[K][T] and Family Ch. 06

When I told Francine that she owed Christine a shower, she was surly. Because she was a bad sport, I told Christine not to return the favor. Francine gave me a look that promised trouble, but that could wait another day. For the present, I held Maria close and stroked her hair.

After a couple of minutes, Maria murmured, "Thank you, Mistress. Thank you so much." I stroked her for another minute, then positioned her for her disciplinary hour. As I fastened the blindfold, I told her that she could win back her underwear, if she could identify it blindfolded, by scent alone. Otherwise she would attend the wedding without underwear.

Given the way Maria kept scenting the air, I could pass my own test with no problem.

Francine:

Getting to the room was no problem. I had a twinge of humor at the circumstances. In all my years avoiding unwanted press, this was the first time I had gone to an hotel room with multiple potential lovers. The humor didn't last. Instead I watched Christine fawn over Maria. Siobhan asked me to find restraints while Christine took her turn. I found a couple of belts and some scarves. Meanwhile Siobhan was promising all kinds of sweet things. Maria was a submissive. Tie her to the bed and whip her to orgasm.

Sheila says she gets nervous when I get quiet. She means when I am thinking hard. I also get quiet when I'm angry. Christine was taking off her clothes. Maria was startled by the corset. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Wait til she sees the legs. Christine stopped and looked to us for directions. Siobhan probably wanted Maria for herself, while I had Christine again. Damned if I felt like helping. Instead I started peeling down.

Looking back, that was my big mistake. There were only two kinds of people present: Dominants and submissives. Without thinking it through, I cast myself as a submissive. Damn, Francine, did you get dropped on your head? I may have expected Siobhan to cave under the responsibility. Directing is a lot harder than it looks. I should have remembered Ricky in my living room. Indecisiveness is not a family problem. Siobhan took it in stride, never letting her attention leave Maria. Meanwhile, I had trapped myself in a role that required silence. Shit a broomstick.

I was in no mood to be fair, but Siobhan had a real flare for this. Christine had gotten Maria calmed down, but Siobhan kept her there. She acknowledged good work, but corrected firmly where appropriate. She even had me do some corrections. Once Maria settled in a maintainable slave posture, Siobhan made her sniff wet snatch. I could see Maria's pulse throbbing at her temple and no one had touched her yet. My pulse was throbbing for another reason.

In spite of myself, I wondered where this was going next. I would have long since gotten physical, either soft or rough. Siobhan treated it as foreplay for Christine's big moment. I had recently seen all the bruising laid out, so this was one unveiling I wished to avoid. That did not stop it. Siobhan directed Christine to stand and me to assist with two waves of her hand. I hated to admit it, but Siobhan was good. It did not help my mood.

Maria had been coddled and coaxed. Still, she impressed me by taking the sight of Christine's legs in silence. To another sense, she was quite obvious. Maria's scent poured into the room. Instead of pursuing the obvious arousal, Siobhan told Maria to sit and watch. What the fuck?

Damn my over eager impulses. I was playing a submissive. Since Christine is the real thing, Siobhan had two sides of a competition. I won right of choice. I figured licking me off would get Christine hot, so I deferred. Perhaps I neglected to consider how hot I was myself. Whatever. I held out as long as I could, but it was barely a minute. When Christine had sucked me out, just over a week before, her technique was amateurish. How the hell had she learned that much in one week?

As soon as I started, I knew it was a lost cause. Christine could hold out all night. She was in her element and I was only playing at it. My blood had been boiling earlier, but this was worse. Siobhan used a mercy rule, so I was not completely humiliated. Instead I stewed in silence while Christine ate Siobhan. It was a timed challenge, which Christine did to perfection. My jaw ached from grinding my teeth.

What came next was almost good enough to take my mind off my piss. Rather than use the belts to restrain Maria, Siobhan borrowed a page from Sheila's methods. She blindfolded Maria with a scarf and had me spin her dizzy. When the time was right, I sent her sprawling toward Siobhan, who was seated spread legged on the floor. She caught Maria, pulled her down, then wrapped legs around her, heels between the knees. Before Maria had time to react, Siobhan's feet were spreading her thighs. A moment later, Siobhan's hands captured Maria's wrists.

