Contract Modifications

by Tigger
© 2002

 

Part VI

 

Chapter 21: Interchanges

Humming happily, Mary reviewed the papers Consuella had brought up from the island. Sally had done very well - these detailed plans for a regular client's upcoming visit to La Marquesa's dungeons were excellent. Imaginative and sensual, dramatic and demanding - yet at the same time, safe. The girl had the makings of a superb Domme, despite her stated preferences for the other side of the whip.

Mary had long ago recognized that talent, that potential, but had done nothing about it. That was unusual on Mary's part, for she had, in the past, at least exposed most of the other supposedly 'purely submissive' women who'd worked for or with her to the dominant role. Was her failure to train Sally as a domina REALLY in deference to Sally's oft-stated personal desires, or had she, Mary, decided not to do anything that might alter the loving dynamic they shared together?

Why hadn't she pushed that button with Sally? Certainly, their relationship was easy now - well, maybe easiER - because Sally was always in 'sub-mode' and therefore didn't have to worry about shedding dominant attitudes when she left a client and entered Mary's space.

But, the question was, easier for whom? For Sally? Or For Mary? Was she helping her beloved, or stunting her development? And if she was hindering her lover's personal growth, what did that say about Mary Margaret O'Hurley's brand of dominance?

Nothing Mary liked at all.

She was a Sister!

A member in the Delta of Venus!

She believed that Dominance existed, first and foremost, to free the submissive from limits that weren't real; from barriers to growth that existed only in the mind, not in fact.

Had she become just such a barrier? Would Sally be happier, more fulfilled, if she became Mistress Sally? They didn't know because they'd never tried, but her girl certainly had a thorough understanding of the technical and psychological aspects of good dominance - the proof of that was in these plans.

"Note to self," she said firmly into her little dictation recorder, "Sally starts working into the Mistress rotation starting with the next client. Justify by telling her we're short-handed. Make it an order if necessary. Start her off with the sleep-time guard watches, but start her. Observe reaction and decide how much further to take this."

There, it was done - the decision was made. She just hoped she wouldn't regret it, wouldn't lose her Sally, but if her little bird didn't come back when Mary set her free, she wasn't really Mary's to begin with, was she?

The phone rang, breaking Mary's thoughts. Gratefully, she put the plans and recorder aside and picked up the phone. "Yes?" she said into the receiver.

"Ms O'Hurley? Have you a few moments, ma'am?"

"Joe.. I mean, Jack, hello. Yes, of course I do. What do you have for me?"

"We've got something pretty hot, Ma'am, from the investigations in Derrick Tolivar's neighborhood.

~-~

"I'm sorry, Ms. O'Hurley," the executive secretary said, "but Ms. Johnson is in a client meeting right now. I'm really not certain when she'll be available but she told me that she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances."

"I see," Mary replied, trying to keep temper out of her voice. "Then, please ask her to call as soon as possible. She has my cell phone number. This is very important."

"Yes, ma'am. Might I have the cell phone number so she doesn't have to search for it and can call you the moment she gets this message?"

Mary gave her the number and hung up. There wasn't anything more she could do except wait.

God, but she positively loathed waiting.

~-~

". . . and subject to your questions, ladies and gentlemen, that concludes the formal phase of our presentation," Ed finished.

Once again, it was the same key players - his team, Veronica, Helen and Derrick - but this time augmented by Andrushka and ten members of her management team. It was fortunate, he thought, that they hadn't gone with a canned voice-over because the suits from Andrushka's marketing company been on the offensive since before all the 'hellos' and 'glad to meet yous' had even been said.

Until Andrushka, wearing an attractive, yet conservatively cut business suit, and looking every inch the young executive will-soon-be, had shut them up midway through the presentation.

Well, Ed thought, at least they'd gotten all the way through the pitch, which was the first battle. Now, the next few minutes would tell the tale as to whether this advertising concept was just TOO different to stand a chance.

~-~

"She LOVED it!" Veronica squealed, launching herself into Ed's arms once they were alone in her office.

"Her team didn't," Ed put in, thoroughly enjoying his armful of redhead.

Veronica squirmed out of his arms and began to pace the room, energy radiating from her in pulsing waves. "Doesn't matter. She did, and she's going to win. She's in charge there, even if they don't want to admit it. Trust me on this, Ed. Takes one to know one."

"A Sister-to-be?" he asked smiling.

"If she receives proper training," Veronica replied, moving over to her desk and beginning to sort through the pink call-slips stacked there. Her secretary had already left for her lunch-time walk in the park when they'd returned from escorting Andrushka and her party back to the lobby.

Her hands stopped when she recognized the name on the third slip. "Something's up," she told Ed, even as she began punching a number into her phone.

~-~

"That's really, well, incredible, Mary," Ed said into the speaker phone.

