[ K ] [ T ] and Family
Chapter 21: Circus Circus

Copyright© 2014 to PocketRocket

Drama Sex Story: Chapter 21: Circus Circus - This is formally the third book of a trilogy. The first two parts are: "[K]itten and [T]eddybear" then "[K]&[T], LLC". Be assured, this is a complete work, not one in progress. The universe of the story is another matter. Many more stories are possible.

Caution: This Drama Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Light Bond   Anal Sex   Petting   Sex Toys  

Interlude: 25th Anniversary

Cindy:

Mom managed to get a brief look at the Fair, but she needed to get her hair and makeup done. She refers to it as wardrobe, which it was. Aunt Francine supplied Broadway level talent for the event. Dad says she billed it at ten bucks an hour, so we will never know what it cost. The actual dressing room was Aunt Jo's childhood bedroom, on the second floor. That's where the window scene occurred.

Siobhan:

Sean discovered Christine and Sheila gave her a place. I always wished I had been there first, because Christine fit me like a glove. I told her to get things prepared for giving Francine a little comeuppance. She went to my room, rearranged the furniture and returned. I managed to forget the whole affair until Elspeth returned with Maria. Elspeth and payback are linked in my mind.

She had done a good job with Maria. Elspeth chose a long plaid skirt, a high collar blouse, Mary Jane shoes and a cameo choker. Heaven only knows where she found that. I could not help but notice their earlier antipathy was gone, as if they had found common ground. This was good. Maria gave Elspeth a willing assistant, which was important. Christine and I needed to suit up.

I was dreading this part. Makeup and I had a long, adversarial relationship. To make matters worse, my artist was Jerome, the one who had "helped" me on Tuesday. When he told me he requested the job, I felt worse. Jerome was unsympathetic. His exact words, "You are an impressive woman. Now shut up and play your part." Christine covered her mouth.

Taking off the work clothes was easy enough. Jerome put them on hangers and hung them on a rack. Once half naked, I had to sit and let Jerome work conditioner into my hair, brush it out and tie it with the silk bow. So far, so good, said the jumper passing the 20th floor. The face makeup was minimal—eye liner and lip gloss. The underwear was not. It took both of them to pull my corset tight.

My first reaction was panic, but Dr. Richards took over. Christine had a surprise. Instead of socks, she had rolled silk stockings, with garters. Jerome said nothing, but he was clearly in on the joke. When I bit off my reaction, I saw a trace of approval in their expressions. As I put on the trousers, the boots, the pleated shirt, the waistcoat, the jacket, I felt increasingly that I had passed a test of some sort.

There was more—cufflinks, handkerchief, gloves, top hat, walking stick. Once Jerome tied the neck bow, I thought I was finished, but Christine pulled out a jewelry box. I recognized it immediately. It contained a pair of ruby ear studs that once belonged to great grandmother Sparks. They had to have been in a safety deposit box, so Sean had sent them. As I teared up, Christine kissed my cheek. Then I cried. I was such a girl.

Christine's dress was simple in comparison. She casually shed her skirt and shirt, followed by the plain cotton (disposable?) bra and panties. Jerome pinked as she checked her pubis for stubble. Sheila told me Christine was an exhibitionist, but I had no idea it was this bad. Jerome's wood became apparent as Christine went around the room, pretending to look for something. While I enjoyed the show, it moved me less than I would have expected. Odd.

What the hell. I might as well do something with the scene, since I was in it. I snapped my fingers. Christine's head came up with a jerk. I beckoned and she scurried over. I had her bend over and gave her two swats on her badly bruised fanny. Not a word was spoken, but Christine went straight to a bag and pulled out a silk bra and panties. While she did so, I picked up her disposable panties and sniffed—damp and fresh. Christine had put them on, just to take them off.

That meant, "Jerome, Christine wants you to have these. Display them in good health." Jerome's face, and other parts, were a portrait of conflict. He was wide eyed and red faced, but his nostrils were flaring and his equipment had taken notice. This, of course, that was the point of the whole exercise. Christine was quite good at layered subtlety. Though she is never mean or cruel, Christine was capable of poking holes in an inflated ego or shining a light on an internal conflict. Jerome took the damp panties like a dangerous snake, but he took them.

Once that was done, Christine was still displaying a very classy bra and matching panties, sandwiching her corset. When I asked if she had a hot date, she winked, then turned so I could pull on the corset strings. With anyone else, I would have more questions, but in this case everything was crystal. It was not as if Jason needed help getting lucky. The way I was hearing things, Jason needed to guard his bedroom with attack dogs. Yet, Christine had bridesmaid's sex scheduled in advance.

On that odd note we went upstairs to the bride's parlor, i.e. my bedroom. How had this large a house gotten so crowded? Naturally, you could hear Francine from down the hall. I did not really need another excuse to get physical with Francine, but this tirade made the timing easy. I entered the room to, "It's about fucking time you two got here. We need to ... What ... Stop ... Put me the fuck down!"

If Francine's people had choreographed it, Christine and I could not have worked more smoothly together. I strode into the room, noted the open windows, picked Francine up and carried her to the closest. Christine walked to my desk, picked up a camera and walked to the other window. I shoved Francine's head out the window and dangled her from bent knees. Christine took half a minute of video before Sheila called a halt. As I set Francine back on her feet, Sheila asked Christine if Gerald had been recording. Check.