Of course Maria struggled, but to no avail. It only added to her arousal. Christine won our competition, so she had the honors. Watching her do tease-and-prolong cunnilingus was an education. My own contributions were minor. Where the hell did she learn this stuff? When Maria finally was allowed to cum, her orgasm was violent.

Siobhan went back to coddling mode, which reminded me that I was pissed. To make matters worse, I had to give Christine a shower, but she was not allowed to do me. Fuck you, Siobhan Richards. I was still fuming when I climbed in bed.

Christine climbed in behind me. In spite of my mood, I could not take it out on her. She was too fucking nice to me. Instead, I let her roll me onto my back, so she could finger me and suck my nipple at the same time. How could she know how much I loved nipple suction? She built me up slowly. When I was on the brink, she patted my belly and said, "Mama." Oh my fucking God!

I melted inside. In twenty years of carnal pursuit, that orgasm was unique. I spent hours of the night thinking about it, and about myself. Christine is too perceptive by half. I later heard that she told Sheila I wanted a baby the day before I realized it myself. To hear Siobhan tell it, she never told Sheila, except perhaps telepathically. Sheila just stared at Christine for a couple of seconds, then exclaimed, "You're not serious!" Whether that was true or not, everything we had done would get back to Sheila.

When I realized Christine would be telling her, I was finally able to sleep. It's a hell of a thing when a teenage misfit is more mature than a thirty four year old self-made millionaire. That did not stop me from taking the inside of the spoon. Among Christine's other virtues, she makes a great comforter.

Sean:

There is something about the day before that often keeps me up. My Kitten purred when I stroked her. When I took her to bed, she curled up and went to sleep. Thinking back, I realized that Sheila's week had been just as full as mine, but I had not spent half of one night preparing to bare myself to the press. I was glad one of us could sleep.

About midnight, I slipped out of bed to pump some iron. Security sent someone down to spot, as usual. As I worked out, I considered my relationship with my staff. It was time to grow up a little. After a couple of sets, I called Gerald's voicemail. I told him to develop a menu of alerts for my bedroom computer. Spotter for the gym was one possible request, but others were obvious—get a car ready, wake the nanny, call a doctor.

Thoughts of personal safety quickly led to thoughts of protecting Sheila. It gave me something worthwhile to do. An hour of searching the internet gave me food for thought and a number of new resources. I slipped back into bed around two o'clock. Sheila said, "It took you long enough. Now, hold me and get some sleep." Yes, Ma'am.

Chapter 19—Game Day

Interlude: 25^th Anniversary

Cindy:

When you plan a major event, there are usually a thousand last minute details. Mom says that they are why you hire staff. Dad, who actually hires staff, says that is when the staff earns their bonuses—or not. Whatever their thoughts about staff, the day of the wedding Mom and Dad slept late. I gather this was not the plan. Aunt Jo left instructions.

Aunt Jo did not sleep late. She and Aunt Francine had a fight. Both are seriously embarrassed about it and both blame themselves. You have to know the both to understand how odd that is. The only one that might know is Nanny CC. Good luck getting it out of her.

Siobhan:

Dawn came way too early, but I was in the yard to see it. That meant that I was up before five. I was not going to get anyone else up, but Christine has her own mind and Francine lives on caffeine. I wrote a note for Maria, saying someone (Elspeth) would be over about ten o'clock to get her fitted for the wedding. Christine and I donned our corsets and the three of us went to the Waffle House.

Francine made me nervous. The evening before she was unusually quiet, but surly when she spoke. During playtime with Maria, she had played submissive, which did not really suit her. When she lost the challenge, she was ungracious. At breakfast, Francine inhaled a couple platters of food and a full carafe of coffee, all in a pregnant silence. I checked with Christine, but she had nothing to share.

Without Maria, the car was much less crowded. We had driven that way the night before. This time, Francine chose to complain the entire way. When we reached the driveway at home, Francine had her door open while the car was still moving. I watched her charge off with mixed feelings. On one hand I was glad to be out of range. On the other hand, many of the wedding day staff came from Francine's companies. I was willing to give Francine room to work, but I had final say on all the details.

