Third Life
Third Life
Roselynn didn’t like looking in mirrors, even capture mirrors. There had been changes in her body and she did not think them flattering. But she was meeting Lew and she wanted to look her best for him. She stood there with a frown on her face as she assessed herself. She tugged at the fabric of her clothing. She wanted to get the hang of her shirt right. Then she turned and looked over her shoulder at her rear view. The jeans were tight fitting and accented the swell of her hips and the roundness of her bottom. The jeans held her firm.
A voice in her head said, “I always felt that a woman in a dress looked the most feminine.” She considered the voice. She heard it in her brain. She felt it in her heart. She couldn’t have it there right now. She squelched it.
“Not now,” she said to herself.
This was an important evening. It was a third evening date and it was going to result in the conversation. It had changed from the historical, third date expectations about sex. Now, it was a serious conversation about lives.
Roselynne clicked capture on the mirror and turned away from it. She waited the three seconds and then the mirror captured her image which it would only click away or store on her command. She studied it.
The voice again, “You have a beautiful ass.”
She smiled in spite of herself and then made that voice stop. She clicked the mirror and stood full-frontal and pushed her chest out. She forced herself to smile. It wasn’t her natural smile, the one that was often followed by giggling. It was a studied smile. She waited the three seconds and then examined the image, manipulating her facial muscles as she did.
Suppose he didn’t like this look? Suppose she should wear a dress. She asked for the time. A chippy British voice informed her that she had 85 minutes left on her timer. She could try the dress.
Seventy minutes later, after she tried the dress, discarded it and went back to the jeans, she applied her makeup. Just a hint of rouge to her cheeks, which she blended in and then some pale, pink lipstick that had a slight taste of tropical fruit that she knew he liked. She wanted him to enjoy the taste of her.
The chirpy voice said, “You have a call from Lew.”
“Hi,” she said sounding cheerful and not at all apprehensive.
“I should be coming by to collect you in about five minutes if you’ll be ready.”
She flushed, her cheeks became more pink. “Yes, I’ll be waiting.”
“Alright then,” he said.
“I’m excited,” she blurted.
She heard a soft laugh.
“I’m looking forward to tonight,” he answered.
He was preparing dinner. He was very good with food and that was impressive. Roselynne was not a great cook. She could bake but cooking was outside of her current interests. She always told herself that it was because cooking for one was no fun. She wondered if maybe that was going to change.
In 2059, immortality became possible but not for everyone. The world, that she hoped he also inhabited, was one that would allow a person to create a clone of himself or herself. They could age the clone and could inject into any point on the life continuum that they wished. It was the closest they would ever come to forever. It was almost like time travel. But the truth was that you could never go back, you could only go forward. It made it possible for a person to live many lives.
This was Roselynn’s third life. Her first had been a nightmare of mistakes and abuses. Although she wanted to forget it, there were scars. They weren’t on her body; they were inside of her. She hated them but could not rid herself of them.
Her second life had been better. There were times when she had thought that it was the only life that she ever wanted. There were times when she still felt that way, but she was ready for something new and there was no going back.
The voice again, “We are all in the same river but we need to flow with the currents. They will sweep us away if we don’t” Damn him! Why did he have to say such beautiful and impossible things.
That voice almost brought a tear to her eye but she made sure that didn’t happen. She didn’t want to ruin her makeup and what would Lew think if he saw that she had been crying. She did not want to bring her confusion to him. He was too nice for that. He didn’t deserve that. But how could she be honest and not tell him?
She told herself that he might have past lives too. She hoped that he was not a “one and doner.” Those people had resisted the notion multiple lives. They believed that God had given them one life and that it was an insult to their creator to want more. It was greedy.
Roselynne wondered if she was greedy. She didn’t want to be greedy, but she did want to be happy. Making this work was a way to happiness.
She waited. She heard his car approach and straightened herself one more time. Then she went outside to see Lew. She told herself she looked as good as she was going to look and then the voice.
“You are a beautiful woman inside and out. Any man would be lucky to have you. I am as lucky as I can be.”
It made her smile and then the smile vanished. She had to stop that voice. She did not know how. She did know how, but she was afraid to do it. There was a way to have it removed. Taken out of her. But that voice was a comfort. It gave her confidence. She wasn’t sure she could do this without that voice, and she wasn’t sure that she could do this with the voice. She felt stuck, but then she saw Lew and the smile that she had practiced in front of the mirror was now on her face. She could do this.
“You can do anything,” said the voice, but she didn’t listen.
Dinner was a surprise. She had expected he would cook, but he ordered take away Chinese. He said it was so they could both relax and talk.
Before she could work her way into the conversation Lew asked her right off, “Have you had other lives?”
She swallowed and flushed. It was gonna happen just like that?
“I have,” she said.
The voice again. It said, “Your turn.”
She hesitated. Her stomach flipped.
Her voice was smaller than she wanted, “Have you?”
Now it was his turn to hesitate. He said, “I hope to.”
Roselynne felt more confusion. He was young enough to want children. The law was that multi-lifers were not allowed to have children unless they had them in their first life. It was because of chromosomal degradation. The chromosomes were intact, but they did not pass on intact eggs and sperm. What was that going to mean?
Roselynn nodded. She wanted to ask the next question but she didn’t know how to phrase it. It was personal. She was always unsure about asking for personal information.
Lew studied her. Her medium length brown hair covered her face because she kept her head tilted slightly forward. But her face was a pretty one. Her body seemed so sensual when she moved. She was not stiff or jerky in her motions. He watched her take another long swallow of wine and noticed that she was drinking more than she was eating. He wondered if she liked to drink.
Roselynn heard the voice again. This time it said, “You only get to know the things that you are brave enough to ask.”
She listened that time. The voice was right. She felt that it usually was, but sometimes it was too difficult. She looked up and found eyes. They were kind eyes. He would understand her question.
Roselynn said, “Are you accepted?”
By the New Lives laws, he had to be accepted and the Commission was very choosy about new members. There was no way for them to approve everyone who wanted to enter the program. The birth rate had dropped. The Commission was dedicated to not having a negative birthrate. That meant that some people had to keep having babies.
“My application is still pending,” said Lew. “It has been for the last year.”
Roselynn wasn’t able to have children. She had developed a medical condition that could have been life threatening without the removal of her ability to reproduce. She had decided that she did not wish to store eggs for future use when she had the surgery. That condition and her artistic nature had smoothed the way for her. The Commission had categories of people who they thought would be best for the Multiple Lives Program. Artists were held in high esteem.
Then Lew said, “I already have two children.”
Roselynne smiled her natural smile, the one that brightened her face and seemed to create a glow that exuded warmth and interest. “Please tell me about them,” she said.
Lew explained that he had been married in a conventional relationship. He said that his children were living with his ex with whom he was on amicable terms. His ex had moved on and was with another partner. “They are 7 and 9 years old,” said Lew. “A boy named Zeke and a girl named Holly.”
She watched his face and looked for clues as he spoke about them. His eyes stayed kind but he was a little stingy with details. She was hoping that he would go on speaking. It would remove the necessity of her talking. She liked to listen more than she liked to talk. That was true with men anyway. With other women, she could be chatty and silly and gossip. She didn’t do that much around men. At least not all men. She listened for the voice, but this time it was silent. That was unnerving. She drank more wine.
Lew reached across the table for her hand. “Does that disturb you?”
His hands were larger than hers. Everyone’s hands were larger than hers, and she felt a rush at the feeling of physical contact with him.
There was the voice, “He’s arousing you.”
Roselynne wasn’t sure that she was ready to be aroused. She poured another glass of wine and drank what was more of a gulp than a swallow.
She wished that he had ordered chicken, but he hadn’t asked her what she would like. He had just ordered for them both. She liked that. It made her feel spoken for. She saw his eyes gaze downward to her breasts, and instinctively, she straightened so that he would like what he saw. Then the feeling of arousal again. She drank more wine.
The rest of the night was a blur. Roselynne got dizzy and then she got sick. Lew let her sleep it off in a spare room at his house. She woke mortified and sure that she had screwed everything up. She kept apologizing to him for ruining an important night. But then he said something that warmed her like the summer sun.
“If you were that nervous maybe you weren’t ready for the experience.”
That was something the voice from her other life would have said. It was comforting and unsettling at the same time.
There were guidelines that were supposed to be followed by participants in the Multiple Lives program. Each life could be as long as a forty-year commitment, but extenuating circumstances could change that. That had happened with her first life. That was what caused her to enter the program. Usually, a person as young as she had been was not eligible.
She came from a religious family. At first, they had not been supportive of her decision, but their love for her was stronger than their beliefs. They came to accept their differences in approach. It ceased to be important when they saw how much more at ease Roselynne had become in her body.
The River Mersey flows into the Irish Sea. Roselynne and Lew walked along the sand dunes at Crosby Beach. Physically and emotionally their relationship was deepening. They had simply detoured around the rest of the conversation and talked about what was happening at the moment. The talk was easy and felt good. She had to look up at him as they walked and she liked that.
Lew said, “How does it feel to have other lives?”
Roselynne considered. She still wasn’t sure how much she could share. How much she was able to share… “It was awful, it is wonderful. It is complicated.” Internally, she gasped. She had used the present tense. Maybe he wouldn’t pick up on it. But she did.
Lew didn’t seem to hear anything unusual. Most people wouldn’t, but that voice had taught her to pay attention to every word. She was almost disappointed that he didn’t notice.
They held hands and laughed as Roselynne’s little pup Laurie wagged her tail. She ran to the water until it touched her paws and then romped back, as if to them about the experience. On the fourth or fifth try, Laurie got brave and plunged in. Roselynne felt an automatic pang of worry. She didn’t swim. She watched hard and hoped Laurie was better at it.
“The other lives stay with you. You don’t forget them. It is almost like you are still living them but you aren’t.”
Along the beach there was a song playing from a small radio. She knew the song. It was called, Love Knows. She couldn’t stop the tear. This was crazy. She was happy. What was she crying about?
