K&T, LLC Ch. 06

The rest of the trip home was uneventful, til we had a text from Sheila, saying she was going by her studio for a costume change. Naturally, we met her there. As always, in any costume department, I wanted everything. Leave it to Schwartz to notice. She offered to have something made in my size. Sheila is so selfless, you cannot be jealous for long. Siobhan and I sent her off to Sean.

That left CC with us. I had gotten so used to CC not talking that another form of communication caught me by surprise. CC was miming a keyboard. Damn. I should have thought of that. We all moved into Sheila's office and exchanged contact information. It was all very comfortable til CC mentioned a reporter.

When I bought the Crow's Nest, one of the first things I did was install a 10% discount for police and press. I never announced the deal, but word gets around. On any given evening, the clientele is going to be well represented by both groups. Having a reporter see CC do her fire eating act was almost inevitable. Normally that would be good. Publicity helps both me and the restaurant.

In this case, we had a camera shy guest at the table. Fortunately, all the references to her involved the nuptials and not the club next door. Unfortunately, I knew that would not last. Both names were on the catalog. Sooner or later, someone would link them. Siobhan used that point in my ruminations to offer me a quickie.

I was tempted, but I needed to make some calls. Instead, I dropped my rather fragrant panties and let CC suck me off. She had been studying. It had been one of those days that gets you started and leaves you hanging, so I was ready for some relief. CC brought me using her nose, of all things, on my clit. I tossed the panties to Siobhan and we went to the car.

Once back at my fourplex, I sent messages to my PR people, explaining the events at the restaurant. I explained that I had known Sheila from high school and had dated the groom. I did not mention the performance at Lincoln Center. Sheila had enough mixed feelings, without me bringing it to light again. That should cover the more basic questions. The more difficult ones would come in relation to the catalog.

To that end, I made some inquiries through my Hollywood contacts. Photo editing is a serious field in movieland, but mostly it refers to covering up flaws. I mentioned Sheila as someone in the field, whom I had not seen for years. It did not take long to find out that Sheila's skills had a market. It also put her name out in connection to me and not to a bunch of erotica.

It was a band-aid on a sucking chest wound, but it might hold for a day or two. That gave me time to think of myself. I opened the toy box and took out the gag and both breast pumps. Siobhan was right. Now that Schwartz was going to have a kid, I wanted one too, but I did not have a guy handy. Maybe that Jason kid would do it. I would ask CC. She would know.

I fell asleep to thoughts of holding CC and suction on my breasts.

Siobhan:

I dropped Francine off at her small apartment. Knowing Francine as I was coming to, she likely owned the whole building, possibly the whole block. Then we went a few blocks to Walgreen's. There was something in Christine's face when we stopped there, but she shook off an inquiry. I went inside and bought a bottle of aloe gel and some Neosporin.

As I waited in line for checkout, I focused on getting my balance right. As I stood there, someone asked if I had used too much force with the flogger. I took as deep a breath as the corset would allow, then turned to the worm. I let my feelings show in my face. A round faced black guy turned rather gray. My mind thought, this is what shock looks like on black skin. I actually said, "Cat of nine tails. God only knows how, but Mistress did not break skin. For you, she might make an exception." I only thought he was gray. Wow.

"Mistress." I did not know who was speaking. It turned out to be the checkout clerk. Her name tag said Mary. Damn. Submissives were coming out of the woodwork. I did my famous top down inspection. Mary stood still for it, though she blushed furiously. The girl had potential, but I did not have time. Instead I merely paid for my items and motioned to the black guy that his mouth was open.

As I was leaving, I leaned over the counter and said quietly, "Maria, I find your attitude suitable, but I am just in town for a wedding. Keep looking and you will find the right Dom for you. Just find someone you trust before you raise the subject."

Maria smiled, "That's what He said." Oh my God. I asked, "Was he about so tall, dark curly hair, dimple like mine?" Maria nodded. I continued, "You have good taste. That's my brother. He's the one getting married. As it happens, he is marrying the Mistress. I can get you into the wedding if you want." Maria nodded, glassy eyed.

