have hurt her more than any of us know.

Brittany returns to the table a bit later. A smile a mile wide shows on her face.

“I think I like this bar. I’ve never been around strangers that would go out of their way like that.”

Mistress just nods and smiles before looking at her phone.

“We should probably get going soon. I only have the car reserved until midnight.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I doubt Mistress would have brought me along if not for Brittany’s insistence. Ever since the ski trip, being outed in public in an uncontrolled environment makes me feel sick with anxiety unless I shut down completely.

Mistress and Lynn part with a peck on the cheek and the promise of being in contact in the future. Brittany looks wiped out. I’m sure this evening was exhausting for her as well on an emotional level. We make our way through the freezing cold to the waiting car. Mistress instructs the driver to drive to Brittany’s home but tells him to take his time.

“I have a question for you, Brittany.”

“Ask me anything except about peaches.”

“Would you be interested in moving in with me? Becoming my roommate.”

“What now?”

“You haven’t found a house yet and haven’t been having good luck with finding a sub. I was wondering if you wanted to live with me instead.”

“Could I have my own sub?”

“If you can find one. I figure my pet could serve the both of us.”

Brittany closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. My heart jumps as I’m filled with a set of confused emotions.

“Are you trying to turn me gay?”

“Of course not, although I can’t say it would be unwelcome.” Mistress laughs before continuing.

“I just worry that you will find a sub and when that happens we won’t be able to spend as much time together. I don’t usually let people in that close to me. It feels like you’re the friend I’ve always wanted but never had. A partner in crime.”

Brittany’s demeanor suddenly shifts to serious.

“I’m going to have to think about this. Will your feelings be hurt if I say ‘no’? Of course they will. I love you, Cass, but this isn’t a great spot you put me in.”

“Don’t worry about it. It was just something I thought up this evening. I’m not super invested in it.”

“Would I have to pay rent?”

Mistress laughs again.

“Only if you wanted to. Or you could just buy a new coat every month at the shop and call it even. It will be at a discount, of course.”

“Oh, you dirty bird. That’s so not fair and you know it.”

“Just another weapon in my arsenal, my dear.”

“Let me think about it, seriously.”

“Take your time.”

The car slows to a halt in front of Brittany’s apartment building.

“I can’t believe I’m going in dressed like this. I should have brought a change of clothes.”

Mistress laughs. Brittany waves and departs. Mistress rolls down the window and calls out.

“Sleep tight, peaches!”

I hear a distant “Fuck!” drift in as the car drives away. At home Mistress leads me to the bedroom and sits me down in front of the mirror.

“Oh my pet. You look just terrible. Do you want to hear what my blog readers have said about you?”

I shake my head no. She reads them anyways.

“domn8or wrote ‘Those pretty pink lips would look good wrapped around my cock.’”

“QueenOfMean76 wrote, ‘I’m lubing up my strap-on. That ass looks good enough to fuck.’”

“sissyslutteresa89 wrote, ‘Where can I get that outfit? My clitty is hard.’”

“MsDominique666 wrote, ‘I’ll expect him to be dressed like that the next time I come over.’”

I shudder a bit as Mistress laughs. She puts down her phone and begins her lesson in make-up removal.

END ACT