"I think we have to believe it, Ed, because it fits the facts. The next door neighbor remembers because Derrick asked her to water his plants for him. The kid remembers because Derrick came back driving something other than his 'really cool ride'."

"Derrick drives one of those Beamer two-seater convertibles, doesn't he, Ed?" Veronica asked.

"It's a BMW?" Ed replied, sarcastically. "It's a convertible, and I don't think there's room in it for more than two seats. I only know mine's a Volvo because I have to write the check for the lease payment every month when I do my bills."

"A Volvo? Yellow, Ed?" Mary's voice piped in. "Four-door?"

"Yes, it is."

"That's what Derrick Tolivar was driving the day he returned. We don't know the tag number because the kid wouldn't have recognized it, and we didn't want to ask anyway because that might have caused talk that would get back to our young friend, but not many companies rent Volvos."

"How would he be able to get in? I have electronic door locks and alarms."

"His family business has an electronics division, and he minored in computer science at college. I don't think a simple keyless entry system would be too hard to crack if he could get his hands on one of your remotes, Ed. At least, my investigator thinks that."

"How often have I warned you not to leave your keys on your desk, Ed?" Veronica asked, suddenly cross. "Well, that certainly adds to an already rather hectic day," she added.

"Oh?" Mary asked.

Veronica quickly filled the other woman in on the day's accomplishments and challenges. The other end of the phone went silent for several moments before Mary put in. "You know, Verita, if we're right about Tolivar, your little computer glitch . . "

"LITTLE?" Ed squawked. "We almost lost any chance of landing a multi-multi-million dollar account over that 'glitch'."

"Exactly," Mary replied. "Someone has already tried to sabotage you once by using me, and now, just when you have the opportunity for a huge personal and professional success, critical equipment fails."

"Critical equipment that is, ordinarily, highly reliable," Veronica continued, "and that Derrick would know how to damage. I am not liking this, Mary."

"Unfortunately, it's all circumstantial, and we can't really take it to the police, anyway. Not without exposing Ed's and your reputations to potentially great harm."

"But how would Derrick know about Black Rose?" Ed asked. "About you, Mary?"

"An excellent question. He plays, you know."

"What?" Mary and Ed both asked.

"When I visited you, Verita, and we met the young man? I saw his wrists - he'd been recently handcuffed, and none-to-gently. There were the characteristic bruises resulting from too lengthy a session with too-tight bracelets. Do you know if he's a member of the Black Rose, Verita?"

"Not under his real name," the auburn-haired executive answered, instantly. "I'd know, just as I knew when Edward started connecting with the group. And I still would have recognized him from his application photo if he tried to join under an alias."

"I've got my investigator watching him more closely, but if you could do some checking, dear?"

"Tonight," Veronica said firmly. "I'll check our membership records tonight."

"I'll go, too," Ed put in. "Two of us can get done quicker."

Veronica looked like she was about to object, but smiled, rather wickedly, instead. "If you insist, dear."

~-~

And he'd thought grown-up women's clothing was humiliating, Ed mused as he riffled through yet another stack of membership files. Betty Boop was better than this.

A glance toward the mirrored wall clearly showed that nothing had changed since the last time he'd checked. Looking back at him from the world on the other side of the glass was a living, breathing, nearly six foot tall incarnation of the classic ragdoll - right down to a be-freckled face framed by the standard carrot-orange yarn pigtails. Idly, he wondered who would make, or better yet, spend real money for adult sized doll clothes and shoes. Lord above, but the bow Veronica had tied above his butt to hold that silly pinafore thing in place could double as a radar antenna. If he'd been able to do so, he would complain about this get up - loudly, but Veronica had anticipated that. An inflatable gag, shaped like baby's pacifier, sometimes called a 'dummy' for very good reason, now filled his mouth to bursting. It was a good thing he didn't have a head cold.

One thing he didn't need this time was blusher!

Sighing as best he could around the rubbery bulk, Ed picked up the last folder in this stack - another woman. Obviously not his man.

Or was she. . .he? Certainly, Edie had been welcomed. Would Derrick make a passable female? With Veronica's skillful intercession, Ed had, hadn't he? And if anything, Derrick's youthful skin and slender frame would seem to make him a better candidate for passably cross-dressing. Wouldn't it? Mary said he was playing. What if he was dressing, and gained covert entry to the Black Rose by impersonating a female? Maybe even a Domina, so he could hide the physical indicator of his gender?

Rising, 'Dolly' shambled over to where Veronica was pouring over her own stack of files. He'd allowed himself to forget about the hobbles on his ankles. Impatiently, he waited for her to acknowledge his presence. When she looked up, he pointed to his mouth and said "uh uh uh!"

"Aw. . .," Veronica cooed, obviously thoroughly enjoying the game, "Dolly-poopsie wants her dummy out?".