I pulled out a card and underlined my email. I told Maria to send me an email and get Saturday afternoon off. When I mentioned the time, Maria's eyes got even bigger. Shit on crackers. Just how famous was this wedding already?

On my way out, it occurred to me that it was easier to stand straight when I thought of my self in a dominant role. That made sense and I could use it. Right then, I was my own Mistress and I was in posture training. I formed an image of myself, standing straight in a power suit. I kept it firmly in mind as I walked out the door. When I reached the car, Christine was smiling. She even spoke. "Strong." It was quite a speech.

The trip home was longer than I remembered. Sometimes I forgot that we actually lived out in the county. As we neared the gate, I started to wonder about how to open it, only to find it sliding aside as we approached. Gerald must have installed the GPS in Sheila's car. In the garage I handed off the keys and asked for help with the packages. No one said a word, but both Christine and I were getting a lot of looks.

Once in the house, I stopped in the kitchen for water and at the mail drop for my letter mail. I handed some water to Christine, who drank the entire bottle. On the way I pointed out where the packages could be dropped and sorted through the day's mail. Nothing interesting yet. Then I took Christine to the bathroom and used it myself. Finally, we were in the room I use when I am in town.

Technically, it was a guest room. "My" room is in the old house. It had no air conditioning, which was a serious drawback in my opinion. I quit using it the moment mother moved out, which was nine years before. As with many issues of my teen years, I would probably want to revisit it. If nothing else, Christine would like it.

That brought me back to Christine. I told her to strip naked and and lay on the bed, ankles to each end and ass to the middle of the room. That made Christine smile. It occurred to me that I would probably never understand how her mind worked. As she complied, I went to fetch my laptop. I was going to rub aloe and disinfectant cream into Christine's welts, then we needed to talk.

The damage was just as serious as I feared. The first several blows had left marks, but they were already fading. I rubbed some hand cream into those. The more serious areas were another story. I poured some aloe on the back of Christine's knees. She sighed. That alone told me that she was not in submissive mode. Christine's whole body seemed to lose tension.

Sean is the family expert on massage, but I an not entirely ignorant. Christine was feeling very comfortable, in spite of the serious bruising and her exposed posture. It was quite flattering when I thought of it. Christine trusted me. It gave me an insight into Christine's special relationship with Sheila. Reciprocal trust is a powerful binding agent. In turn I thought of the level of trust Sheila had offered to me. I really would have married her if Sean had not gotten to her first.

For the moment, I had Sheila's shadow to deal with and I had not reached the serious damage. I just squirted a gob at the division of her glutes and spread it around. Damn, these were bad. The skin had not parted, thank goodness, but everything short of that had happened. It was good that Christine was not wearing panties, because blood had seeped through the skin. The panties would have stuck.

As it was, the butt plug had protected a great deal, so Christine would at least be able to shit and wipe normally. That was no coincidence. Sheila had been knocking two birds with one stone. The protection did not extend to the ass cheeks, where the bruising would be nasty. I had not even gotten to her labia. That would require cleaning.

I went to the bathroom and returned with a wet wash cloth. As gently as I could, I brushed away the crusted blood and smoothed Neosporin onto the seeping tissue. Ye Gods. Aloe followed the disinfectant. Christine never uttered a sound. Nor would I.

Instead, I tossed a pillow onto the floor and told her to get comfortable. Christine needed a desk of some sort, so I pulled a box out of the closet. God only knows what was in it. I set her laptop on the box, then went to the table and opened my own. Only then did I ask the obvious.

DocRichards: How are you feeling. I have done what little I can. If necessary I can get a medical doctor, but I doubt he could do anything but ease the pain.

TrulyCC: Thank you, but I am fine as I am. It is a small enough price to pay. Mistress has already given me far more.

TrulyCC: Mistress trusts you, you know. You should be flattered. It is a very short list.

Now that it was out there, I was flattered. Earning the trust of some one like Sheila was no small thing. Speaking of no small thing...

DocRichards: You should know that Francine and I am humbled before your gift. We have only material things. Much of what we could give, Sheila would refuse. Yours is the true gift.

