Ignore the Warning Label Pt. 04

Nicole had let her borrow her set of a graphic novel series called Sunstone, which had pages upon pages of wonderfully drawn pictures to inspire Vivian's imagination. She settled back on her couch and thumbed through them. The fully covered look she was aiming for seemed to be more Ally's Domme character, which wasn't Vivian's role at all. Still, Master Paul wasn't going to be at the party anyway, so that probably didn't matter too much. The books did a fantastic job conveying the character's inner thoughts and emotions and Vivian found herself getting drawn into one of the hotter sex scenes.

A short while and an orgasm later, Vivian thought she knew what she wanted. Dark colors - blacks and some red - that would go with her dark hair and that she could accentuate with makeup. She liked the look of the corset and top combination Ally had worn for their first trip to the BDSM club "The Crimson", except Vivian would probably go for something that didn't have a giant hole in the chest for cleavage. She wanted to show off the laces on the corset, so her top would either need to cut off or fit underneath. She also wanted high heeled boots, the kind that would hug her legs up to her thighs. She'd go with a skirt to finish it off, to show off how long the boots would be.

Great! Now, where to get it? Living in Greenwich Village in Manhattan, she'd already seen a few candidates for stores that would have these things. She hopped onto her laptop to research where to begin.

But as she looked, her jaw dropped in disbelief. Sunstone joked about these things being expensive... but holy shit! Vivian made enough money not to get sticker shocked easily, but she'd also never spent a thousand of dollar on a single outfit before.

That took the air out of her balloon a bit.

Crestfallen, she sent a group text to Susan, Devyn, Nicole and Sam.

Vivian: Hey guys! Good morning

Vivian: Do you know what youre wearing to the party friday?

Vivian: If its not too much to ask... do any of you possibly have anything cute I could maybe borrow?

She fidgeted nervously, hoping that she wasn't being too forward asking her new friends to loan her clothes. After talking to Devyn last night, Vivian felt comfortable asking her, but doubted Devyn was the type to have a deep wardrobe of fetish wear. She suspected Sam was, though, and they looked like they would be close in size.

Sure enough, Sam responded just before lunch!

Samantha: Sorry just woke up

Samantha: Yes! I've got you covered.

Samantha: When can you come over to try things on?

----------

The problem with hoping your period times itself according to your schedule is that you're never actually happy, even if it does. I wanted mine to start Monday, after Malcolm left, so it would be over before The Valmont's Party. Maybe it was a bit of wishful thinking to hope Aunt Flow would thread the needle perfectly like that, but she fucking owed me after crashing Malcolm and my first date.

It did happen just like that! I knew I should have been grateful, but it still left me cramping, bloody and miserable on Monday. Mondays were already rough for me. Everybody says they hate Monday, but they're just complaining about saying goodbye to the freedom of the weekend. The end of my weekends meant the end of my time with Malcolm.

It wasn't getting any easier to say goodbye and return to the real world, and that Monday was especially difficult after our wonderful and emotional time together. First my birthday on Saturday with the bondage and orgasm overload, then the hypnosis yesterday? Going from that to nothing was like running into a brick wall.

It was technically just 17 miles between us across New York, but it really felt like we had a long-distance relationship.

It wouldn't have been so bad if we were able to connect more during the week. Malcolm's summer internship working for the law firm, however, absorbed so many hours that I worried about him getting enough sleep. They threw dry, boring legal reading at him that none of the full lawyers could be bothered to do, and it kept him up late every night. He organized his schedule so that we could be together on weekends without any work getting in the way, and somehow, he always found time to have something amazing prepared for the bedroom.

I tried to tell myself that feeling lonely was unreasonable. Our relationship was amazing and I loved it... but still, I found myself feeling jealous of the other interns Malcolm sent me selfies of eating lunch with. They got to spend more time with my boyfriend than I did.

I struggled with those feelings as I sweat and flexed my way through my morning at the gym. In the end, I was just mad at myself. We'd spent the weekend having fantastic sex and professing our love for each other, but here I was finding reasons to feel shitty. The Bloody Demon really sucks.