It was a say I needed to exercise immediately. The Amish are farmers. Predawn is already work time. Evaine Schaeffelker came to me with a steaming mug in her hands. The aroma of ham and sausage made me wish I could eat again, though the younger girls were already clearing the table. In minutes I was deep into an inspection tour and Francine was far from my mind.

The morning was well along before I caught sight of her again. By then I had put teams to work doing a final cleaning to the Ladies Parlor and the Smoking Lounge, directed the placement of the outdoor tables and begun setting the Fair into final order. The Amish women were kneading bread, the young girls and boys were cleaning the Ballroom, while the men were positioning the heavier pieces. My grad students were not up by dawn, but all of them were hard at work by eight o'clock.

About nine thirty, I saw Francine talking to several of her performers. I went over to find out what was up. As I approached, Francine waved her people away. I did not take that well. Soon Francine and I were in a heated discussion of who should be where, doing what and when. In retrospect, we were not disagreeing about anything, just demanding that certain things be a certain way. We assumed that the red faced woman in front of us was arguing, rather than talking about something unrelated.

The confrontation broke off abruptly. I spotted Justin Immons, whom I had been seeking. Francine left for her own reasons. Within minutes Justin and his reflectors pushed the spat out of my mind. What happened later was just me being stubborn.

Francine:

I woke as contented as I had been in years. There was good reason. Christine had given me two excellent orgasms and held me all night. Like my high from the party, the feeling did not last. The first thing under my skin was Siobhan being up. I always rise before everyone else. Seeing her reminded me of the night before. While Christine had done much to smooth things, I was still pissed at Siobhan. At some level I was aware that I was being unfair, but that didn't stop me.

We dressed, ate and headed back to Sean's house. The night before I had not minded sharing the seat with Christine, but I felt differently at O dark thirty. When we reached the house I threw open the door of a still moving car. Rational people don't do that and the rational part of me knew it. I had to get away before I did something no one could overlook.

One thing about manors and mansions, there is a lot of room for pacing. I pace a lot. It helps me think. It lets me burn off excess energy. Often, it keeps me from screaming. I paced in circles, then back and forth, eventually along a path. When I almost paced into a horse's ass, I decided I'd gone far enough. An Amish boy, about twelve, stopped pitching hay to the horse so he could stare at me. It was ridiculous. I was being ridiculous. At the wrong end of a cart horse, I finally got a grip. Thank heaven I never started laughing, because Mother Mary only knows when I would have stopped.

Some people have therapy. I have work. When I came out of the stable tent, the sun was lighting the tree tops. That meant it was time to get the troops going. I pulled out my phone and started making calls. I think I only woke one person, though two other lines went to voicemail. None of them were people I worked with regularly, which gave me a cold satisfaction.

When I arrived, the Amish were cleaning up breakfast and no one else was in sight. Now they were busy on the final clean up. Before long, that horse would be hitched to a cart. Sean's people—I shied from thinking of them as Siobhan's people—were showing up in numbers. Only my crew was absent. At least I had a destination. I went into the house and found the storeroom that would serve as my wardrobe department. There was no lock, but a security man was standing nearby. I made a note to thank the head of security.

The next hour had a soothing familiarity. The best shipping always leaves things jumbled. I made a good start at getting things sorted. When one of my costume people showed, we worked together til another dragged in. I made a note which had been first and by how long. It rarely hurts when the boss is caught doing grunt work. It never hurts to know who else is willing to do it.

I went outside, planning on getting bearings for the performers. Unlike the set people, most of the performers would see the site for the first time that day. They needed to know their marks, entrance and exit points, routes to the prop room, permissible facilities and other mundane information. I was formulating a walk through when I ran into Siobhan.

The meeting did not go well. I started telling her that my performers would need to know the ins and outs. She started telling me something about the lighting for the ceremony. We talked over each other. Then we repeated ourselves, louder. It was a fundamental mistake. I was in charge of the acting crew, but Siobhan was the site manager. That made me her assistant. Shit.