When a multi-lifer moved to a new life, it was often a preference to change the people from the former life. Earlier, those who had chosen to return as children realized that they found the loss of control destabilizing. It caused emotional issues. Most now settled on twenty-five as the point at which they wished to restart everything.
While she did not want anything at all as a memory from life number one, she still decided to keep those memories. She told herself it was so that she did not make the same mistakes again.
Richard had been brutal with her. He had convinced her that she was nothing, isolated her from her family and friends. He took delight in watching her suffer and struggle to please, which he never allowed her to think that she did. Those had been the worst five years of her lives. Then he kicked her to the curb, ruined her finances and left. She had to crawl home like a wounded animal. It frightened her about the world. It frightened her deeply. She saw herself crying shaking and screaming and each she saw it; it was like it was happening all over again.
That was when she started reading more about multiple lives. She was sure that she would never qualify. She had no opinion of herself of any value. Sure, she could draw a little and she loved designing little pieces of art. She did not see that they had much value. She even felt guilty about spending her time making them. Then she got sick and had a hysterectomy.
Her therapist was the first person to tell her about her opportunities for multiple lives. While she was recovering in the hospital, she was given the necessary tests and interviews. To her astonishment, she was accepted.
She explained all of this to Lew who sat there serious and attentive. His face darkened when she talked about what Richard had done to her. She felt his body coil and muscles tighten. It was a very strong male reaction and it thrilled her.
“That’s a sad story,” said Lew. “I don’t know how anyone could get satisfaction from treating you that way.”
Roselynne bit hard on her lip to keep from saying anything. Then she said vaguely, “He was mean inside in his heart.”
“What was your second life like?” asked Lew.
Roselynne felt an instant hot flush rush through her. “Can we talk about that another time?” she asked. “I think I have been in the sun long enough.”
They held hands as they walked along the shore. The sand dunes led to the sea. For a while, she stared at out the sea and what was across it. Then she looked up at Lew and smiled. They kissed. She molded her body to his. She held her mouth open in a small O and invited his tongue. They were excited to get back to her flat as fast as possible. Laurie now accepted when she was being locked out of the bedroom. She curled up on the couch and waited. The love making was tender and sweet.
Afterwards they ate food that he had prepared and stored in her refrigerator while they were out. While he readied the food he said, “Now would be a good time to tell me about life number two.”
She smiled and said, “If you really want to hear, I will.”
Lew shaved a carrot and said, “I really want to hear.”
“It started out great, but then those fears that I hadn’t eliminated were still really strong. Stronger than I expected them to be. I was afraid. I had a subsistence income that was sort of guaranteed by Multiple Lives, but it was barely enough to get by. I just couldn’t bring myself to go out without being apprehensive and a bit frightened. I went into MetaCafe.”
MetaCafe was the current iteration of what used to be known as virtual reality. Now they were almost indistinguishable. There was taste, tactile sensation, and smell along with sight and sound and an avatar which was incredibly lifelike.
“I met a man there. I found him attractive, intimidating, and handsome. He is smart and a really creative person. We bonded in a very special way and then I got slammed by a long-term side effect of injection that is rare. My blood stopped recognizing itself as being mine.
I was very sick. I needed a lot of transfusions and eventually stem cell therapy.”
Lew interrupted. “I thought that a terminal illness was a reason for another life? I thought that was guaranteed.”
“It is,” said Roselynne. “But the definition of terminal has become very bureaucratic. They really require that you stay for at least ten years, like it or not.”
“I didn’t realize that was the way it was,” said Lew. His face showed doubt.
“This man stayed with me the entire time. He became a huge part of my world and my life. He helped me. He helped me so much!”
Roselynne felt her lip begin to quiver. Images, that were not images of where she was, were firing in her mind with the speed of a pulsar. She felt herself shake. She managed composure.
Roselynne said, “I’m sorry. I just got carried away by one of those runaway trams that can roar through your mind.”
Lew asked, “Did you ever meet this man for real?”
Roselynne involuntarily looked askance a moment and wanted to say that it was very real each time they met, but his voice again. “Don’t expect other people to understand.”
“He came to England and I couldn’t manage it.”
“He came to England to meet you and you said yes and then, no?” Lew was drawn in by the story.
“That’s pretty much what happened,” said Roselynne. Then she added, “He was doing other things here as well.”
And now it was time for Lew to leave for work. They kissed. He said a sweet goodbye to Laurie.
Roselynne worried about what she had said and about what she hadn’t said. Everything that she told him was true. She had just left out quite a few important details.
In the back of Roselynne’s closet, she found the things that she had decided to keep from her second life. She stared at her box of toys with fondness. They had been so important. Then she found her Metaskin. It was a thin form fitting layer that almost became a second skin. Once it was on, you could barely feel it. She put on her head set and did something that she had debated doing since her third life began. She entered the place that had mostly been her world for the ten years that she had to keep her former body.
She knew where to find him. It was Saturday night and he would be playing music for other people. She went into the club and there he was. He wasn’t standing in back of his music table, which she found unusual. He always stood, but tonight he was sitting. Quietly, and from the corner she opened a private speaking line. She waited until a new song started and said simply, “Hi.”
The response was almost instant. His voice was soft, “Hi, beautiful flower.”
She waited, unsure of what to say. Then, he said, “This is a surprise I did not expect to see you. How are you? Is everything ok?”
She stammered. “I just missed you. I need to talk to you.”
He laid in the recorded tape he used when he wanted the show to continue, but needed to concentrate on something else. It would run an hour of songs that he had prepared for the occasion. Most of the patrons there would never know the difference between his live work and this live to tape that he regularly produced as a back-up.
“Come sit with me,” he said.
When she got closer, she found herself dropping to her knees and hugging his legs. “I missed you.”
“You don’t ever have to miss me,” he said. “I made it so you could always find me if you needed to.”
“How do I do this?” Roselynne said. “How do I get this new man to love me the way that you do?”
She told him about Lew, but she could not bring herself to let go of his legs until he took her arms away and sat her on his lap. She could feel the warmth of him on her skin. She inhaled his scent. The sound of his voice was doing what it always did.
She asked, “If I brought him here, would you talk to him?”
“If that’s what you really want,” he said.
“I don’t know what I really want,” she said. “I want him but I am so confused and I hear your voice in my head all the time. Would you talk to him for me?”
They had this talk so many times as he prepared her for her third life. She knew that he hated seeing her go. They both knew that she should. She needed this new life and now she was ready for it.
He kissed her. It was a long slow kiss that started out tender and then became deeply passionate. She felt it all through her skin like electricity. She had wanted to feel it again and then out of nowhere, it happened. An orgasm that was both sweet and so ferociously strong that it vibrated her entire being.
He felt it as the spasm came in waves. Its aftershocks run through her body from just that single kiss. Then he stood her up, flattened his palm and slapped her bottom with a sting that was followed by that warmth that she missed, that she craved.
“You could teach him,” said Roselynne aware that she was asking him to do something that would be very difficult for him.
He smiled. “I think you should teach him.”
“I can’t. No one understands me the way that you do.”
“You can. You can do anything.”
“Can I please keep coming to see you?”
She could not see the tears in his eyes. “Roselynne, there is absolutely no one in this world that I would rather see.”
Cathy, Leigh and Casey
Cathy, Leigh and Casey
Cathy
“He told me not to do it and I did it anyway,” said Cathy. Her long hair was tied in a ponytail that bounced between her shoulder blades when she walked.
“What did you do?” said Leigh.
“He’s going to be so angry. I want to go to bed and not see him.”
“You can’t do that! He told us to wait here. What did you do?” Leigh had not seen Cathy this nervous before. She was senior. She had been with him the longest and Leigh had not ever seen her be other than confident. She looked to Cathy to explain things to her, to keep her out of real trouble and to get her into fun trouble.
“I couldn’t make my rent and I could not ask him for money again. I just can’t do that anymore. It makes me feel like I can’t manage anything. So, I asked if he would mind if I did some porno on cam and he said ‘no, definitely not’ and I did it anyway.”
“You did cam? How was it? Tell me everything!” Leigh had been taught to wiggle when she was excited and the lessons were taking root. Cathy smiled when she saw the shimmy of Leigh’s hips as she settled in to listen. She was excited and Cathy was just scared to death.
“It was nothing really, not erotic at all. I took off my clothes and did what they told me to do.”
“Did they pay you?”
“Yes, I got paid. Guess that makes me a real whore now.”
“You’re not a whore! You just did what you felt you had to do. He will understand.”
“I’m not so sure. You’ve never disobeyed him. I have. It is awful and I deserve it to be awful. I screwed up bad.”
“What are you going to do?” said Leigh. Cathy’s nervousness had infected her and they were both fidgeting now.
“I feel like he’s going to know as soon as he sees me and that will be terrible because he will start with his questions.”
“Maybe we can distract him. Maybe we can both say we need him so badly and missed him so much… That could work.”
“I have to tell him and beg him to punish me. There’s no choice about that.”
For a moment her interior voice, the one that was she kept hidden, scolded her. That voice said that she was a grown woman and had the right to do whatever she wanted to do. She was not married. Anything she said to him did not have to be real. It was only real if she wanted it to be. Then she felt herself saying that she did want it to be real. That it was real. Maybe it was the most real thing that she had.
Leigh reached for her hand and Cathy automatically looked at her. Her smooth rounded skin, her happy dimples that always felt so reassuring. Cathy squeezed her hand. “I want him to forgive me and I don’t want to tell him and I have to tell him.”
Leigh smiled and squeezed her hand back. “Maybe I could distract him with a belly dance.”
Cathy said, “You just want him to fuck you.”
Her dimples deepened when she grinned. “Well yeah, that too.”
Then Casey was there. His voice low and soft. His hair long and spread over his shoulders. His eyes green and penetrating.
Automatically, they both got on their knees. “Hi Master.”