Nevertheless, I couldn't help but enjoy my core workout day. It helped sooth my raging uterus, and let's face it, everybody with abs and the slightest hint of vanity can't help but enjoy the way they look after getting their six-pack pump on. I used to be self-conscious about my body. I worried that I was too tall, too muscled and too much of a tomboy to be attractive to Malcolm. Now I knew better. Malcolm loved my physical strength because he loved to take it away from me and leave me kneeling at his feet.

After shoving my hormonal negativity aside, I had a lot to keep my mind occupied. I'd told Malcolm about my midnight conversation with Vivian. How she suffered through sub drop with a Dom who didn't care to give her the aftercare she needed. How she saw her sexuality as something to be ashamed of and internalized everything as her own failing.

I wanted to help her. I felt compelled to help her. We'd only known one another for a few weeks, but I already saw her as a close friend. Unfortunately, Malcolm didn't have a quick and easy fix. He didn't think it would be as simple as telling her to dump her sorry excuse for a master. I needed to find a way to make her understand that she had value as a person. Otherwise, she wouldn't see herself as worth sticking up for.

He said Vivian was lucky to have me on the case. I was, according to him, the most loyal friend he'd ever had, and I should just do what felt right to me. Do what felt right and eventually I'd teach Vivian some self-love. Which sounded nice, but I had no earthly idea how to do that. It frustrated me! It was so obvious, she was such an awesome person, how could she not see it?

'Then again,' I thought darkly, 'if I'd spent all my formative years believing I was an unlovable slut, I might have some issues too.'

I would see her after work at Nicole and Sam's house. They'd decided to call it a makeover party, and I'd been enlisted to add my expert opinion. When I tried to complain that I knew exactly nothing about fetish fashion, Sam laughed and said my real job would be to keep Nicole entertained while she made Vivian beautiful.

Well, I could certainly do worse for a Monday night's entertainment.

----------

Nicole and Sam's two cats loved me. Phedre and Melisande, named after characters from a virtually unknown book called Kushiel's Dart, leapt between Nicole and I as we tossed a ball of yarn Vivian had brought for them. When Nicole found out I'd never heard of the book, she insisted it was gaping hole in my shelf of fantasy novels and pressed her copy into my hands. It was quite good, somewhat like Game of Thrones in terms of political intrigue, except there was so much kinky sex that HBO would actually need to cut down on the nudity if they ever tried to make a series out of it.

In the book, Phedre was a masochist courtesan and Melisande was the perfect cruel sadist. The two cats didn't quite fit their namesakes. Melisande the cat was shy and Phedra was the authoritative one, but they were very cute chasing the yarn together for our amusement.

"This whole thing would be easier if we had storybook Doms like you," I said to Melisande as I scratched her chin.

"What's that?" Asked Nicole.

I nodded towards the bedroom where Sam was putting Vivian into another potential party outfit. "Affording clothes and toys and stuff."

"What do you mean?"

"You know, Dominants from stories are always filthy rich. It's the one thing the whole BDSM literature genre has in common."

Nicole laughed and tipped Melisande over to rub her tummy. "You think so?"

"Think about it! Think about everything you've ever read. Crap like 50 Shades, non-con fantasy like Twist Me, hell - even more realistic stuff like Sunstone. Fantasy Doms are always rich! I wish Malcolm got that memo before he went and plunged himself into six figures of debt for law school."

We both laughed and Nicole called out, "She's right! Sam! You're a Domme, why aren't you a millionaire?"

"Because you spend all our money on craft beer and t-shirts!" Sam's voice shot back from the direction of the bedroom. "It's a wonder we have anything left for food."

"Oh, right," Nicole rolled her eyes as she and I clinked two of the offending beer bottles together. "And I'm sure your shoes budget has nothing to do with it."

"If not for my fashion sense, both of us would go to work barefoot." Nicole, apparently, couldn't argue with that. I had seen Nicole dressed up for work once - she'd been totally unrecognizable in stylish heels and a conservative but compelling feminine dress that was clearly picked out by her girlfriend.

"And it's up to me to make sure we don't go thirsty once we get home!"

At that moment, Vivian and Sam both reentered the living room and Sam took the bottle from Nicole's hand. She enjoyed a long, slow gulp and gave a contented sigh before handing it back with a smile. "Yes. Whatever would I do without you?" Though sarcastic sounding, the way her voice and expression changed slightly betrayed her feelings. Sam and Nicole really were a great couple.