Fortunately, Siobhan saw Justin, so I could escape while she dealt with tech stuff. I was irritated, again, at myself, again, concerning Siobhan, again. It was getting monotonous. So, I paced some more, then went to meet my first arriving talent. Somewhere in there, I caught a glimpse of Sheila, looking disheveled. I wish I could have laughed, but that was not the way things were unfolding. Instead I walked my performers through their entrances, marks and exits. Then I took them to wardrobe and repeated the process with the next group.

I was so far gone I never thought of food, til I saw a foil wrapped sandwich in someone's hand.

Sean:

Sleeping with Sheila was an adjustment. Like everyone else, she moved in her sleep. I found I did not like having her leg draped over mine, though I'd heard others speak lovingly of the sensation. However, waking up to Sheila was a joy. Seeing her, face unencumbered by the cares of life, had become my favorite thing. Angels are cliché, but Sheila would be the perfect subject for art in an angelic theme. The morning of her wedding was no exception.

Another cliché that worked was that grooms only have to show up on time, while brides need to be radiant. I hated to wake her, but it was past sunrise. Even in late May that meant oversleeping. I kissed her on the neck, putting some tongue into it. Sheila did her half of the cliché with style. She rolled over, gave me an enormous smile and pulled me into a possessive kiss. For my part, I had a drill instructor, disguised as a sister, to act as host. So I played with my fiancée for a while.

Sheila's shrieking was interrupted when my phone played Dixie, which was Gerald's ring tone. FedEx had delivered a package marked, "Attention: Sheila Schwartz. Wedding supplies." Sheila was already headed for the bathroom, so I told Gerald we would be down in half an hour. The package might be important, but so was shaving Sheila's easy to reach place. I wanted it baby smooth for later.

In the shower we discussed the timetable. After frantic weeks, I had unscheduled time for a few hours. Sheila was in a similar situation, though she had an early call for hair and makeup. The actual event was at six o'clock, with everyone in place at five thirty. Giving three hours for wardrobe, that still left us three whole hours. The party officially began at two o'clock, but we could squeeze in a few minutes to look around. After the ceremony was the Ball. I informed Sheila that our reservations allowed two hours before we left for the airport.

For someone as detail oriented as Sheila, I was surprised how accepting she was of all the things I told her. It was a weighty question to ask in the shower, but out it popped.

"Why are you so relaxed about all this?" I asked. Sheila put her hand on my face and led me to the shower seat. I sat and she sat in my lap. Her kiss was gentle and full of feeling.

She said, "I tried to think of everything. Then I realized I could never do it all, but I did not have to. I had you and Siobhan to take care of the details. That left me a manageable situation. As you recall, it went rather well."

Gerald said that Sheila could deliver a thirty minute brief in fifteen seconds. This was one of those times. The bottom line was she trusted me enough to relax. Everyone says they trust others, but how many act like it? It touched me. Had we not been almost to the altar, I would have proposed on the spot. What the hell. I said, "Marry me." Sheila did not take it lightly. She said, "I will."

Then she got a twinkle in her eye, "But, I do not promise to be faithful." The hell of it was, I understood perfectly and I was fine with that. "Fine, but only the girls. We can do menage a trois some time." Sheila laughed. We kissed to seal the deal. I was about to stand Sheila up, when she had a thought. For once, I was ahead of her. "No. If they want children, they can get someone else to do it. Jason maybe." I pinched Sheila's ass, so she jumped off my lap.

Have you ever made life shaping decisions in a shower? I recommend it.

Sheila:

When I first met Sean, I woke the next morning thinking of Scarlett O'Hara. She woke smiling from a night of presumably vigorous sex. I woke smiling from my first submissive scene, including some novel foot torture and a sound flogging. The morning of my wedding, I reflected how much had changed, yet I still felt wonderful. Sean took one look at my expression and decided to tickle me, the cad.

We played like children for several minutes before the world intruded. Not to be rushed, even by Saturday delivery, we lingered in the shower. Sean made a point of closely inspecting my pubic region for stray hairs. He never found any, though the search was systematic and careful. While he searched, Sean also gave me our agenda. I found it reasonable, so I said nothing. Sean found my silence odd, though he said nothing aloud.