Casey looked them both over approvingly. They were naked as he wished them at home. They were there. They looked to him for so many things and providing them made Casey feel good. The relationship was unusual. Without their expressions of submission and his expressions of dominance, it could not work. Their willingness and need for him aroused him endlessly and with what seemed an ever increasing degree of passion and the need for exploration.
His eyes fell on Cathy. She had been with him for seven years now. He was obsessed with her. It was her who had satisfied his needs and pushed him to go deeper with them because they were satisfying her needs as well. She loved it when he hurt her physically. She loved it when he scolded her sometimes. But she felt so free to love these things happily because he never tortured her emotions. He never ever was callous to her, except when she needed him to be. Sometimes he was lovingly unreasonable. That was what Cathy responded to secretly and her response was so strong.
Gradually, she began to see other girls more sexually. That had begun when friends were naughty and then it took off when she took a leap and started asking him to let her watch him dominate other girls. To know that he dominated them and loved her helped her to love them.
He met Leigh while giving a tour of a learning Center that he built along with Cathy and some other people. He liked Leigh because she was brash and talkative and wildly over confident to cover her insecurities. Like Casey, she had found success professionally by being really good at what she did and like Casey she was a seeker. They became friends and drifted in and out of each other’s lives. They had a couple of attraction-based interactions because it was the nature of their environment. They were both pretty sure that they were ill suited, and besides Casey had Cathy.
Now they were kneeling in front of Casey, heads raised and eyes lowered, backs straight and thighs spread for him. Casey asked, “Have you been good girls?”
Cathy immediately had to try to fight back tears and squirmed. He saw it. He knew every inch of her and he knew her body language. He turned his eyes to Leigh and she said, almost a bit too fast, “Yes Master.”
His eyes moved back to Cathy. “Look at me,” he said softly.
When she raised her eyes, the tears filled them. She hadn’t wanted that. It angered her and her lip lower lip quivered. “I have to tell you something.”
Casey relaxed. “Ok, tell me.”
“I disobeyed you. I made a terrible mistake. I am sorry. Please punish me. Please, I can’t bear it. Please punish me.” Then Cathy fell forward to her belly and wrapped her arms around his legs. She wanted to kiss his feet but he lifted her chin and held it on his finger. What did you do?”
“Please punish me,” she blubbered.
“I need to know what you did.” His voice had a cold tinge to it that scared her.
“I couldn’t make my rent and I needed money and so I did a cam show, Master. I’m so sorry.”
He looked deep into her like a searchlight and then moved his hand from her chin. Her head dropped.
“Didn’t we talk about this?”
“Yes Master.”
“Didn’t I say that you could not and that I would give you what you needed?”
“Yes Master.”
“And you did it anyway?” His voice dropped almost to a whisper.
“I’m sorry, Master.”
“Don’t call me that,” said coldly.
His words caused shock in both girls.
“Master please,” cried Cathy.
“I said you are not allowed to call me that. Are you doing to be disobedient again?”
Cathy cried pitifully, tears running down her cheeks and dripping onto her breasts. She couldn’t stop them. She whimpered, “Please!”
“Turn and face the wall and think about why you have been such a disobedient girl. Come up with an answer for me if you ever want to call me Master again. Otherwise, you have a new life as a cam girl to look forward to.”
Cathy wailed, “Please!”
“How many people did you spread for …was it one, five, did you go for more?”
“It was three, I did three sessions to make my rent.”
“Easy money huh? And so much more fun than asking me.”
Cathy just cried and Casey left her that way saying as he turned, “And cover your ass. I don’t want to see it.”
Then he just went into his study and closed the door.
Leigh tied a bath towel around her waist because Cathy was afraid to move and Casey wanted her backside covered. Leigh told her it looked ok but it really looked a little pathetic kneeling like that facing a blank wall. Leigh was nervous and did not know what to do. She knew that having a conversation with Cathy was not a good idea. He had said that he wanted Cathy to think, as if she could do anything else. Leigh felt lucky and at the same time nervous and at the same time excited to see what would happen next.
Cathy knelt as still as she could and did cleansing breaths, in through her nose and then slowly out of her mouth. The way he had taught her to breathe to calm down after she had gotten so excited that her heart was beating hard and fast. It worked then but that was also because her was holding her and whispering in her ear that she should breathe for him.
She tried to feel like she was breathing for him now. She knew that if he did not punish her and forgive her that she could not stand it. In spite of all that, or because of it, her mind pictured her doing the cam sessions. At first, she tried to force them out of her thoughts, but she couldn’t. There was Andrew who wanted her to play with herself and shake her tits and say he was the best and she needed him right now. She had done it and she had gotten wet doing it. She pushed that image away. Suppose he asked her if she had gotten wet? What would she say? Maybe just not mention it unless he asked.
Felix wanted her to suck on a banana that still had the skin on it and then bite off the head and peel it with her teeth while he jerked-off. Then she had to mash it on her face while he laughed at her. Cathy wanted him pay more because she said that it ruined her blouse. He gave her a nice tip.
Arthur just wanted to look inside of her vagina and made her put the cam between her legs and spread herself. He asked if she had a speculum and she even blushed when she thought about what he wanted to do with that. She apologized and said that she didn’t. She couldn’t see him. Felix was the only one who wanted her to watch him jerk-off.
Her knees stiffened and throbbed. She wanted to move badly and she was so thirsty. Then she heard his door open and his footsteps. He held a bottle of water in front of her face for a full moment. Her heart started beating hard again. The silence. “Drink,” the voice was as soft and warm as she ever remembered it.
She drank in a long swallow. Then he tipped the bottle away from her lips.
“Sit for me.”
She started to say, “Thank you, Master,” but caught herself awkwardly at the “Mas” and cried again.
“Say my name,” he spoke soft but the tone was distant.
She looked at him, panic in her eyes, not able to do it. “Please no, please don’t make me.”
He pursed his lips and did not answer. He got up and called Leigh. Instinctively Leigh crawled to them. She had been watching, her heart was breaking for Cathy. He wouldn’t do this if he wasn’t going to forgive her, would he?
“Stay with Cathy tonight, I’ll be sleeping alone.”
The room was darkened except for night lights that Casey had plugged into some of the electrical outlets. They glowed in the otherwise dark room. It was quiet except for Cathy’s quiet sobbing.
Leigh gave her a tissue. Her eyes were swollen. Her nose was bright red and dripping a little.
Cathy took the tissue and blew her nose but it seemed too loud in the quiet room and it startled her.
“What am I going to tell him?” said Cathy.
Leigh brushed back her tangled hair. “Just say how sorry you are and how much you need him. I think that’s what he wants.”
“He’s going to make me say everything. You know how he is. He’s going to want every detail. It will be so humiliating!”
“He has a right to know,” said Leigh.
“I know. But what if he doesn’t want me anymore? I can’t face that.”
Leigh felt herself grin in spite of the situation. “You disabled the cam, right?”
“Yes,” she said emphatically. “I am never ever doing that again. It was horrible.”
“I have to ask something,” said Leigh. “Because I know he will ask and you have to be prepared.”
“Ask anything,” said Cathy, feeling more than a little helpless.
“If it was so horrible, why did you do it three times?”
“Oh God, he’s going to ask that, isn’t he?”
“He’s also going to ask if you orgasmed.” Leigh caught hold of her eyes. “Did you?”
Cathy blushed hard and immediately. “Leigh, it was thrilling in a disgusting kind of way. They just told me what to do and I did it. And then I heard Master’s voice in my head telling me what a slut I was and it was too much. I came so hard.” She began to sob again. “He’s not going to want me anymore.”
Leigh held her. “I love you. You know I do. What do we do if he comes back and says he is releasing you?”
Cathy’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’ll die.”
Casey sat cross-legged in the room. He was staring out the window into the night. The breeze moved the branches of the trees and the leaves fluttered.
Did he have the right to do this? Should he have this much control over what anyone did? Was that him being incredibly selfish to expect her total obedience? Sure, she said that’s what she wanted, but was it possible? Could he ever really expect either of them to be his? Maybe this was all wrong. Maybe he was an arrogant asshole. But she told him she needed this and he wanted to give it to her. It wasn’t conventional but it worked for them. It would damage her if he left her and it was because he made it that way. He wanted it that way. His truth was that he needed it that way. What did that say about him? She must be so tired of having no money. Being broke can make you feel worthless and how was he supposed to convince her that she wasn’t worthless if the only way she could get money was to ask him? He needed to help her earn money on her own. But did that mean she would need him less? Maybe she wouldn’t need him at all. Maybe that’s the way this should turn out for her.
It would fuck Leigh up royally if he sent Cathy away. She might even go with her. He’d been alone before. He didn’t like it but it was more simple. Then one of Cathy’s sobs made its way through the door and he felt a pang. He loved her. He loved Leigh. He needed them. But suppose they thought him weak for not just throwing her out on her ass? Suppose they lost respect for him? That would even be worse. He should have seen this coming. What was the code that he held himself too? Once a girl submits whatever happens next is on him. That was easy enough to say but did he believe it? He had to. This was how they each choose to live. He would find some way to be strong and forgive her in the morning. This was no good for anyone. Then Casey felt his resolve harden. She should really have known better. This wasn’t a small slip up. She brought unwanted guests into their world. Were they unwanted? Or did she actually want this to happen?
Cathy drifted in and out during the night. Leigh fell into a deep sleep and Cathy listened to the in and out of her breathing, while keeping her ears perked for any sound coming from behind the door he closed.
She must have drifted because when she felt herself awaken, she felt his presence and then she could smell his presence. She opened her eyes to see him sitting there studying her face.
“Do you really want me to forgive you or is there something else?”
At the sound of his voice, Leigh was awake but squeezed her eyes shut and hoped they would not notice her.
“I want you to forgive me more than anything,” again that pause because she dare not complete the sentence.
“Are you sure it isn’t something else?”