Ed nodded his head with childlike vigor, and pointed to the folder he held. "Ah ah," she chided, waving her index finger back and forth in admonishment, "Dolly has to stay dummied 'cause she was a bad girl - called Mommy by her grownup name."

He just couldn't help it - he actually stamped his foot in frustration, and nearly fell when the raised foot pulled the hobble tight on his grounded foot and unbalanced him. He pointed to the folder again, practically poking his finger through it this time. "Uh, uh, UH!!"

This time, Veronica took the folder and looked at it. "This is a woman, Dolly," she said in a less 'adult-to-baby' tone.

Ed nodded again. "It's not Derrick. Is this someone you know?"

Ed shook his head. Resigned that Veronica wasn't going to ungag him unless he gave the agreed upon mercy signal, he began to play charades with her. He'd only use the mercy signal if this didn't work.

In a move that must have looked ludicrous in his exaggeratedly 'little-girl' garb, Ed put his hands on his hips and wiggled them saucily.

"Cute, Dolly," Veronica told him. "Just like a grown up bad girl. So?"

Nodding to show she'd gotten that clue right, Ed made a show of looking right and left, and then brought his index finger to his gag-distorted lips in the universal signal for quiet.

"You don't want me to talk?" Ed shook his head and repeated the gestures more graphically. "A secret? Something you don't want me to tell someone else?"

Ed nodded again, and once more repeated the looks and the call for secrecy. With that, and still acting furtively, he lifted the front of Dolly's skirt and pointed to his own harnessed manhood before pulling the skirt back down in feigned, overdone embarrassment.

"The secret is that you're really a boy?" Veronica asked.

Ed pointed to himself and shook his head, but then picked the picture in the folder and nodded. "You think she might be a boy?" and then the violet eyes went wide. "You think that DERRICK might have tried to join Black Rose disguised as a woman?" Ed nodded so hard his braids slapped him in the face.

Veronica thought about that, and then shook her head. "I don't think so, Ed," she said seriously, "First, because if any guy did that, I'd know, okay? My taste for cross-dressed playmates is well known by my friends in the group, and someone would have told me about a new sissy on the playground. Secondly, we require blood tests from all our full members. We don't allow sex, that is, actual intercourse, at our parties, but sometimes accidents happen and blood gets spilled, so we have to know that our members are not carrying HIV or hepatitis or some other blood-borne disease. One piece of data that comes back on those test results is gender. If the blood sample analysis said 'boy', but the application form said 'girl', that discrepancy would be immediately flagged for further investigation, okay?"

Deflated, Ed nodded and picked up the file, only to be caught by the wrist. Veronica went up on tiptoe and kissed his freckled cheek. "Good thinking, dear. I never thought of that."

Grinning as much as an overstuffed mouth would permit, Ed swept his hands down over his dress and pointed to his head. Veronica laughed and kissed him again. "Yeah, I guess it would be on your mind. Good girl, Dolly."

~-~

"I keep telling you it was a good cover for us in case another member showed up while we were going through the files," Veronica said testily, as she maneuvered her car through the night-empty streets.

"I didn't say a thing," Ed replied, with quiet dignity.

"You're thinking loud enough you don't NEED to say anything!" the petite woman snapped, "And every time I look at you you're rubbing your jaw."

"It was perfect cover, just as you say," he replied obsequiously, "but my jaw is a little sore. I'm not used to keeping my mouth that wide open so long."

"If it was bothering you, then why the hell didn't you safe-signal!?!" Veronica growled. "I'd have taken it out. That's why we have code words and signals, dammit!"

"That. . . that's allowed? I mean, it wasn't like I was bleeding or anything. . ."

Without warning, Veronica pulled the car off the road to a jerking stop and rested her head on the steering wheel. "Dammit, dammit, dammit!" she breathed.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Veronica. Gumdrops! Whatever I did. . .I mean. ."

"No," she sighed, looking up at him. "It's not you. I just keep forgetting how little you really know about how these games are played - about how I play these games. Ed, here is Rule ONE, okay? A safe word or code is NEVER wrong if it means what it is supposed to mean - that whatever is happening has become TOO MUCH. It doesn't have to be too painful or too embarrassing. In this case, it can mean that you've worn the gag for too long and your jaw is starting to ache."

"I thought that safewording was, well, a sign of weakness."

"I consider a properly given safeword to be a sign of strength," she said quietly. "I need you to be strong for me, Ed, because I like to play hard. I need you to be strong enough to go as far as you can, and strong enough to tell me when it is going beyond that. Otherwise, it can't be good for either of us, and Ed?"

"Yes?"

"When we do play - for real - where it's just for the two of us and not part of this damned mess at work? I want it to be VERY good - for both of us."

Ed stared at her for several moments, and then nodded. "So do I. Okay, I will do my best to be strong both ways."

