Chapter 16: Signing Off

Interlude: 25^th Anniversary

Cindy:

There was a brief pause before the storm hit. So many things conspired to create that weekend, but there was a lull before they came together. For one night and the next morning, there was relative peace.

Of course, in the evening the excrement encountered the rotary ventilator.

Siobhan:

We caught up with Sheila at her studio. Sheila was in the wardrobe, plainly trying to choose an outfit. Francine was looking at the inventory with unconcealed envy. Of course, nothing would remotely fit her. With a start, I realized that Francine had to shop in the Girl's department.

Sheila told Francine to pick an outfit to have made. It was a perfect metaphor for the whole day. This excursion was supposed to be about Sheila and her wedding. Instead, she and Francine had shown me a new me. Francine had taken her to a restaurant and a bondage club. In both places, the star of the event was Sheila's submissive. Now, in her own domain, Sheila was offering us gifts. It was perfect. We all teared up.

Sheila did choose an outfit. She made sure that Christine had the keys, then went home to Sean. There was a bit of an awkward moment when I asked Francine where she was staying. I had not realized that she kept an apartment. Then I noticed Christine grinning. What? She mimed a keyboard. Doh!

Naturally Christine knew the facilities. We went to an office and she started a computer, then opened Hotmail. Francine had a smartphone, but my tablet was in the car. Before I could say anything, Christine gave up her seat and pulled out a laptop. How typically helpful. Shortly we had all exchanged addresses and were chatting in silence. Christine may be quiet as a mouse, but her texting was better than some of my grad students.

We had been going for about ten minutes when Christine mentioned a reporter at the restaurant. I felt as if I had been doused in ice water. I immediately did a news search on "Sheila Schwartz". Sure enough, there were hits. Biting my lip, I tried "Mistress Cynthia". More hits. By this time Christine and Francine had taken notice. We all took a deep breath when "Sheila Schwartz" + "Mistress Cynthia" turned up empty, but that did not figure to last. Francine summed it up, "Well shit. The rest of the week just got fucked."

That broke up our texting session, so it was time to think about getting home. Still, it seemed a shame to be here and not use the facilities. So I asked, "Were you serious about doing it ballerina style?" For once Motormouth Martel was at a loss for words, but I bet her panties just got wet.

I grinned my best shark in the minnow pool grin. "We have time for a quickie." Francine stopped and considered. She bit her lip and looked at me closely. It was more thought than my flip comment was worth. Finally, Francine shook her head. "Not tonight. For the first time I want to take my time. For a quickie, let's see what Suction Lips has learned this week." Christine was already kneeling on the floor.

Francine did not exactly do a strip tease, but there was something very sensual about the way she disrobed. The panties came first, then the skirt. She could have left the top on, but chose to look me straight in the eye while she did the buttons. This was all about challenge for when it was the two of us, but there was something else.

As usual my mouth ran away with me. "You want a baby, too."

Francine:

I hate being upstaged. As short as I am, I need to be in front. It makes for a forceful personality. Yet, the quietest person I have met in years upstaged me three times in one day. Once in the morning at the diner, once in my own restaurant and shortly after in my club. Then, we all put her in the car with Sheila, so she could freaking kneel at her Mistress' feet all the way home. Why was I not totally pissed?

It was just one question rattling around in my head as we left Brooklyn, heading west. If it was in my head, it probably came out, because I was talking 90 miles an hour. That was a clue. I talk when I am scared or nervous. What CC and Sheila had done scared me spitless.

I know that most people say shitless, but that is only because they do not understand the general concept. Fear makes your mouth dry. If you can spit, the fear is not consuming you. There was no way I could spit. Blessed Baby Jesus that was close. As I rode down the street, the only thing I could see were those angry red stripes on Christine's ass—with the sure knowledge that there were more stripes that did not show.

We did not go far. Just a couple of miles into Staten Island, we stopped for ice cream. I left the others to bury my nerves in food. There is nothing like a couple of double meat quarter pound burgers, large fries and a strawberry shake to settle me down. It also gave Sheila a chance to get over her reaction.

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.