“I’m so sure there is nothing else,” she said
“Nothing?”
“Nothing, Master” she said it and thought immediately about taking it back but she didn’t.
“If you ever do it again, there will be no choice,” he said, looking deep into her.
“Please punish me,” she begged.
“Don’t you feel punished?”
“It’s horrible, Master.”
“Then you have learned your lesson, haven’t you?”
A voice inside of her wailed, No, No, please hurt me, please. Her eyes filled with tears instead. She didn’t think that this would be it. She needed the release. That was the only way that she could feel clean again.
“I came for them,” she blurted.
His face did not change expression. “I know.”
“Please make it go away.”
His voice was so soft. “No.”
Then he got up and walked to Leigh twined his left hand into her hair and spanked her hard with his bare right hand. “Don’t you dare pretend to be asleep,” said Casey.
Leigh
It was Wednesday and Leigh couldn’t wait any longer. She only saw Casey and Cathy from Friday to Sunday and by today she felt so pent up that she was about to burst. She had a limit. She was allowed two private orgasms during the time that she was not with them. She was required to tell him about anything beyond that. Sometimes it amused Casey to hear about those. She would have to describe them to him while he used Cathy’s mouth. Anything beyond the two and she would be in trouble, not bad trouble, fun trouble. The only hitch was that if he felt she was taking advantage of that, fun trouble could become bad trouble. She didn’t want that.
She was no longer allowed to have her own vibrator at her house. Casey wanted them with him. He told her that would also keep her from getting into bad trouble. Sometimes she cheated with the base of her electric toothbrush but he didn’t have to know that. What she used to help her was porn. With the porn and her fingers, she could get by.
Leigh was surfing the internet for porn that she liked when a title made her freeze. “Cathy Cums” it read. It couldn’t be her Cathy. It was a common name. Besides none of these people used their real names anyway. Leigh clicked on it and sat there in shock when she saw Cathy’s face and Cathy’s body. She was playing with herself and shaking her breasts and saying how much she needed the men who were watching. Leigh was immediately excited and aroused and very scared. She watched it and then she watched it again and her orgasms came fast and they were very strong. She imagined herself to be Cathy. Then she imagined herself to be there watching Casey make Cathy perform. She couldn’t stop looking at it.
She slept hard that night. In the morning she watched it again and couldn’t help playing with herself that time too. Then she got dressed and went to work. What was she going to do? Cathy didn’t like porn. Casey didn’t care for it either. Maybe neither of them would ever see it. Could she make believe like she had just not seen it?
Leigh was energized. There was really only one choice. She would have the site take that clip down. Then she could not tell anyone anything. She was sure that it was the best thing that she could do for them. Leigh had the kind of professional position that allowed her to delegate responsibility. In this case, she arranged to have her duties covered by two assistants who saw this as her giving them an opportunity to show what they could do. It allowed her the freedom to track down this website. It was not the easiest task but Leigh knew that what she needed to do was follow the exchange of revenue sources. Money usually left a trail.
By two o’clock that afternoon she had an address and a phone number. Then Leigh took a risky step. She posed as an investor. Her financials supported her claim. Money was never her issue. Web Hub was a holding company that was traded privately but considered hungry. Leigh went to her address and found a typical corporate set up. She was comfortable and in her element. In her conversation with the sales rep, she secured a list of the smaller places that contributed to Web Hub.
Tracking that down was more difficult but by Thursday Leigh was in the office of Abagail Southern. She was an attractive fortyish woman, tall with red hair that had highlights of grey that gave her a shimmering quality. “How can I help you, Miss Kitwell?”
“Call me Leigh, please.”
Abagail smiled, professionally, “How can we help you?”
“I am thinking of investing in WebHub and I saw that this was one of its internet companies.”
“Yes, we are,” said Abagail.
“I’ve done a little bit of a dive on the liability and I notice that you sometimes repost user content from private exchanges.” Leigh was choosing her words carefully
“I’m not totally sure, but yes that would be covered by the user’s acceptance of the terms and provisions section when they first subscribe.” Abagail clasped her hands on her desk.
Leigh thought to herself she had come this far, she might as well. “Suppose a user wanted to take it back or take it down?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. We surely get enough new content. In that case the user would just have to contact us and that would be the end of it.” Abagail removed her large, dark framed glasses. “Did you have someone or something specific in mind?”
Leigh felt her confidence evaporating. She fidgeted slightly. “Nothing really, due diligence only.”
It wasn’t until Friday afternoon that Leigh saw Cathy. Their routine was to meet at Casey’s house and clean up and then wait for him as he wished them, naked. Leigh stored her bag in their room and found Cathy. She was sitting on the couch with a small valise of paints and a set of oars that she had decided to decorate with a Celtic pattern.
Leigh and Cathy kissed. It was a long loving kiss, their first of the weekend. Leigh took Cathy’s hands. “That time you did the cam videos, one of them is on a porn website.”
Cathy let go of Leigh’s hands, brushed her hands through her hair. It was her gesture. Her face looked quizzical. “What? No, it isn’t! That’s not funny Leigh.”
Leigh looked into her eyes. “I wouldn’t joke about this. You signed a release when you joined the site. The good news is that they will take it down but you have to call them.”
Cathy twisted her hair into a tight ponytail. “Oh God. This isn’t over. It’s never going to be over. How did you find out?”
Leigh looked a little sheepish now. “I told you I like porn. I saw it.”
Cathy brought her hands to her mouth as her reaction set in. “Oh my God.”
Leigh couldn’t resist a smirk. “I watched it three times. You were so hot.”
“Oh no, no. Does Master know?”
“I haven’t told him, but I’ve learned to stop trying to guess what he knows.”
“It’s on there for anyone to see? My face and everything? Did they use my name?”
Leigh tried to take her hands again. “It’s called Cathy Cums.”
“Fuck!” shrieked Cathy.
“You are very erotic. I couldn’t stop looking at it. You know how your thighs quiver when you cum and your hips just hump like you are a bucking horse.”
“Leigh!”
“I Think Master will be hard as a rock,” speculated Leigh.
“It’s going to remind him that I disobeyed him. Things have just gotten back to the way they were. Will you help me take it down?”
Leigh smiled. “Of course I will. I have the phone number right here. All you need is your sign-in information and to tell them that you want it taken down.”
Abagail Southern was not totally surprised when Cathy’s call came. The number she had given Leigh was her direct, private line. That made it easy to add things up. “Of course, we can help you. But I have to tell you something. I’ve had more than thirty requests for more of you. This could be a money maker for both of us.”
Cathy felt shocked. “No, I understand. I just want it pulled from the site. My Master, ah I mean my husband would really get angry.”
“I understand totally.” Abagail took down the information and then said, “Just one more question?”
“Yes?” said Cathy
“Is your friend Leigh Kitwell with you now?”
Cathy froze and the word, “Yes,” seemed to slip right out of her mouth, the way it sometimes happened with master.
“Could you put her on please?”
Cathy passed the phone to Leigh with a quizzical expression between bewilderment and disbelief.
“Hello,” said Leigh.
“I was just wondering if you had a master as well, Miss Kitwell.”
Leigh sat there stunned to a bit of silence. Then she said, “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“No matter,” said Abagail brightly. “Please tell Cathy that we will honor her request.”
When Casey came home both girls were waiting more than a little nervously. He smiled his usual look of appreciation at their naked bodies, but before he said anything Cathy blurted, “Master we have something to tell you.”
Casey paused and then smiled as if he hadn’t heard her. “Have you been good girls today?”
“We think we have been great girls, Master!” said Leigh.
Casey smiled again. “Do you?”
He kissed each of them. First, twining his hand into Cathy’s hair and pulling her up towards him and then holding her like that for a long kiss. Cathy closed her eyes and made her mouth a soft O for him. Then he set her back and moved to Leigh. He clasped her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed down on them as he brushed her lips with his. She closed her eyes and rolled them between his fingers before releasing his grip. Leigh gasped and then moaned.
“What did you want to tell me Cathy?”
“Do you remember when I was bad with the webcam, Master?”
“Yes.” His eyes darkened and he stared at her.
“They made a copy of it and put it on their website. I had them take it down because Leigh helped me.”
“How did you help, Leigh?”
“I sussed it out, Master.”
“And how did you manage that?”
“Well, I was surfing porn and I saw it.”
“While you were playing with yourself?”
“Yes.” Leigh lowered her head and smiled.
“Did you watch it?”
Leigh blushed. “Several times.”
“How many orgasms have you had since I saw you last Leigh?”
Leigh’s voice was barely audible. “More than two.”
“How many more?”
“I … I lost count. Sister was so hot.”
“I see. So, you were a little bit of a piggy, weren’t you?”
“Yes Master.” Leigh did not look up. This was not going the way that she thought it would.
Casey turned to Cathy. “That was one reason I said no when you asked me about it, Cathy.”
“I’m sorry,” said Cathy, who had been waiting to say that.
Casey stroked the side of her face with the backs of his fingers. “No need to be sorry. That’s over and done with now.”
That night they had dinner as was their custom. The girls sat on cushions placed on either side of him. Casey fed them by hand at first. Then he had them feed each other while he watched. Finally, he allowed them to feed him. Tonight, they had dim sum and sushi. Other nights it was Greek food or simply sausages and asparagus. Dinner was usually the start of what he planned for them. There was soft jazz in the background tonight. Cathy relaxed and Leigh waited. She felt the tension easing at the same time as her anticipation grew. It was a confusing signal of emotions. What shouldn’t she have done? Why was her anticipation growing so? Too many orgasms was definitely fun trouble but it got complicated by how she had them. What she was doing and thinking while she masturbated-
“So, Leigh,” Casey began after dinner. “You were a piggy girl.”
Cathy giggled. Leigh felt herself blush. Here it came.
“Yes, Master.”
“Do you not like the guidelines that I have set for you?”
Leigh sighed before she answered and he saw it. “Sometimes I get carried away.”