At that Christine turned completely red. She blushed throughout the entire anatomy. I know, because I could see it all. I had to say something.

DocRichards: Do not be embarrassed. I am only saying that Francine and I understand the true depth of your gift. I think it is important that you know that.

DocRichards: Sheila also knows, or she would never have accepted it.

DocRichards: You are worthy of your Mistress.

That did it. Christine finally broke down and cried. I motioned for her to come to me. She jumped out of her kneeling stance and smothered me with a hug. Hugs are one thing I am good at. I held her til the sobbing stopped.

Eventually I had to break us apart. I shut down both laptops and turned off the light. I slept spooned around a girl I barely knew, yet understood profoundly. It was a good night.

Chapter 17--The Calm

Interlude: 25^th Anniversary

Cindy:

They call Wednesday "Hump Day." Mom remembers it as a transition day. Dad calls it "The Amish Invasion." Aunt Jo says it was the first day she thought of what she would do after school. I have trouble believing that one. Aunt Francine flew to California—and back.

Sean:

It was bound to happen. I should have anticipated it in more depth. I distinctly remembered telling Sheila that she would be famous in her own name, but that was all I did. Blessed Jesus, I had no idea what was coming.

Wednesday morning dawned with another case of lips on my cock. While I could get used to this, I already had a foreboding. Earlier, my foreboding had to do with the wedding. I anticipated a big turnout. That concern had been adequately addressed. That morning I had a different premonition. As I said, I have learned to listen to my feelings.

So, hard as it was, I stopped Sheila in the middle of a blow job and warned her that the proverbial shit was about to hit the fan. To Sheila's credit, she accepted this as Gospel. Thank God. Lord only knows where we would have wound up otherwise.

Sheila and I adjourned to the shower. I shampooed her hair and told her about my gut and its feelings. Once I was finished, Sheila turned to me, thanked me, kissed me soundly, then left me alone in the shower. At the time, I was a bit put out. Now I am extremely grateful. I listened to my gut. Sheila acted.

In hindsight, it is all obvious. My catalog went out bearing both the names Mistress Cynthia and Sheila Schwartz. If anyone wanted to look for both, there was a chance that person would look for either. If you looked for Sheila Schwartz, you would get a twelve year old review of her Lincoln Center performance and our wedding announcement. Guess which the normal misfit would follow up.

To be sure, not all the attention was unwelcome. It is rather flattering if a bridal magazine wants to cover your wedding or if a major film company wants a new look at some old film. However, there were a lot of people that focused on Mistress Cynthia. That kind of attention Sheila could do without.

Regardless of all that, Wednesday morning started rather tamely, sans fiancée. I showered, had my usual breakfast and went to the office completely unaware of what was coming. The morning was consumed with the first reactions to our catalog, which were not unexpected. Nothing really hit my radar til Helen bounced me a query from Columbia Pictures. Even that I did not consider a problem. Instead, I had Legal set up a division of Digital Arts, so that I could make Sheila the VP in charge.

Of all my quick reactions that year, that one turned out the best.

Sheila:

I woke with a sick feeling. That did not stop me from sucking on Sean's prick, but I was not enjoying it. When Sean related similar fears, I was out of there like a shot. Only later did I think of how I left him half staff. I resolved to make things up to him later.

My first reaction was that I had overreacted. I had Gerald start tracking my names: real and assumed. All that had turned up so far was a TV spot from Francine's restaurant and a rather nice write up on a bondage blog. If I ever met davidspet, she would get a free session. I rather envied David, until I thought of what Christine had done for me. My submissive trumped his every time.

So, it was with a feeling of unease that I went to inspect the preparations. To say I was stunned diminishes the point. Various people had taken my half baked ideas and run with them. My quiet ball for 50 had been expanded into a full scale carnival for several hundred—complete with jugglers and clowns. Even that did not cover things. I was told of an expected army, excuse the expression, of Amish, to be arriving later that day. Almost the only thing left was my idea of using a floating altar.

