My Michelle Ch. 06

Regardless, Michelle would have to explain to Mommy and Daddy why she'd changed boyfriends, and why they weren't going to be swapping stocks at her wedding, and so on. We sure as hell weren't going to tell the truth, but something reasonable we could stick to. I suppose I'd have to fake normalcy and leave some of my weaponry in the car. But I was touched that she said "we" would have problems and not "I" would have problems.

Bacon time. "Okay, we have a couple weeks to fix that part. I don't even remember the last time you called home so I'm not going to panic over your parents yet. Halloween's closer, let's worry about doing that right." "It's been a couple weeks since I talked to them. They're kinda used to me only calling home to ask for money. They don't know ANYTHING about this, us, whatever. You're just that weird guy in the Metallica shirt who was still hanging around with my roommate."

"I'll let you handle talking to them. We can figure out the mechanics of letting them know we're engaged later on."

"Oh my God, yeah, I kinda proposed last night, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did, which is usually the guy's job to do. Second thoughts, my love?"

"Fuck, you said the L word! You bastard! Fuck, you have to get to class so I can't celebrate by cockteasing you until you ass-fuck me!"

"Okay, I'll take that as a no. Ring shopping is now on the to-do list since you sure as hell can't show your mom your collar. We've never even gone to see the guy in Nashville about getting your real one made. We're all kinds of behind the power curve in our planning process here. So, let's get caught up. First, what are you wearing for Halloween?"

She was happy for a change of subject from her parents, and her voice dropped to a husky Marilyn Monroe whisper as she giggled. "I don't know. What is my loving Master going to dress his loving slavegirl as?"

"Well, there's your schoolgirl outfit, the leather corset, you haven't really finished that soldier girl costume yet..." So far, that had involved a green Army Class A jacket, size 34, from the thrift shop on Highway 32, one of her black garter belts, and some alterations a friend in the SCA hadn't finished for her yet to "adjust" the cleavage.

"Fuck, you know what I saw in one of the magazines? A black leather French maid's dress with a built-in corset. Even the apron and frilly little headpiece were white glove leather. Holy shit, I got wet just thinking about putting it on." Her eyes rolled back in her head a little. "Leather slut and French maid roleplay at the same time. That's a two for one."

"OK, remind me to add that to your birthday presents list." Show me a guy who does not have at least one French maid fantasy, and I will show you a stone cold homosexual.

"Add a couple more pairs of leather panties. The last time I wore the red ones all day, they were so wet by the end they took two days to dry out and still don't look as good as new."

"Hmmm, might have to go to mail order for those, and for a higher grade of leather. The selection at Christie's is really hit or miss on that stuff, and it's not like we can call up there ahead of time to check the selection." Like I said in Chapter One, the days before online ordering could be a pain in the ass.

"I knew it was a risk, but they felt so good on my pussy I thought it would get me through that whole Thursday of classes. Four fucking hours, three of it in the same lecture hall. Fuck my life. I just wanted to get out of there and have you pick me up and come home."

"So you could cum at home after you came home, right?"

"Fuck yeah, actually you gave me a vibrator for the ride home after I begged. Like I said, you know what I need, you dirty fucker. And shit, I have to do it all again today."

That was one hell of a ride home last week. I would always remember it well. "Focus, Michelle, focus. Halloween. And eat faster, we gotta get going."

"OK, my vote, not that bratty slave sluts should technically have a vote but I'm also your fiancée now which gives me a bit of decision making authority back-"

"Oh, it does?" I laughed.

"Uh, if you want to be my well-kept boy-toy house husband when I bring home a low six figures next year it does."

"All right, I bet since you're first year at the firm you don't break seventy thousand, but I'll grant the point. And I don't plan on being an idle house-husband."

"OK, so you'll have the financial freedom to work the counter at some Dallas gun shop just for fun and the six bucks an hour for play money. Have a ball. I'll be the breadwinner. I know we won't have a mortgage, Mom and Dad are buying the house."

"No shit?" Well, there goes one legit way to slowly launder the $140,000 that was still hidden in the garage. I'd have to think of something else. I stood and put the dishes into the sink.

"No shit, family tradition. I'll just make sure they don't stick us with some mini-mansion in some stuck-up neighborhood we'll hate. Baby, you're marrying into old Southern money that's had a very good few decades lately. I'll do my best to keep you kept up. Now, as I was saying before I was interrupted-"

I was heading for the door into the living room anyway. "Michelle, I'm going to go get the riding crop."

"Oh, fuck yes, I was hoping you'd say that...maybe the cane..." she purred.

"Now before I threaten to punish you and you pretend not to enjoy it and we lose track of the conversation and I probably decide I'm not going to Special Topics, you were saying?"

"Tiffany's is having a Halloween night costume contest. I heard it on Rock 103. It's a fuckin' strip club. I can dress to win a costume contest at a fuckin' strip club."

"What were you thinking?"

"If I get the Army jacket back in time, I go with that. That's creativity. A few of your old ribbons for color, black leather bra for max cleavage, the panties and garter belt to match, black stockings, maybe the thigh high boots and one of the riding crops. Your mirrored shooting glasses from your rifle stuff too. Big hair, killer makeup, very domme-looking. I'll watch "Leather Bound Dykes From Hell" again to tune the look. "

Part of me wondered why she'd been watching lesbian porno tapes. Whatever.

"The sort of guys who fall in love with strippers will cum on themselves. The judges will eat it up. If I don't have the jacket back in time, Plan B is a see-through white blouse, my best red bra, the plaid skirt, no panties, white thigh-highs, and a really vicious pair of red stripper heels. Hair down in pigtails for that."

"Only suggestion I'd make is add a red thong to the schoolgirl plan. They're often sticky about letting amateur contest entrants and such go bottomless.

"Noted. I think I have a matched pair that will do nicely. What I don't have is the shoes. I have a perfect black pair, not red."

"Michelle, that means we better go to the store ahead of time. Fredericks, probably."

She giggled a little bit. "Yes, Master. If I promise to put out in return, would you give me a ride to go get some shoes tonight?"

We were interrupted by the phone ringing. I answered it. "Hello?" The caller ID was in the living room by that phone.

"Dave, have you left the house yet?" It was Dr. Dave Fitzgerald-Rodriguez (don't ask, long story), my prof for Special Topics.

"No, what's up?"

"One of the Ph.D candidates, I won't say which one, is having dissertation trouble. Would you be offended if I cancelled for today and just told you spend the day studying how you'd do America's war crimes in Latin America better and bloodier?" I had to laugh. I was 180 degrees off the guy politically, but we'd both been to Central America at different times and for different reasons. "No problem, I have plenty of books to read."

"Yeah, yours and the General's. God, what a house to rent."

"Too true, and cheap at the price."

"Great. Well, see you next Thursday then."

"Bye." I looked over at Michelle. "Well, beautiful, I don't have to be anywhere today now, and you don't have class until one."

She laughed, and her hands went up to the top buttons of her blouse. "Wow, how ever will we kill the next three hours?"

"Michelle?"

Her blouse flew to the side, as she arched her back. "Yes, Master?"

I gave in. "I love you."

She smiled, and her skirt slid to the floor. "I know."