“Why?” said Casey. He looked into her eyes and she lowered them. She knew what he wanted.
“Because I am a piggy girl,” she said.
Leigh looked over to Cathy who was thoroughly enjoying her torment. Casey smiled and looked at them both. “We are having a guest over tonight. You both remember Abagail Southern?”
She was dressed in a powder blue cashmere top and a black silk skirt. It wasn’t the first time that Casey had invited guests over but it was the most dramatic. The girls were still naked. Casey was wearing a linen shirt and silk lounging pants. Leigh didn’t think she had ever felt her nakedness more acutely than she did then.
Cathy served Abagail a cup of tea. Leigh brought Casey his cognac. “You have very clever girls, Casey.”
“Sometimes they are delightfully clever, but not so delightful this week, were you Leigh?”
“I tried to do what I thought was best for everyone,” said Leigh.
“Yes, and I think you should be properly thanked for that, don’t you Leigh?”
Leigh stammered and could not form words that made sense.
Casey smiled. “She is remarkable,” he said to Abagail.
Abagail Southern sipped her tea. “I was just surprised when she told me that she did not have a master.” She looked at Leigh with a cold bitch smile. “But you do have one, don’t you?”
Leigh was not given to tears. Her life had taught her that they solved nothing.
Casey answered for her. “Yes, she does. Go and stand against the wall facing us Leigh.
Leigh obeyed. Casey moved toward her with a silver object that she did not recognize in his right hand. He kissed her very gently. “I love you,” he said.
There was a loud clang and a vibrating shock that went through the wooden wall against which Leigh was standing. She gasped at the sudden, loud sound and felt a pull against her hair. Then Casey pulled the trigger on the staple gun again and another three-quarter inch staple was driven into the wood, fastening her hair to the wall. The third loud eruption made it impossible for Leigh to move her head. Casey attached restraints to her feet and bent her legs at her knees before attaching thigh cuffs that held her spread open obscenely. He left her arms free. She was pinioned to the wall by her hair and her restrained and splayed legs. Abagail smiled at the sight of her and sipped more tea.
“Come here and properly thank your sister, Cathy.”
Cathy was directed to kneel between Leigh’s legs and use her very talented mouth to say thank you.
Then Leigh saw the small red light go on. “I do think this will be popular on your site, Abagail and it is the least they can do to thank you for your kindness and forgiveness for my girl’s deception.”
Cathy licked and sucked until her lips were numb. Leigh could not remember how many times she begged to orgasm and was given permission. Before she left Abagail assured Casey that nothing had been recorded.
Casey
Casey was reading Captive of Gor. John Norman was far from his favorite writer but the images evoked things in Casey. They set off cascades of imagination that he related back to his own life. Of course, he had never considered himself a slave but there had been a time when he would have endured anything that his lover wished to inflict upon him. She mentioned one day that he was getting soft and he dropped down to weight that showed his hips and rib bones prominently. He took long daily walks and did hours of yoga. He never knew if that pleased her but she began taking photographs of him so he supposed that it did. At the time, Casey had no language to describe their relationship so he just thought of it as love.
His phone hummed. Casey closed the book, looked at the screen and smiled. “Hello Abagail.”
“How are you Casey and how are your lovely girls?”
Casey smiled. “They’re fine. On their toes again with your help.”
“I enjoyed doing you that favor as much as you enjoyed watching. But now I have a favor to ask in return?”
“How can I help, Abagail?”
“I am having a party in a couple of weeks and I was hoping that you and your girls would attend,” said Abagail smiling and crossing her legs as she pictured their time together.
“We’d love to come,” said Casey.
“Casey, would you demonstrate for us? I love to watch you.”
“Of course, I will. It will be an honor,” said Casey. He didn’t mean it but he wanted her to think that he did. This would be something new for Leigh.
Abagail Southern was pleased. She took pride in her parties. They were exclusive and, within their community, she would like to think, famous. She also wanted to spend more time with Leigh. “I was just wondering, to avoid any uncomfortable awkwardness, how exclusively sexual you are with your girls?”
Casey face shifted between grinning to pensive. “That always depends on the situation, doesn’t it?” said Casey.
“It is a costume party and so I’ll look forward to see what the three of you come up with,” smiled Abagail.
Leigh and Cathy were feeding each other fish and chips from a communal wrapper of them. “So, girls, we have been invited to a party.”
Cathy bounced on her round bottom. “Oh, a party!”
Leigh asked, “What kind of party is it?”
“It’s a costume party. A very erotic costume party,” said Casey.
Cathy was bouncing excitedly. Leigh smiled as she saw her excitement but still felt a little apprehensive. Then she found herself grinning and turning her head on a swivel between Cathy and Casey. This happened when they slipped into the shorthand communication that they had built up and Leigh had to struggle to keep up.
“Master, is it a special kind of party?” asked Cathy.
Casey smiled. He looked into Leigh’s face, hanging on each of their words and trying so hard to understand everything.
“What do you mean Cathy?”
“Master!” said Cathy grinning. “You know what I mean. Will there be people playing?”
Leigh blurted. “It’s a sex party?”
Casey smiled. “I’m sure there could be people playing.”
“Are you going to let them play with us?” asked Cathy.
Casey spoke gently. He was having fun with the anticipation but he didn’t want it to go over the top. “You will both have the same rule that you always have. No one can make you do anything that you don’t wish to do,” he paused to let that sink in. “except for me.” Then he said “Cathy?”
“Yes?” Cathy looked up her curls dangling over the sides of her face.
“Do you want to be allowed to play with other people?”
Cathy blushed furiously. She lowered her eyes and said, “Yes Master.”
Leigh giggled but then a thought struck her and it caused her to tense. “Who is hosting this party Master?”
“You remember Abagail Southern?”
Cathy bounced again but Leigh froze. “She makes me nervous.”
Casey nodded. “She should make you nervous. You did not meet her under the best of circumstances, did you?”
Leigh shifted from knee to knee and then Cathy put a piece of fried fish between her breasts and help them up to Casey’s mouth. He sprinkled some vinegar on her breasts and the fish and took it with his teeth as she raised up for him.
Cathy took decorations seriously. She had a keen eye for detail and the ability to draw what she imagined. After Casey told them about the costume party, he tasked Cathy with designing the costumes.
She was intrigued by a vajazzling process that she had seen and read about. Small crystal gems could be adhered to her pubic area and to Leigh’s pussy too. Cathy smiled when she thought about decorating Leigh. The tight, flat slit of her vagina begged to be decorated. Cathy was afraid of piercings. They had been a hard limit for her since she met Casey. He hadn’t ever shown a lot of interest. When they saw pictures of girls with many ringed labial lips, he never paused over them. She knew that he did not like nipple rings. They tended to get in his way. But Casey did enjoy the henna designs that Cathy had traced on herself for him. She thought he would love the textures that came with the vajazzling.
She sketched out a serious of interlocking loops that would resemble thin chains. She created sketches of the designs seeming to enclose her pussy, or splay it. The drawing aroused her. She could feel a tingle between her legs as she worked. She avoided touching herself and decided she would tell Casey about what she felt. He would like that.
Then Cathy drew a ta-teera or slave rag as it was also known. Because it left a girl’s pubic area exposed, it would show off the vajazzling. As was his custom, Casey had given her general directions but left the details to her. He had simply told her that he wanted them dressed like Gorean slaves.
Casey had known Abagail since her days as a shop keeper in her exclusive boutique. Customers shopped by appointment only, and it was a mark of status to be asked to shop at Abagail’s shop. They had always chatted with each other and Abagail enjoyed Casey’s taste. She introduced Casey to the world of English corsets. Casey appreciated the posture the corsets inspired. He was generous with his spending and she did like fitting his girls. Times changed and Abagail changed with them. Her clientele became less a pleasure and more a bore. She closed her shop, collected her profits, and set out on this easier adventure. Her parties remained events.
Casey approved of Cathy’s designs. Leigh set about collecting the necessary materials. Casey watched over their efforts. During the week they had a nightly computer chat. Casey also spoke to each of them individually.
Leigh said, “I really am nervous about seeing Abagail Southern again.”
“I know,” said Casey. “I’m enjoying it.”
Normally that would have been the end to this thread of the conversation. Him enjoying it would have been enough, but Leigh had a nagging question. “Master, are you going to give me to her to play with?”
“Do you want that?”
“It scares me.”
“What about it scares you?” Casey was willing to listen. She knew and trusted that he heard every word. How he responded to her words was the mystery that neither she nor Cathy was able to predict.
“I get this chill when she looks at me.”
“Don’t you wonder why you feel that?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I am afraid that she is going to hurt me in ways that you would never.”
Casey smiled. “That’s not the purpose of a party.”
He knew that Leigh was experiencing angst about Abagail. What he would not tell Leigh was how impressed Abagail was with her gumption and courage. Keeping Leigh a little off balance was a key to balancing her.
Casey picked up his guitar and began to play scales and riffs and then chord patterns. He played the beginnings of songs and then shifted when a chord sent him in another direction. His fingers touched the strings lightly, firmly, quickly and sometimes he seemed to whip them until they sang. He played a chord and then a riff. The chord felt like a slap and the riff like the patter of rain on glass. Casey smiled as he repeated it. He embellished the slap of the chord and the patterns of the rain. He leaned forward and wrote on a pad set up on an easel “Party Scene.” Then the chord and the riff. He sat down in front of his Mac and opened the music software. He positioned his mics and plugged in the acoustic electric guitar.
Creating the music took a couple of days and the studio allowed him to loop in the desired effects and repetitions. His finished project was almost nineteen minutes long. He added a tambourine, and bass percussion that he got from a slapping motion that reminded him of a gentle and persistent spanking.
Leigh called Cathy. She waited as long as she could but it was driving her nuts. “Cathy, do you ever feel obsessed with Master?”
Cathy spoke easily. “Well, I think about him when we aren’t together. I imagine what he would say sometimes. Is that what you mean?”