Sam had been trying to find something in their stockpiled collection that could be persuaded to fit Vivian and would go with the shoes, leggings and corset Vivian had already fallen in love with. The corset itself was meant for Nicole, as was the original accompanying outfit, but while the corset could be adjusted to fit Vivian's frame, the rest was far too small. There were other options to keep Vivian's ample, corset enhanced breasts and shoulders covered the way she'd wanted, but one by one we'd decided that none of them really worked.

This outfit went the other direction and made Vivian blush as she modeled it. Four-inch heels, beautifully intricate black stockings, and a knee length flowing dark dress with flashes of flame-like reds and yellow. The corset was a darkish glowing red color, which went well with the dress's flame patterns and must have accentuated Nicole's hair wonderfully when she wore it. The dress reappeared from under the corset, extending upwards just far enough to cup Vivian's breasts. It was strapless and fitted for the smaller chested Sam.

Vivian looked stunning in it.

"My god that's hot on you." Nicole said, and I quickly nodded in agreement.

"You-you think so?" Vivian stammered. "It isn't too much?" We all knew she was self-conscious about her bustiness.

"If you don't wear that, I'll persuade Malcolm to let me," I said. Malcolm, apparently, had an outfit prepared for me, and he was being very cryptic about it.

"The dress would be like a skirt on you," Nicole joked and Sam laughed.

"She's not THAT much taller than me." Sam took Vivian gently by the shoulder and spun her around for us. The corset really did wonders for her figure and she looked comfortable spinning in the high heeled shoes, stepping easily around in a circle. I admired her a bit for that. I absolutely suck at keeping my balance in anything higher than flats. "Yes, this is the one for you," Sam said decisively. "I'm sorry we couldn't find something less revealing, but trust me, you'll look like a nun compared to some people if you wear this."

"You really think so?" Vivian asked.

"Oh yeah," Nicole confirmed. "You wait and see, there will be more than enough bare tits to distract from your cleavage."

Vivian's eyes went wide. "There will!?!"

"Yes. Hers, for instance," Sam grinned as she nodded to Nicole. "I've got some new jewelry for her to show off." Something about the way Sam said that reminded me of Malcolm and the knowing smile he wore when he had something devious planned.

'Nicole showing off her jewelry!' That made my mouth water! Nicole had hinted to me before that she had four more piercings beyond the sexy orbital and helix rings she wore, but none of them were visible under her clothes. The idea of seeing a topless Nicole made me grin and squirm in my seat a little.

Sam and Nicole both noticed, and teased me mercilessly for it.

I was still a little mystified about the non-monogamous aspect of their relationship. They were both clearly in love, but they were open to sex with other people. It confused me even after both Malcolm and they themselves had explained why it didn't feel like cheating to them. Sex with other people was purely physical fun. They weren't looking for emotional fulfillment from it in the way they got from each other. Cheating, on the other hand, was a betrayal of trust. Everything they did, they always did with the other's full knowledge and blessing. Usually they did it together, as a threesome or foursome group.

Sam and Nicole actually felt like it enhanced their trust in each other. They could play with other people, but they would always be drawn back together like magnets because they were each other's perfect partner. Sam felt empowered by it, showing off samples of her submissive Firefly and commanding the action. Nicole liked rough play and said that being powerless between multiple people was a huge turn on for her.

I was still torn. I understood separating sex as an emotional experience from sex as pure physical fun. After all, I'd had many casual hookups in my life without feeling emotionally into any of them. Also, Nicole was fucking hot. I'm very choosey with my women, and she was exactly my type. I genuinely believed I could enjoy sex with her as an entirely physical act without it getting in the way of my love for Malcolm at all.

But, at the same time, I would die of jealously if I ever saw Malcolm having sex with anybody else. Deep in my gut, it seemed tremendously unfair of me to consider doing something that I couldn't live with my partner doing.

Malcolm didn't see it that way. To use the same metaphor he had, he got a dominant thrill out of throwing me away from himself like a boomerang, knowing I would circle around and land right in his arms again. He said that we were different people with different feelings, and that it wasn't unfair at all for us to have different emotional needs. My possessiveness of him didn't have to mean I didn't trust him, and his openness to scenes involving me with other people didn't have to mean that he wasn't attached to me.