She leaned over for a hug and a kiss. "Good. Come on. I need to call Mary and tell her what we found."

"We found nothing."

"No, we found that Derrick isn't a member of Black Rose. That's something. What it means, we don't know, but it is still another piece that has to be fit into the puzzle."

 

Chapter 22: Breakthroughs

The following workday, it was almost ten in the morning before Ed managed a free moment. He found Veronica's secretary gone - coffee break, probably - and peaked inside the open office door. The petite redhead was apparently lost in thought, gazing fixedly out her window.

"Hi," he said softly, but she started nonetheless.

"Hi, yourself. Been avoiding me. . . after last night?" she asked, her face suddenly anxious.

"Hardly," he replied. "Had an email from Andrushka's people to answer - a bunch of questions and comments from yesterday's meeting."

"Anything big?" This was the advertising professional asking.

"All easily handled - no show stoppers, but full credit to them for trying to find one. They hate the concept, but they're stymied because she loves it."

"She wants to grow up, and they're afraid their meal ticket will go away when she finally does." She went quiet for a moment, and then got up, moving over to stand face-to-face with him. "Are you. .. umm, .. WE okay with last night? Really?"

That she was still uncertain about the outcome of her little game momentarily surprised Ed. Then, it warmed him - obviously his feelings about their play were important to her, and she was afraid she'd overstepped. The quirky sense of humor that often got him in trouble with the stuffed shirts poked it's nose up. "Well, maybe next time?"

"Next time?" she said, hope in her tones. "What about next time?"

"Well, maybe we could just go with a thong and a bowtie - let me do my Chippendale impression for you. I'm still combing orange yarn out of my hair."

The look on her face was priceless. "Yarn?" she finally managed before dissolving into a very un-domme-ly fit of giggles. "Yarn!" she hooted and then poked him playfully in the belly. When he huffed at the blow, she jumped up to hug him. "Chippendale, huh? Got the abs for it, big fella?"

His arms automatically came around her, drawing her close. "Guess not," he admitted. "Oh well, guess I can play Raggedy Annie again sometime for you."

"For me," she sighed, her body melting against him.

"Veronica, Ed, we need to . . . oh, shit. . umm. . . excuse us. . "

Ed and Veronica jumped apart, both blushing like teenagers caught necking in the auditorium by the principal. An equally embarrassed Ken and Didi stared wide-eyed at them from the door. Veronica recovered first. "Okay," she said evenly. "What's up? Sounded important."

Ken and Didi shared a look and a shrug, and then stepped inside. They were careful to shut the office door behind them. "Couldn't you have waited until she got promoted and left," Ken glared at Ed. "Now, she'll have to recuse herself when it comes time to appoint her replacement so the person making the decision may not appreciate you as much as he should."

"What are you talking about?" Ed asked confused.

"Well, Ken and me were kinda hoping we wouldn't be working for Empress Helen when Veronica leaves," Didi said, "and you were our best hope. I mean, it's been plain as day that you're head over heels for Veronica, Ed, but why NOW? And HERE?"

Ed glanced over at Veronica who gave him a 'it's your decision look' in return. "I wasn't going to take the job anyway, guys. You know how little I like the business side of all this. I only took the team leader job because of the money, and the only things that made it worthwhile was working with you two and working for Veronica. You guys are in line for bigger and better things, and so's she. I'm thinking of going out on my own - doing some freelance consulting stuff after Veronica gets promoted."

"So you can still pursue the lovely lady, eh?" Didi teased. "Well, when did THIS happen, you two? Let's have the facts, and, ah, don't worry about being TOO detailed."

"Oh, gumdrops! Well, it's . . . something that started getting serious recently. . ." Ed fumbled, "Like, oh, since my . . my vacation."

Ken saw Veronica's eyes go wide and then harden momentarily - a clear indication that something about that vacation comment angered the little redhead. And Ed never stammered - except when he was trying to hide something. Ed was a great guy, and almost too honest for his own good - he couldn't lie for shit. "Okay, that's it," he said carefully. "Why am I getting the idea that vacation wasn't quite what I thought it was?"

No one said another word for several moments. The two newcomers took their cue from Veronica, whose eyes were fixed on Ed. Finally, he sighed, "Veronica? I know what we said - about it having to be someone from work? But not these two."

"You're sure, Ed?"

"Yes," was all he said before turning back to his teammates. "Have a seat, okay? This will take a bit of time to explain."

~-~

"Ed - kidnaped? By mistake?" Didi's voice was an almost soundless squeak.

"It was a mistake," Ed said evenly. "A sort of adventure game that, had I been the person they were expecting, might have been very exciting. They - that is, the people running that camp - expected it would be exciting and so they didn't recognize my fear and terror for what it was. They thought I was just a really good actor."