Leigh lowered her voice a little, to a deeper register that was a hint of husky. “Do you ever get carried away with it?”
Cathy hesitated. She thought about the many times she had gotten carried away with it. But things felt so solid now. Getting carried away was maybe when they did not feel that solid. “I think it is part of who we are Leigh. Our world has shifted. Our focus has to be on him. That’s just the way it has to be.”
“I know that in my head. The rest of me just feels turmoil, like I have been all stirred up, all the time.”
Cathy grinned. “You need to play,” she said in her naughty whisper.
“I know,” whimpered Leigh.
Curl up in bed and I’ll help you,” said Cathy.
Cathy cooed, “Don’t you like Abagail? I think she’s sexy.”
Leigh felt free and rubbed herself. “She scares me. She’s going to want to get me back for what I did.” Leigh felt her excitement growing like an itch that she could not stop scratching.
Cathy’s voice sounded like a soft breeze. “Maybe but Master won’t let her hurt you. Not unless you want her to…”
Those words felt like electricity and Leigh stiffened and rubbed fast. Cathy heard her and slid her own hand between her legs. She didn’t tell Leigh. She was quiet and quick.
Afterwards Leigh said, “Cathy, how do you stand it? Seven years!”
“It’s become who I am. I know he’s demanding but isn’t it worth it?”
“It’s just so easy to feel overwhelmed.”
“Talk to him Leigh. Tell him what you are feeling. You’ve got to just trust him. That’s what this is.”
The night of the party, Cathy prepared Leigh and taught Leigh how to apply the vajazzling technique to her. It included the placement of the small crystals with a tiny glue gun that held each in place. Cathy studied her sketches. She was a perfectionist when it came to these things. She wanted the effect to look as much like dangling chains as she could get it. She used faux emeralds and gold in her design. When Leigh was finished, Cathy was happy was happy. Leigh looked exactly the way that she imagined. Her waxed pubic area was so smooth. The crystals adhered perfectly. Cathy took pictures of Leigh and when Leigh applied the crystals to her the process was so erotic that Cathy found herself aroused before they even left their house. The girls donned the “slave rags” known as the ta-teerras, which were a shimmering shade of deep forest green.
Casey was wearing tight black leather pants and a tunic type top that was a dark grey and hung down to about his mid-thigh. An oval shaped, black canvas pouch was attached to his belt. He wore thin black dress boots. The girls were barefoot. Casey hired a car and driver for the evening. The separation between the front and back seats was tinted and so the driver only saw Casey as he gave him directions and the three passengers settled into the back seat of the car.
The girls fidgeted. Sitting was not something their costumes easy allowed. They sat with their legs spread opposite Casey who was smiling and enjoying their sense of anticipation. Abagail lived in a large converted farmhouse at the top of a long hill. Her grounds stretched for acres. There was a circular driveway that left them at the entrance. It was twilight when they arrived and the lights had the glowing quality that this time of day afforded them.
The door to their car was opened but the girls did not move. They were waiting for Casey’s direction. “Let’s enjoy ourselves and have fun. Remember your rule. And don’t stray too far out of sight. I will need both of you with me.”
The girls got out of the car and held hands. Casey emerged and said, “You both look stunning. Try not to be nervous.”
“Easy for him to say,” whispered Leigh in Cathy’s ear. Cathy did not respond.
The hallways were festooned with candles and balloon animals. Miss Bo Peep was there with her male sheep, who were covered in fleece and on their hands and knees. Their backsides were fully exposed and Miss Bo Peep used her staff to tap against their exposed testicles to signal their responses. “Greet the guests,” she prompted and nudges her staff against them. They both bleated out a “bah” and the group smiled and Miss Bo Peep said, “You may use words.”
She extended her gloved hand to Casey. “It is so nice to see you and your girls.”
Casey kissed her gloved fingers and introduced Leigh and Cathy, who wiggled for Miss Bo Peep.
Jason was an old friend of Casey and Cathy knew him. He did hand magic and was dressed in his magician’s garb. It was the same outfit her wore when he performed in clubs in Atlantic City.
They shook hands and Jason kissed Cathy on her cheek. Cathy moved her hips appreciatively. “I don’t think I’ve met this lovely creature,” said Jason gazing at Leigh. She was very nervous but shifted her hips as Casey would have wanted her to do and giggled.
It was an eclectic group. There was Mandy who was dressed in eight-inch hooves and headgear that covered much of her face. She was led on a chain by Zeke, a trainer who specialized in pony play. He was wearing Edwardian garb. Casey, Cathy and Leigh circulated as a unit, greeting people, smiling and chatting. Leigh kept her head on a swivel looking out for Abagail who she had not yet seen.
Casey was happy to see Daniel, a computer expert who had begun in the lifestyle as a submissive, which was an old school approach, but was now spreading his wings as a dominant. He was decked out in his finest Ren Faire garb. He did the IT for at least half of the people here and was very well liked. Leandra was his girl and she was a masseuse. Cathy hugged them both warmly and introduced them to Leigh. The two girls posed and preened as their outfits were admired. Daniel, smiling reaches down and squeezed Cathy’s bottom. “You look delicious,” he said. Cathy wiggled into the squeeze and thanked him.
There were pirates and fairies and super-heroes and vampires. There was a contingent of motorcycle leather people, who wore their costumes as their everyday wear. There were about thirty-five people at the gathering. Abagail appeared after about twenty minutes. She was dressed as the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland. “Welcome to our home. Please enjoy. Harold will make sure that that everyone has a drink and we will be starting our program in a little while. Please there is finger food for every taste here. If Harold had forgotten anything, he will happily try to accommodate your hunger or thirst.” Harold smiled shyly. He was wearing only a kilt and an O ring was firmly implanted into his breast bone and hung down against his bare chest.
If it were not for the costumes and the physical familiarity that the guests showed with each other, it resembled any house party on an up-scale level. Leigh and Cathy were drinking punch that they scooped out of a large bowl that was marked as lightly flavored, which meant that there was some alcohol but not a lot. Leigh noticed that many of the guests reached under Harold’s kilt and squeezed him as they talked. Harold was rather large down there and it tempted them. His surrender to the caresses was absolute. One was not sure whether it was Harold following orders to be available or whether he enjoyed the teasing, or a combination of both.
The three of them were captivated by Lisa, a willowy slender blonde. She was wearing a clingy, transparent dress that clearing showed the outline of her penis. Her femininity was so absolute that even the shape of her lolling cock seemed to exude it. Leigh felt as one does when a part of an event. She was observer, participant, voyeur and exhibitionist all at once. She stayed close to Cathy for security. She kept Casey within her line of vision. She felt herself tighten when he was kissed by the corseted Vampire, whose implanted incisors sparkled.
Casey was noticeably pleased to see Jon. He was there with his slave-wife Anita. Jon had been on the national fencing team and used a blunted foil when he dominated Anita publicly. Jon whirled and danced and prodded and jabbed and stroked the blindfolded Anita to everyone’s mutual delight and excitement. Anita and Cathy embraced and pinched each other’s nipples playfully. Cathy introduced Leigh who gasped when Anita kissed her and tweaked both of her nipples. Leigh giggled and tweaked her back. The music was floating up all around them. The balloon animals seemed to be dancing on it in the air.
Casey and Jon admired each other’s style. They shared the ease and confidence of men who were used to be watched. Although it would never be necessary here, they looked out for each other at other places.
Abagail approached the two men. Leigh instantly felt herself go on high alert. Abagail was practiced at lightly touching the forearm of men that she liked. She repeated the gesture with both Casey and Jon. They chatted and smiled and nodded but Leigh couldn’t hear what they were saying and Cathy was talking to Lisa about tattoos.
Mid evening the guests retired to a lounging area that was strewn with couches and divans that surrounded an outdoor pool that had been covered over with a semitransparent Plexiglas floor. It was lit from the corners and under the sides. In the center were anchored four ankle cuffs and from a metal overhead frame hung two dangling ropes. The music in this area was supplied by Casey’s mix that now played Bill Evans version of The Theme from M*A*S*H* as he attached Cathy and Leigh to the dangling ropes and spoke softly to them. The piano did variations on the theme. Casey said. “I’m so proud of you both. Everyone will be watching us but the only people in the world right now are the three of us. I love you.”
He attached them back-to-back, their cheeks touching each other. Their genital designs sparkling in the light. Casey uncoiled his single tail, bared his chest and smiled. Then he began to dance around them. The whip, a five foot, sixteen plait Wheeler single tail with an extra-long nylon fall extending from its end danced around them. He lifted their hair into the air with it. He slid it over the shoulders around their waists and between their legs. It barely touched them but they could hear its hiss as it sliced through the air. And then as he danced and twirled in circles the pfft, pfft, sounds and light stings began to pluck off their crystals and send them bouncing across the Plexiglas floor.
He was heating them. It was delicious and soft and it stung but just a little bit and endlessly. It was delicious and soft and it stung but just a little. Cathy said, “Please, may I?” Casey nodded and she let go of wave after wave. The music, the soft stings, the eyes, his eyes led her on her endless river of waves until she realized that she had thrown her head back and screamed. It was an animalistic scream of ecstasy. The sound of it drove Leigh over her edge and she heard herself join Cathy, as Casey danced around them, whipped them so gently and smiled.
Dates and Cigarettes Part 1
Dorothy lit her cigarette with a fluid motion. It was a perfected gesture and she had variations for it. The snap of the lighter and the direction of the exhale communicated mood and attitude. She didn’t glance at the red print that her lips left on the Chesterfield, but she knew it was there. She was walking along Market Street and staring into the windows that had jewelry. Walter Pierce wanted to marry her. She worried that her father might kill him or her or both of them. Then she laughed and told herself that fiction wasn’t healthy.
Walter Pierce was a boxer on the rise. He was lean, compact and had fast hands. Whether or not he had a future was questionable, but he surely had a present. Dorothy wanted it for her own because he was offering and it was so much better than what she had. She made him beg for sex with promises that he would be gentle, but his timidity annoyed her.