He pointed out that it wasn't all selflessness on his part. Every guy with a bi girlfriend has some kind of fantasy of her with other women. Malcolm said that getting to play dominant director with Sam from the sidelines while Nicole and I went at it like their puppets would be tremendously hot for him.

He answered all my questions about it, but true to his word the first time it came up, he never let me feel pressured one way or the other. It had to be my choice, he refused to let me dive into something this emotionally heavy simply wanting to please him. I think he was actually fascinated watching me struggle with it. To him, it was like a psychology experiment. Much later on, I would find out that he and Sam had actually made a bet about it.

I bore their entirely accurate teasing accusations that I'd been fantasizing about Nicole's naked tits until Vivian bailed me out. "So guys, how am I supposed to get to the party dressed like this?"

Grateful for her change of subject, I quickly answered, "you don't have to, people will be changing once they get there. You should go in casual clothes. It helps maintain the illusion for the neighbors that there isn't a big deviant gathering happening."

"Oh, good," said Vivian, visibly relieved that she wouldn't have to walk across SoHo dressed to turn tricks.

Sam had gone to the kitchen and returned with a fresh beer for each of us. "I just fed you an hour ago!" She admonished Phedre's hopeful meow. "Yeah, wait till you see this place! There's enough room for everybody to have their own private changing area."

"Perfect for when people want to break away and fuck," Nicole nodded knowingly.

"And Jeff and Natalie are fine with people doing that?" I asked.

"As long as you bring your own toys and don't make them do anything more than change the sheets afterward, they're... well, not fine with it exactly, but willing to put up with it once in a while."

We returned to playing with the cats while we chatted and got tipsy. Phedre and Melisande found endless amusement in Vivian's knitting yarn and jumped high as we passed it between us over their heads. Eventually, they figured out how to work as a team and caught up to the trailing thread. Gleefully purring, they unwound the ball batting it between their paws, and found themselves hopelessly tangled up in it.

"Should we help them?" Vivian asked concernedly.

"Hell no! They got themselves in, let them get themselves out," Sam said. The cats struggled for a little, which only tangled them up worse, then they gave up and started licking each other. It was really cute, and in our beer altered states, Vivian and I couldn't help laughing and accusing Sam and Nicole of teaching their cats about bondage sex.

Afterwards, Vivian and I walked together as far as her train, giggling and chatting about nothing. Vivian was convinced that the prevalence of flopping made the NBA unwatchable compared to college basketball. Coming on the heels of the 2018 playoffs - featuring Harden trying his damnedest to flop his way to victory over The Warriors, and then The Warriors wiping the floor with Lebron... I couldn't exactly disagree.

She was warm and upbeat, the way she usually was. It was hard to imagine that she was the same person who called me in tears just two nights ago. Should I check in on her? Ask if she was feeling better? Would that come across as caring or nagging?

Before I could decide, Vivian said, "We talked so much Saturday night and just now, but I forgot to ask! How was your romantic weekend with Malcolm?"

Echoes of the weekend bounced around my head. 'He loves me! He loves me!' I grinned like a fool. It was the beer's fault, I swear!

Vivian noticed. "That good, huh? Spill!"

"Well... we exchanged our first I-Love-You's." Vivian gasped and hugged me as we walked.

"Oh my god, that's amazing! You've been friends for so long and it finally happened! Tell me! Tell me!"

She asked, I told, sparing few of the erotic details. Vivian gushed when I recounted Malcolm beating me to the punch then gagging me and making me wait to say it back. It felt like I'd known Vivian for years. She was so thrilled, so genuinely happy for Malcolm and me, I felt touched. She made me feel special all over again. Malcolm thought that Vivian was lucky to have me as a friend? Well, I felt blessed to have her in my life.

Vivian doesn't have a single jealous bone in her body. I had the emotional connection with my partner that Vivian longed to feel with hers, but she didn't envy nor begrudge me at all. If we were similar in some ways, we were polar opposites in that one. Envy has always been my deadly sin of choice. I'd nearly fucked my friendship with Malcolm many times because of my crippling jealousy of all his girlfriends. Even just this morning, I felt flashes of it for random coworkers who got to see him more than I did. But Vivian? She never wished anything but the very best for her friends.