The story had been true in most of the facts. If La Marquesa's Dominance Spa had described as a true adventure prison camp escape scenario, then that still conveyed Ed's feelings during the experience accurately enough.

"And when you came back, you were edgy, nervous - I remember thinking your attention span was almost nil," Ken thought aloud.

"We think the plan was to make him look bad professionally, or maybe even make him run away," Veronica told them.

"And you think that Derrick was behind it?"

"We have some evidence that points to him," she said carefully.

"Well, the servers going down the way they did, the night before the big presentation? That certainly might have been him. He's got the technical smarts to pull off something like that, and to do it covertly, too. . . and I admit he's got a motive. . . but still," Ken thought about it for a few more moments before shaking his head emphatically. "I just can't buy him as the evil genius type."

"Why not, Ken?" Veronica asked.

"Look, guys, I've worked with Derrick for two years now, okay? And bottom line? He's not the sharpest pin in the cushion, okay? Sure as hell, he's not sharp enough to work something this out. Not by himself, anyway."

Ed and Veronica both looked like they were about to contradict him, but then Didi held up her hand for quiet. "He knows his electronics, but you've both worked with the guy, right? He couldn't plan a decent lunch menu, let alone a multi-leveled trap scheme like you described."

Ed and Veronica stared at Ken, then Didi and finally, then at each other. "Damn," Veronica breathed, "we never thought of that! An accomplice?!"

"Oh, great. Now I can REALLY be paranoid," Ed growled. "Two for the price of one. The question is, who?"

"Oh come on, Ed," Didi snorted. "Who else could it be but Helen? She's been trying to drag you down ever since the rumors of the Veronica moving into that open V.P. slot first started last year."

"But how did she know about. . ." Ed started to ask and then shut up at a sharp look from Veronica.

~-~

"Yes, Veronica," Mary said into her cell phone, "I know that this scenario also fits the facts, but it is more complicated, which indicates against it. Occam's Razor, right? And besides, didn't you tell me she isn't a member of the Black Rose, and we know she's not a Sister. How could she know about me and my little holiday resort?"

"I don't have answers for that yet. Maybe tomorrow when I try to go through Calliope's records during the play party, I'll find something, but I think Ken and Didi's evaluation of this being far beyond Derrick Tolivar's capabilities is right on. I don't know why I didn't see that myself, but it's true, nonetheless. He's okay in the short term, or in the execution of a preexisting plan, but he's just not a long range or strategic thinker. It's why he's still only an assistant."

"Oh, very well, Verita. I will contact my investigator and have him pull together everything he has on this Helen Martin person. I hope we're not grasping at straws. I do have a business of my own to run, you know."

 

Chapter 23: Party Time!

For what had to be at LEAST the tenth time since entering Veronica's car, Ed settled himself deeper into the car's seat. . . and felt his bottom slide against the leather.

"Silk's like that, sweetie," an amused Veronica said from the driver's side.

"Busted," he sighed.

"It's not the seat that's discomfiting you, Ed," she told him gently. "It's the butt, or rather, what's ON the butt that's on that seat."

'The butt', he reflected, was swathed in silk, calf-length pantlets - bright red silk, at that - and every twitch of 'the butt' reminded him of that fact. It was part of his 'stalking mare' guise for this evening's play party. His job was to draw as much attention as possible in order to permit Veronica to slip away unnoticed. Given what went with the pantlets, drawing attention would NOT be a problem.

He looked like Jessica Rabbit outfitted for a fetish magazine photo-shoot. Long, softly curling red hair flowed about his face, half-hiding one vividly colored eye, while a triangular beauty patch on the opposite cheek drew attention to the other. His mouth was. . . well, if Veronica had made his lips any larger he'd have needed a red ball for his nose and white greasepaint for his face instead of the rouge that raised and sharpened his cheekbones.

A combination bolero-jacket and merry-widow corset (over a bosom of incredibly life-like false breasts) gave every indication of real cleavage. A garter belt, in matching black and red leather, held up classically trashy fishnet stockings - and his feet were already complaining about the red spiked-heels that were squeezing his toes.

"It's not too late to turn around," Veronica reminded him gently. "That outfit is only the beginning, love. I've tried to impress upon you just how difficult this experience is likely to be for you - and while I'm in Calliope's office, the only protection you'll have is that scarf and your safeword. You're new, you're cross-dressed and cute, and you're obviously nervous as hell. That combination is going to draw the members like a honey draws flies."

"Then, that's all to the good, isn't it?" Ed replied, trying to infuse his voice with far more confidence than he actually felt at that moment. Truth to tell - which he wasn't about to - he was scared spitless. He hadn't been rigged out this. . . blatantly since La Marquesa's, and that had not been at all fun. Still, Veronica needed him, needed him like this, and that, as the saying went, was that.