In Newark, in 1925, it was controversial for a young woman from the neighborhood to be seen smoking, walking around downtown and looking in expensive shops. Dorothy enjoyed having people gape at her. It made her feel better. She felt tough enough to handle the consequences and Walter was exciting. She didn’t find him handsome but he did provide thrills. He noticed what she wore and paid attention to what she said.
They went to dinner with Jack Dempsey and Tex Rickard. Rickard was Dempsey’s promoter and he was building an undercard. Walter was a bantamweight. People liked it when the little guys mixed it up.
Murray’s Roman Gardens was a lobster palace that Dorothy had read about. It was like something out of a book or a movie and Dorothy knew that she was wide eyed but she couldn’t help it. Lobster palaces had sprung up all around New York and they had the advantage of being able to serve liquor around the clock.
Dempsey wasn’t as big as she expected him to be, but his hands were hard and they excited her. Tex Rickard was a talker. Dorothy listened and smiled and saw that her man was just a prop for a show.
When Rickard suggested that Walter go on a Canadian Boxing Tour and that he take his lovely little doll with him, Dottie liked him better. She grinned her best, red lipped smile and looked into his eyes in a way that she had learned that men adored, “will you be coming along too?’
“I wish that I could, pretty lady, but I’ve got hockey business her in the city. My Rangers are coming to town.”
Dorothy saw sparkle in his eyes. She surmised that he was a man with a dream. She gazed for another instant and then she saw it everywhere on him. He was a man with dreams.
“When you are fighting every couple of weeks, like what you have to, you need to toughen up your skin,” said Dempsey.
“How do you do that?” said Walter.
Dempsey and Rickard exchanged a chuckle. Rickard said, “Ah, go on and tell him. It’s not like the two of you will ever be in the ring together.”
Dempsey leaned in over the table and heldout his hands. “I soak my hands and face in brine, every day.” Dorothy saw a fierce look in his dark eyes. It was a look of savage cruelty. It was dark and yet frighteningly casual.
She didn’t like that and she would tell Walter that he wasn’t getting anywhere close to her stinking of brine all the time. But she would wait until they were alone to tell him that.
They were married at the courthouse in Newark. Dorothy never went home to tell her mother or her father or her sisters. She just left. They went on tour. They travelled through Quebec and Ontario and Montreal and Dorothy felt like she was seeing the world. She felt that what was behind her couldn’t do her any good and that what was in front of her was all that mattered.
She didn’t love him but she loved what he had done for her. He had been an easy way out. Walter fought every couple of weeks, sometimes more. It was usually on a Friday night.
“I would feel better if you were there, Dot.”
“I don’t want to see anyone hurting you.”
“Boxing’s just what I do.” He smiled that impish grin that made her want to smile too.
“I know that it’s been rough. But I beat Sullivan and I beat Mansell and I think that if I know that you’re there, I’ll beat Taboony.”
“Walter, don’t get your blood on me.”
“It ain’t gonna be like that Dottie. I’ll get cleaned up before I see you.”
Dorothy Daniels was born in North Adams, Massachusetts. She had an older brother named William, a big kid who saw his sister as a bit of a toy. He sometimes played with her and then ignored her or threw her across the room or slapped her for fun. Her father just slapped her out of annoyance. He worked for the railroad, but he had been a builder and the building was done.
On Dorothy’s seventh birthday, she was given a baby sister. Her name was Vivian. Her father stood over her. “Your mother is weak and so Vivian is your responsibility.”
It was a fact that she could not dispute. Her mother was weak in so many ways. She was docile and dreamed about God. She had come from a family with a long history in the ministry. Faith was her foundation but she did not aspire to any day to day activities. She preferred to dream about sermons and read the bible and picture the Lord. She was frivolous with household matters and preferred her husband William arrange to have them handled for her. She was impregnated easily and two years later Deborah was born.
The nine year old Dorothy had her added to the list of responsibilities. It was more than she could handle. She brought the toddler and the baby down to a lake in Branch Brook Park. She told them that they were going to walk across the water. When the carriage wouldn’t move in the mud, she said, “Maybe we should teach Deborah how to swim.” She was reaching into the carriage to pluck the infant out when a policeman saw that something was wrong. Why was a baby carriage up to its wheels in the water and what was a fully dressed toddler doing holding onto the carriage and standing there looking up at her nine year old sister with trust and devotion and fear.
When the obviously concerned policeman came after them, Dorothy claimed that she didn’t know how they got there and that probably she had been daydreaming. Her mother sent her eldest child William down to collect them from the police station.
He was polite until they got on the street. Dorothy was pushing the carriage, Vivian holding on to it. Deborah lay wide-eyed at all the people she had seen that day, more than she had ever seen in her life. Some men had hair on their faces. Dorothy’s head snapped forward at the first open palmed smack. “What did you think you were doing?” William snarled. The second smack landed at the center of the back of her head. “You were going to drown them.”
“Billy, I wasn’t.”
He punched her in the middle of her back in a way that made her shoulders spasm up while her mouth and eyes opened in wide pain. “You’re an evil bitch, Dottie. If you ever hurt them again, I’ll do something really bad to you.”
Dorothy stopped pushing the stroller and turned to him. Vivian froze. The defiance in Dorothy’s eyes blotted out the pain. “Maybe you could do something really good and help me with them a little.”
William’s first instinct was to slap her face. He followed it. When her head came back to face him, her eyes were knife-like and steady. “Maybe you should see that I’m nine years old and that I’m your little sister.”
Dorothy noted the look of surprise in his face. She wondered if her brother was perhaps the densest creature on the planet. William said, “Dad is going to kill you.”
That thought frightened Dorothy. Then her mouth hardened. “Is that what you really want him to do, Billy? Do you want to see him kill me?”
“Stop talking crazy.”
“Stop slapping me around.”
“I gotta do the right thing.”
“Go ahead then. Beat me up. Then I’ll hate you too.”
“Dot, you tried to drown Dad’s daughters.”
“Only some of them.” Then Dottie smiled. She smiled into his eyes and William felt that conspiratorial allegiance.
“They are your job. You just gotta do it, Dot.”
“Sometimes your limitations are boring, William.”
He slapped her hard on the side of her face with his open, tight palm.
“Like that,” she said. “That’s why I can’t be around here.”
Walter presented her with an engagement ring and promised that he would always treat her right. That was all that Dottie needed. She rolled the ring in the mud all the way home and then showed it to her parents and told them that she’d found it.
A few months later, she married Walter.
They went on a tour of Canada. Walter fought every week. He began to lose every week. He was fast but he left openings that experienced fighters exploited. They were openings to the head.
Dottie said, “You’re getting your brains knocked out.”
“I’ll be ok. Are you having a good time?”
“No, I’m watching getting your brains beat out.”
Walter turned ugly after his tenth loss in a row. He would drink himself unconscious every night. When Dottie told him to stop, he slapped her around the way that William had slapped her. She left him and went back to New Jersey.
After the 14th consecutive loss, Walter began to lose his vision and retired. He returned to New Jersey and reached out to Dottie, but she said that she couldn’t forgive him and wanted better. And just like that, Dottie got a divorce. Walter agreed that he’d done wrong to her. Since there were no children involved and Dottie requested no alimony, it was a simple case. There was no property to divide.
Dottie’s mother chalked it all up to Voodoo Jazz and the way that Dottie had stopped going to church. Her father decided that it was not to be spoken about ever.
On a very cold day in that January, Dottie was standing outside of the same courthouse in Newark. She was wearing a black and gray tiger striped dress with a matching hat that fit snugly to her head. She wore red lipstick, was smoking a cigarette in a holder and she was covered by a black cloth coat that was not warm enough for the day, She knew that she looked good in heels and didn’t care about the coat, which she left unbuttoned.
A large man got out of a new Dodge. Dottie saw herself catch his eye as he held his coat up to his throat. He was attracted by the brazen way that she ignored the cold. Dottie felt her knees weaken when he walked in her direction.
“My driver can take you where you are going so that you can get out of the cold, Miss.”
“How do you know where I want to go?” said Dottie exhaling a long stream of smoke and tilting her head to show her neck but pretending not to blow the smoke in his face.
“That doesn’t matter. I have some business here and he’ll just be sitting there waiting for me.”
“That’s kind of you. What is your name?”
“Charlie Weber.”
“Thank you, Mr. Weber, but I’m not sure it would be the right thing to do.”
“Do you worry about that often?” said Charlie with a broad grin that almost took her breath away.
“I should worry about it more,” said Dorothy.
“Too cold to worry about it today,” said Charlie and he turned on his heel, back to his car where he held the door open for her.
The seats were upholstered in black leather. Dorothy caught a glimpse of the hardwood steering wheel. There were two compartments in front of her. One held a full flask of rum and the other housed a gun. She shivered and closed that compartment and looked out at the passing streets. Dottie sipped on a very small glass of rum and thought about what it must be like to live like this. It attracted her. She ran her palms along the leather of the seats, inhaled that scent of tobacco, looked at the capped head of her silent driver and felt like she belonged.
The automobile wasn’t heated. There was a lamb’s wool blanket, but she was timid about spreading it over her thighs. If Charlie had been there, she would have done it with a casual flourish, but alone, she just tried not to shiver.
It took Charlie two weeks and three dresses that were sent to Dorothy’s house, via the same driver who had driven her home that day, before Dorothy told the driver that if Mr. Weber wanted to see her that he should come by himself. As if on cue, the driver removed an envelope from his pocket. It was an undated letter. Dorothy took note of the masculine and yet finely crafted penmanship. It was an invitation to join him and some of his friends that evening for supper at the new Riviera Hotel.
“Did he send one of these with you every time you came here?”
“I’m sorry, Miss. I don’t have a very good memory. I just do what I’m told.”