Naturally, I emailed Helen. One does not call Helen and expect a response. Her response to my emails was that the local paper had caught wind of the preparations and wanted an interview. Rather than that, I told Helen to refer them to the catering staff. Helen agreed, but told me not to expect them to be satisfied. I told her that Justin was covering the ceremony and that he could supply them with all the pictures they wanted. Helen thought that might go over a bit better.

That done, I was able to focus on what had been done to the various rooms of the house. That was where I met Siobhan and Christine. Siobhan immediately apologized for not expanding Christine's abilities in the area of cunnilingus. I waved that aside, wanting a report from Christine. I swear to G_d, Christine gave me a thumbs up.

That made me look at Siobhan, who leaned forward. "I wiped off the dried blood and applied aloe and disinfectant. How in hell did you not break the skin?" That was enough for me. Siobhan and I embraced. Then she said, "I told her she was worthy of you. Until I said that, she would not cry." I wanted to cry at that, but it was the wrong time.

Instead, I pulled out my phone and called Gerald. "Good morning. How has your morning been so far."

Phone: Ma'am, I have seen worse days, but there are clouds on the horizon. Uh oh.

"Gerald, I hope this is not too far below your pay grade, but I want you to organize a cleanup party for my studio. They will need a lot of garment boxes. I will send CC along to keep an eye on things. Do not use more than two of your people. Take a crew of Sean's temps instead. Just have them box things and bring them here. I refer you to Spider Robinson for methodology. Clear?"

Phone: Ma'am, I would feel better if I could control the people involved a little more closely.

"Fine. One moment." I turned to Siobhan. "Pick out two of your people. I want to send them to my studio to pack up the costumes." Back to Gerald, "I am asking Siobhan to choose two of her grad students. With two of your people and Christine, that ought to be enough. Go ahead and pack up the lockers while you are at it. We need that area rendered harmless, or close to it. Clear?"

Phone: Two of mine, two of Miss Jo's and Christine. Empty the lockers and the wardrobe. Return contents to base, packed for storage. Mission understood. Hooyah.

I handed the phone to Siobhan. She said, "Gerald, you are such a softy." I swear I could hear him blushing. Siobhan told him who to pick up and where to go for the boxes. It was all very businesslike, except for the smile twitching at Siobhan's face. I held hold firmly to my interior yente. Either Siobhan and Gerald did, or they did not. I would do nothing more than put them in the same room occasionally.

Or Ballroom. Siobhan would be wearing a tux to the wedding, but we could get her a formal for the dance. Like Sean, she had a ruddy Irish complexion. Lavender would suit her well and it would contrast nicely with Army dress greens. It gave me something to think about while other people worked.

More to the moment, I had Christine to consider. I gave her a long overdue hug. I reminded her that we had a session scheduled with Jason and Richard. Then, I brought her up to date on what I needed done with the costumes and props. Christine merely nodded, as if it were the most natural request in the world. Perhaps to her it was. After Siobhan got off my phone, she went in search of her grad students while Christine and I headed for the studio.

I did not hear about my new role as Vice President for several hours.

Francine:

I hate waking up alone. I have been relentlessly single for well over a decade. Had I wished, there were several marriage offers and other relationships that might have resulted in one. None were what I wanted. However, I still missed waking up next to a warm body.

That morning I dragged myself out of bed before 10 AM and went to the Waffle House to get a small refuel. There were a couple of fans, but I do not attract them like I used to. I thought about Sheila, her change in life and her soon to be expected baby. I realized that I had passed a crossroads and had not realized it. I sighed a little. The days of Francine Martel, Broadway Diva, ended with nothing more than that.

Instead, the days of Francine Martel, producer and mogul began. I toasted the event with coffee. The man at the next table saw the gesture and toasted back. It was an omen if I wanted one. My first act was to see about office space near Broadway. That would take days, but I started the ball rolling. The second was to start assembling a staff. That would take even longer. I started making a list of people that already worked for me in some capacity. I would choose a manager. He/she could do the hiring.

While I was eating, I had a call back on my business line. One of my Hollywood contacts wanted more details on what Sheila did. I knew talent would find an out. Then I checked the time: 9:43 AM. That was 6:43 AM in California. He was up early, or had been up all night. Either way, he was a motivated potential client.