She pulled into a parking place outside the large Victorian styled house, shut off the engine, and looked at him. "Ed, once we're inside, every eye will be on you, even before I stake you out for open play. If we leave early, or. . ." she stopped, considering her next words and decided they had to be said. "Look, love, if you safeword in there, and I'm not nearby, that is going to call more attention to us than we want. People will start looking for me because I have a reputation for taking care of my playmates. They'll start looking, and worse, they'll start asking more of those questions we won't want to answer."

He nodded, having already considered those questions, thanks to some prodding from a surprisingly anxious Mary. He dropped his voice to it's lowest register, "Ma'am? Sometimes, a man's gotta do. .," he paused, and then continued in the voice she'd taught him to use when rigged out as Edie, "What a woman's gotta do. Let's go get this done, Mistress."

Veronica looked at the feminine creature she'd created the past few hours and smiled gently. "Indeed we shall. Just make sure that you remember what I told you about protocol, slavegirl. Now, start shakin' that sassy little ass, okay? C'mon, you sexy thang, strut your stuff."

~-~

"Veronica, how lovely of you to come," Lady Calliope gushed when she opened the door to admit them. She was taller than average, and unapologetically voluptuous - a fact she advertised in the skin-tight leather and latex catsuit the covered everything and hid nothing. She was also, Ed decided, older than his mother - a fact that almost threw him. "And who is this sweetly dressed sissy?

"Lady Calliope," Veronica said formally, "May I present my slave, Edie, to you."

Ed, now Edie, curtsied, albeit without a skirt, earning a smile from matronly domina. "Nicely done, dear," Lady Calliope approved warmly. "A pleasure to meet you."

"And an honor to meet you, Lady," Edie replied.

"Oh, and why might that be?" Calliope surprised Edie by asking.

Veronica had not coached her on how to handle such an interchange, and she was, again, momentarily at a loss. In for a penny, in for a pound, the sexily turned out submissive thought. "I know that my Mistress respects you a very great deal, Lady, both as a person and as a dominant woman. Meeting someone my Mistress respects is always both a pleasure and an honor."

Calliope smiled at that. "A sweet-speaking tongue on this one, Veronica. If it does as well at . . .other tasks, she might well be worth the keeping. Have you. . . tested that yet?"

Veronica laughed. "Look at her scarf, Cal."

The black-clad dominant did look at the scarf about Edie's throat and her eyes went wide. "My goodness," she exclaimed, "But, didn't you tell me you were putting her on the dias?"

"With the scarf on," Veronica replied firmly. "And trusting that anyone at one of your parties will respect ALL its meanings."

"Indeed they will, my dear," Calliope said, firmly. "Still, it will make the evening interesting, won't it? Now, you must excuse me as I have some things to set up. Enjoy the buffet. Playtime in an hour or so."

"You made an impression, sweetie," Veronica mused, patting Edie on the fanny. "Calliope will certainly be there to watch you."

"What did you mean about the scarf, Mistress?" Edie asked. "It sounded important."

"Later," Veronica replied, beginning to lead Edie toward the buffet. "I'll explain it later. Now, be a good little sissy-sub and prepare a plate for me. You can practice hand-feeding me on your knees as a warm-up - and to draw more interest in your sexy self. By now, Calliope's told at least half the guests about you and my plans for you, and they, in their turn, will tell the other half. Perfect."

~-~

Mistress Verita's last act, after securing Edie's head, feet and arms into the standing display pillory, was to retie the white-silk neck scarf around her sissy-sub's eyes as a makeshift blindfold. "Try to enjoy yourself, sweetie," she said softly into Edie's ear, "They really are good folks, for all they like to play a little rough by times. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Her reticence to follow the established protocol of disappearing following presentation was not lost on Calliope. Seeing the usually confident Veronica biting her lip and all but wringing her hands, she smiled. "You're worried," she observed as she slipped in behind the petite redhead. "And he's about as rigidly terrified as any sub I've ever seen. The white silk is true, then?"

"In a very important way, Cal," Veronica admitted. "Before coming to me, his only prior experiences were total disasters - so terrible, in fact, that he has only the barest idea what this thing of ours should be like. That's why he's so frightened up there. No matter what I say, in the back of his mind, he expects this to be just as bad as it was for him those first times."

Calliope's head snapped up at that. "Then should he even be up there?"

"I wish he wasn't," she admitted, more truthfully than the older domina knew. "But, he's determined to prove himself to me - refuses to deny me something he knows I like because of what he perceives as a weakness on his part."

"A dragon fighter, eh?" Calliope mused. "Isn't that marvelous. I like him even more than I did before."

"Yeah, and I thought that one of your parties would be the safest public place for him to confront those dragons."

Touched, Calliope patted her friend's shoulder. "Run along, Lady-Fair. I'll watch over your knight-in-shining-satin during his spirit-quest," she promised, and then asked, "Oh, Sister? What's his safeword?"