Dorothy was tempted to tell him that he wasn’t a very good liar either, but she knew when it was better to keep her mouth shut. “Please tell Mr. Weber that he can come by any time after 6 o’clock.”
“Miss, would it be OK with you if Mr. Weber sent me by to pick you up?”
“No, it would not. I’m not someone who gets fetched like a horse and then saddled up for a ride.” There was a look of shock on the driver’s face. Dorothy leaned in and said, “Please tell him that, exactly. Can you remember that?”
“I sure can,” said the driver.
Dorothy dressed carefully. She wore a loose fitting, low waist, balloon sleeved, rust colored dress with a modestly scooped neckline. The bottom of the dress came just below her knees. She added to the ensemble a pair of black leather pumps with a bronze brocaded satin trim. Lastly, she slid on a fitted cloth hat with a trimming of looped felt.
Fashionably prompt at 6:30, Charlie Weber’s car pulled up in front of her house. He wore a gray double breasted overcoat and Dorothy smiled when she saw, as she expected to see, him wearing a three piece suit. She loved a man in a vest.
They road in Charlie’s Dodge. He draped the lamb’s wool blanket over her thighs. They entered the Essex County park system. The trees were bare and the path was winding and icy. Dorothy felt like she was riding among the stars.
The roads were slick and smooth. There were no reasons to think about stopping. Dorothy took his left arm and held it. “This feels really nice Charley.”
“I like your company,” said Charley.
The dinner at the Rivera Hotel was for six. Charlie’s brother Ethan and Abner Zillman joined them. Ethan brought his fiancée, Martha. Longy Zillman brought Jean Harlow. At first, Dorothy was unable to speak. They had drinks that were delivered by one of Longy’s speak easies. They each had a Modern Cocktail. Dorothy smiled. She had taken off her coat but not her hat. She puffed a cigarette that Charlie had lit for her. She gripped his arm and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “Would you order what you want me to eat?” Charlie smiled, nodded and swelled. Harlow smiled often and made sure that she knew nothing about the conversation. Dorothy admired her and learned. She was Dorothy’s age but seemed older and in the know from a worldly perspective.
After they ate, Charlie said, “Longy can help me get to where I am going. Be nice to him.”
Charlie took her to dinner every night. There was a steady stream of dresses and hats and shoes. The variety of people had a commonality of wealth or power that could produce wealth. Ethan was a cool and distant fixture at these meals. He was polite. About half of the time Martha was present, but there was no shred of personal contact between Martha and Dorothy. Neither of them saw it as an advantage or pursued it. After Dorothy found out that Ethan was a younger brother, she stopped worrying.
She liked being with Charlie and she knew that she was falling in love with him. It seemed to her that she was part of his plan. She liked the idea that she fit in and knew that he was not going to abuse her. At least, it felt that way.
Dorothy’s family ate potato onion soup at least twice a week, once with carrots. There was an occasional chicken and once in a great while, beef or pork. With Charlie, she ate lobster and shrimp and steak and anything else that a wide menu offered. Sometimes she secreted portions of her plate and brought them home to her younger sisters. They worshipped her.
She and Charlie ate a steak for him and lobster for her dinner. This was one of the few nights that they were eating alone. It was almost uncomfortable because she had grown so used to eating with a group of his associates and listening and adding small humorous comments that made the men smile and caused envy in the other women.
“I’m not a god-fearing man, Dorothy. I’m not built that way. I don’t worry about heaven or hell or any of that crap.”
Dorothy stared at him thoughtfully. It wasn’t the kind of conversation that they usually had. “I never thought about it too much,” lied Dorothy. She didn’t want to tell him that she used to sneak into Catholic churches because she loved the costumes and the incense. “My mother his religious and it never helped her that much.”
He smiled, extracted a box from his jacket pocket. It was a ring box that was wrapped in white paper and tied with a golden ribbon. “Open it,” he said.
The diamond’s sparkle leapt out at her eyes and she could feel her red lipped mouth open. She took his forearm and felt him tighten muscles in order to appreciate and impress her. “Why do you want to marry me?”
“I think that we can make a life together.” He pinched his Windsor knot and looked down at the linen tablecloth. The only stains of food were on his side. “I think that you have class, and I need class.”
“Will you cheat on me?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“I want to know the rules, Charlie.”
“I can’t say that I won’t.”
“Will you buy me things?”
“Yes.”
“Will you work to make it fun?”
“Yes, Dorothy. I think we both know what fun is.”
“Do you want children?”
“I don’t know. I think so.”
“Will you promise to not rub things in my face?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to be discreet?”
“Yes.”
“Then, I’ll marry you and there will be some things that we just don’t talk about.”
A black lamb’s wool coat almost too heavy to wear, with a finely fitted cloth hat, feather tilted earthbound, gartered nylon toes inside silk shoes, jeweled cigarette holders and whiskey in carved glass…It was sensual. There were elegant outfits and jewels and tastes and smells that dizzied her. She was in the company of important people who ruled the lives of other people and created fortunes and it seduced her to think that she could move among them. She sometimes dared to dream that she could be one of them.
On yachts in Long Island Sound and bright light dinners in Manhattan, Dorothy moved with selfish elegance. She brought trifles to give to her sisters, she no longer spoke to her brother. Charlie was her world. Her dad was gone and her mother was still praying.
The rest of the world might be poor but what did that have to do with her? Her man was on the rise and that meant that she was smart and lucky. He impregnated her in 1932.
Ronald had dark hair. His fingers and mouth were tiny but his eyes were large and Dorothy held him and stared into them. She felt a distance that created a yearning pang. It was as if Ronald was only partially here. She reached out for him, more with her mind than anything else. She searched to make connection. What she felt pained her. It was a presence that was alone and full of life but fleeting. He was like a butterfly. The frantic heartbeat and the tumultuous energy that was being used just to stay alive. He squeezed her finger.
Failure to thrive was how they described it. Dorothy thought that it might be a rejection of her, another of those. Charlie felt that he might be being punished but he didn’t talk about it to anyone.
Ronald Weber succumbed to failure to thrive only 34 days after a routine birth. Charlie didn’t care about the remains. The body was cremated and Dorothy was given a small box, like a shoe box, filled with ashes. Both Dorothy and Charlie blamed her.
Birdtalk
Birdtalk
The bird beat its wings against the ceiling in a frantic attempt to stay in the air until it could find a place to rest. Cullen turned the recessed lights on and they seemed to agitate the bird. It battered itself against the walls and then somehow found a perch on the top of a curtain rod. The window was too close to the bird to attempt to pull the screen down, so Cullen opened both of the doors to the front and side porches and watched in dismay as an army of moths collected around the lights. His wife would be cursing all the next day as she found them. He was about to reach for a broom and try to coax the bird out one of the doors when it said, “How are you, Old Sport?”
The utterance froze him. The bird was looking at him. It was not a parakeet. It was a wild bird with the brownish gray coloring of a sparrow. “I’m fine,” said Cullen, “but we have to find a way to get you out of here.”
“Gregor Samsa,” said the bird.
Cullen could not help but smile at the irony even though he knew that the bird could not possibly understand the story that he evoked.
“Mother died today, or was it yesterday,” said the bird.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” said Cullen. It was an automatic response and Cullen wondered if it made any more sense that what the bird was saying.
The bird cawed. “Ahab was not my first husband.”
“Did someone teach you these things?”
“Terror is a secret cause,” said the bird.
Cullen was confused. It was 3 AM and he had no idea how this bird had gotten into his living room but that was a question for another time. At first, it was simply an annoyance and he wanted to shoo it out so he could go back to sleep. Now a part of him wanted the bird to stay long enough to have this mystery unraveled. The bird seemed to be breathing fast enough so that its whole body trembled.
“Romance at short notice was her specialty,” said the bird.
“You are well read,” said Cullen. He laughed at himself. He talked to his plants and did not find that absurd but they didn’t talk back. Still holding the broom, he walked out of the room, poured himself a drink and then came back. He moved the dog’s water bowl to a spot underneath the bird and had a momentary rush of panic at the chaos that would result if the dog discovered the intruder. He calmed himself when he remembered that he had closed the bedroom door when his wife had come upstairs to tell him that there was a bird in the house. He rested the broom stick across his lap.
“It made a difference to that one,” said the bird.
Cullen was a bit shocked. The bird seemed to be quoting from books that were all in his library. He had a good collection but it was not the most extensive and it was surely eclectic.
“The conditions of a solitary bird,” said the bird.
Cullen took a sip of his brandy. “Can I get a nevermore?”
“Nevermore, Nevermore, lost Lenore,” said the bird.
Cullen had a large cage that he had used when the dog had needed to be isolated because of an injury. He put his brandy down and retrieved the cage from a closet. He unfolded it as the bird watched and cawed, “Nevermore, nevermore, Lost Lenore…” The bird repeated it incessantly as Cullen unfolded the cage and snapped its rails into place. He placed the cage on its end with the entrance pointed up and the entrance flap open and hanging to the side.
“Heaven and earth Horatio,” cawed the bird.
When Cullen extended the handle edge of the broom, the bird jumped into a frantic flight of flapping wings that that struck against the walls and then the ceiling again and then the walls once more. Cullen spun the broom around and with the straw end herded the bird down into the cage and then quickly closed the flap.
He winced as he saw the scratch marks the cage was making on his newly refinished floor as he dragged it towards the door with the frantically trapped bird inside. He managed to get the cage to the open doorway and then out on the porch. He closed the door in back of him and opened the entrance flap to free the bird.
“Heaven and earth Horatio,” said the bird. And then it flew out into the pre-dawn sky.
Cullen smiled and said almost wistfully, “It was nice to meet you.”
He decided to leave the cage on the porch until morning and walked around to close the other door just as the bird flew back into the house.
“Miles to go before I sleep,” said the bird.
In spite of his frustration, Cullen laughed, shook his head and headed back upstairs.
“This is going to be the start of a beautiful relationship,” he said over his shoulder.
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