"Verita," Veronica said evenly.

"Oh, my," Calliope breathed, awed. "That way, is it?"

"Yes. I want his safeword to remind anyone who takes him that far just who owns him. Be back in a half hour. Watch out for that bitch in the green latex, will you, Cal? I don't like the way she's drooling."

Calliope grinned at that, thinking that 'the bitch' wasn't the only one who was 'green' at that moment. It was a term that accurately described both the slave and the Mistress - if for very different reasons.

~-~

Edie couldn't decide whether the blindfold was a blessing or a curse. She'd counted at least thirty different revelers in attendance before Lady Calliope had called for the start of the 'presentations'. The scarlet-bottomed sissy-sub didn't know how many other submissives were being 'presented', but from the sound of milling people near her dias, those other subs were probably feeling pretty darned lonely just then.

A new pair of hands suddenly hauled down her pantelets, baring her from the waist down. "Oh, look!" a feminine voice crowed, as something hard and pointed - fingernails? - glided down his buttocks, "Goose pimples! How cute!"

Edie wanted to fold into herself and dissolve, but the stocks holding her head and hands gave her no slack.

"Nice CBT-harness," a masculine voice laughed. "Slut-puppy, see what you can do to make that hard."

"Yes, Master," a giggly-girl voice cooed.

No, Edie's mind yelled, they can't mean to. . .

Something slick and soft tickled the inside of Edie's thighs. The unrelenting grip of the foot-stocks made her attempts to close them futile. The feathery caresses moved, teasing at any scrap of skin Veronica's harness left exposed. A whisper of air, somehow both warm and cool, increased the sweet torment, and Edie's restrained masculinity attempted to reassert itself.

"Mmmmmmm," she groaned, when the leather rings grew suddenly tight.

"Yum," the giggler said. "Can that come out and play, Master? It looks. . . well, kinda tasty, Sir."

"I don't see why . . " the voice broke off suddenly but then spoke again. ". . . it should, slut-puppy. Let's see how. . . hard you can make things for the sissy, instead."

"Such a sweet, sexy little ass," another voice said suddenly as hands began stroking Edie's buttocks. The voice was rough, husky, and could have been male or female. "Anyone got any lube?"

Edie's body went rigid at that. She was caught. Veronica had warned her that timing was critical. If the safeword were given and no one could find Veronica quickly, it would raise questions. . and yet - this was the 'big terror' - the fear that still came to him in nightmares of Ed's time with La Marquesa.

"Ooonnn second thought," the voice husked, "I think this bottom needs some color, first. Get me a paddle, anybody."

"Here," the husky voice of Lady Calliope said, "Try this one."

The thought of being 'merely paddled', relaxed Edie - so much so that she took the first stroke on unprepared, thoroughly relaxed buns.

"Oh, GUMdrops," she squealed - loudly!

And found herself cheered for it.

~-~

Getting into Calliope's office had been even easier than Veronica had anticipated. The availability of fresh sissy flesh to torment had proven, as planned, totally irresistible to the throng of players, dominant and submissive alike. The other two presentation stations had gone unused, and still, the rest of the house had remained deserted.

"Thank goodness she keeps good records," Veronica mumbled as she quickly found the time frame before Ed's kidnaping. Calliope had indeed referred an Edward Davis to La Marquesa as a prospect - nearly two months before the abduction. The fee had been electronically transferred into Calliope's business account from a bank in the Cayman Islands one month later, which, in turn, had been subsequently transferred into Mary's accounts, minus Cal's commission. Veronica quickly copied down the information from the transfer documents onto a small spiral notepad, replaced the records in their file cabinet, and slipped back out of the office.

It was too bad, she reflected, just a bit sadly. This scheme wouldn't have worked if such matters could be safely negotiated in a more straightforward and open, perhaps even face-to-face, manner. Unfortunately, the loss of personal anonymity by the players involved could cost them greatly were their kinky tastes to become known in their vanilla communities.

Why, just tonight, there were two city councilmen, a high police official, a kindergarten teacher, and a television talk show hostess in attendance at Cal's party.

Not to mention advertising executive designate Veronica Johnson, she reminded herself. Still, after this mess was cleared up, they'd have to talk to Calliope, and find a better, or perhaps more correctly, a safer way. This couldn't be allowed to happen to another innocent. After all, Calliope was the Grand Domme of the Delta of Venus, and she'd be horrified when she finally learned what had befallen an innocent submissive with her unwitting assistance.

~-~

Veronica checked the mantel clock and saw she'd been gone the entire half hour she'd promised Calliope, although it had not felt that long. Well, the positive side of that meant tradition was satisfied and she could go reclaim. . . or was it, rescue Edie.

She walked into the Victorian mansion's ballroom and saw that a line had formed - players eagerly awaiting their turn to do. . .what?

-–ssSPLATttt!--

The unmistakable sound of leather paddle slapping human buttock answered that question, and was followed immediately by a shrill, indignant squeal. Fear sprouting in her guts, Veronica hurried in to get a better look at what was going on, and instantly relaxed. Calliope was standing beside Edie, a proprietary hand resting atop her sub's corsetted back, supervising the game. Edie would have a warm bottom, but not a bruised one.

Another swat was lustily delivered, and again, Edie squealed, doing her best to squirm and stamp her stock-bound feet - much to the delight of the gathered players. Veronica looked for signs of distress on her sub - lips gritted against the discomfort, muscles unduly rigid, tear tracks from beneath the silken blindfold - and found no such signs. *Why, the little minx is actually SMILING!* she realized suddenly. *Edie is playing to the crowd and ENJOYING it! And Calliope is supervising and petting her when she does well. Oh, my.*

A very pleased smile on her face, Veronica sauntered through the milling group and up to the dias where her Edie was restrained. "I see you're being well entertained, sweetie," she said loudly, announcing her presence to everyone, but most importantly, to Edie. "When everyone else has had their turn, I think I shall take mine, and. . . see to the . . .final touch-ups on this lovely canvas?"

Calliope laughed as she felt the muscles beneath her hand go rigid again, but not in fear this time. Ah yes, it was indeed, 'that way', the older woman thought happily.

"I think," she said, grandly, "That everyone has already had at least one turn, Veronica. . . even me. A wonderfully responsive bottom, dear. And it colors SO beautifully."

"Well, then, let's finish this work of art properly, eh?"

~-~

Edie, once again Ed, sat on the soft-cushioned chair, sipping the herbal tea Veronica had prepared upon their return to her apartment. He still wore the makeup, pantelets and stockings, although the ice-pick heels and the corset were long gone.

"Did you call Mary?"

"Yes, while you were in the bathroom," Veronica replied. "She'll see if her investigator can make anything of the data I got from Calliope's office. One good thing, though - I'm positive Cal is not part of this. Her looking out for you tonight reaffirmed my belief in her as a caring domme who'd never willingly participate in a. . . a travesty this foul."

Nodding, Ed shifted in his seat, easing the slight burn in his glutes. "I, ah, think she stopped some folks who might have tried some harder things. Twice that I recall, someone seemed to change their plans - almost in mid-sentence."

"Likely she did," Veronica agreed. "Are you okay with what went down tonight?"

"I'm okay now, but, at first? It was pretty scary," he admitted. "The blindfold made it scarier. . .more intense, somehow. Made me feel more vulnerable - which is strange because I couldn't have protected myself if I had been able to see. I almost lost it when someone asked for lube."

"Calliope told me about that - she was worried you might have had a bad reaction to that play. It was that bitch in green," Veronica snarled. "She knew what the white scarf meant and was trying to get away with pretending otherwise. I am going to have to impress a few hard truths to her next time we meet."

"Lady Calliope seemed to affix special significance to that scarf - more than you indicated when you put it on me."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Ed mused. "You said it meant 'newbie-to-be-treated-gently', but the way she asked if it really meant what it was supposed to mean. Somehow, she made it sound, well, really important."

Veronica tried to avoid his telling look, but it was hopeless. Ed might be submissive, but he was also stubborn. Not all that unusual a character combination, really, but combined with his talent for observation, an unfortunate one at this moment in time. Still, she wouldn't lie to him. "It is damned important - to me, anyway. The white scarf can mean many things - one of which is the meaning I told you earlier - but between two Sisters, the white scarf has a very special meaning. It means 'virginal and claimed'. Kind of like a bridal veil."

Ed looked up sharply, his eyes wide. "I'm not a virgin," he refuted, "Not in the normal context, and after my trip to Mary's island, not in the D/s sense, either."

"As far as I'm concerned, Ed, you have little or no experience with dominance and submission because there was no real caring in what you went through. My definition of D/s includes love, or at least, real affection. So, I named you virgin for tonight. . .and I claimed you as mine."

Ed saw her chin go up in challenge, as if waiting for him to deny her. Instead, he smiled. "Well, I guess I don't mind the first bit, as long as you're sure about the second."

"Oh," she assured him, her voice suddenly husky with emotion, "I'm sure - I'm VERY sure. Now, finish your tea, darling. I've decided you're spending the night here with me, and it's time for bed."

"Oh? You've decided?"

"Yes," she said, a pleased, feminine smile on her lips. "I have. Any problems with that, Davis?"

His smile matched hers. "None at all. Do I get to demonstrate the other uses of my 'sweet tongue'?"

"An excellent plan. Among other things, so hurry up!"

"Yes, Mistress."

 

 

 

*********************************************
© 2002 by Tigger. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.