It takes a lot to get Francine Martel speechless, but we managed. Once she stopped sputtering, she looked at the three of us, waiting expectantly. Three times she opened her mouth, but each time she closed it. Finally, she looked down and kicked the floor. Christine and Sheila were hugging her before I could move, so I explained.

"Francine, you will recall an order you sent, requesting Saturday delivery. It arrived on schedule. The staff treated it as a possible bomb. It was opened by security, in full digital color. Sean was a bit torqued. He asked me to represent the family. The camera was Christine's idea."

To Sheila I asked, "Does that cover things for you? We could do it with her skirt dangling. I must admit to wondering if she is wearing anything under it." Francine broke off whatever retort she was planning to stare at me open mouthed. It was a lesson that served me well in politics—always show them how things could be worse. Christine smiled broadly, but Sheila merely dimpled.

Instead of answering me, Sheila dropped to a knee and pulled Francine into a real hug. Christine picked up the camera and taped that. Sheila said, "I have been trying for fifteen minutes to thank you for the earrings." Christine may be good at layered subtlety, but Sheila is the standard.

Francine:

I hate being irrational. It irritates me, but never forces me to stop. I was being irrational about everything the night before. My party had been a big success, but I was just the host. It had been Sheila's party, with a strong assist from Siobhan. After we dropped Sheila off, we went out and picked up a young playmate. Maria was as fresh and innocent as anyone could ask, but she wasn't my playmate. With my half assed assistance, Siobhan had done a cute little scene.

That was part of the problem. I was not in the mood for cute. I wanted red welts and sobbing, to go with the orgasms. It did not help my mood that I handed Siobhan the reins. Granted, I was half hoping she would fail, but only half. I have always been a sink or swim kind of teacher. I did not expect Siobhan to swim so well, or Christine to back her up so fully. I felt proprietary about Christine. Instead, she proved me outclassed in carpet munching. I could see how well Maria had responded to their low key attention, which just proved me wrong on a different level.

All that frustration and outrage kept me up half the night. When I finally slept, I slept too well. Siobhan was up first. I'm always up first. I've made millions of dollars by being up before anyone else. I woke cranky and that threw fuel on the fire. It kept getting worse. Siobhan showered first, then took Christine and Maria to a different room, so I could have more time. It also meant I would not interact with them, avoiding any possible sparks. When we reached the Waffle House, my breakfast already waiting. I was able to eat without rushing and still finish first. It was a nice gesture, but it just pissed me off more.

I could tell |Siobhan and I were headed for trouble, so I did the sensible thing and called for a ride. Siobhan's two seater was seriously crowded with four. Waiting for Roxie and the drive to the house gave me a chance to focus on what I needed to do. Feelings come and go, but work has to be done or the show doesn't go on. No one ever accused me of slacking. There was a shitload of things to be done before I went to costume.

Roxie was no longer my employee, so I had to be careful. Still, she was a bit scared of the situation, so directions were welcome. I showed her the prop and wardrobe rooms, then sent her out to funnel people my direction. While I waited for my people, there were a million things to check. No matter how well you pack, something always gets lost, broken or dumped. Sorting things out gave me something to keep my mind off my mood.

Fortunately, I hired good people. Shortly I was checking details with my master of props and mistress of wardrobe. I left them to their roles and went to walk the venue. That was when the pot started to boil over. Siobhan's people were occupying the stage. In retrospect, I expected it to be like a Renaissance Faire. Wrong. Ren Faire vendors are experienced and have a set space. Siobhan's people were the grounds staff, a lot of temp help and the Amish. They went everywhere and were into everything. I found a couple of the grounds crew discussing what to do with my quick change tent.

I may have said some unkind things, but it was justified and nothing to be embarrassed about. Unfortunately, Siobhan did not see it that way. In retrospect, she had been treating me carefully all morning, so I deduce she was aware of my surly mood. That did not stop her from making her feelings known, in an icy fashion. For someone unused to Polite Society, Siobhan had surprising command of venomously correct language. I responded in kind, since we had a crowd of onlookers. It was like being in a high school hallway, with a chant of "Fight. Fight. Fight." in the background.

I am a professional and Siobhan was doing a damn good impression of one, so the situation did not escalate. Instead we both promised to keep a rein on our respective minions. That done, she declared my changing tent off limits. For my part, I instructed everyone to steer clear of their resupply routes. Things moved on, but I did not think I had heard the last of it.

One nice sidelight was getting Roxie acquainted with the Richards in general. Watching Siobhan having to restrain her temper was educational for Roxie. Her former bosses, in California, would have lit a bonfire and loved the attention. Fallout would never have entered their thoughts. If I had been paying attention, I would have noted that I hired those assholes, but I can be dense.

In any event, we settled into a routine, which Roxie understood. She knew who needed to be where and when. After an unreasonably short time, I had to turn things over to her, since I had wardrobe call. That went smoothly enough, til Sheila and I were talking in the ready room. Siobhan entered and, never saying a word, picked me up and dangled me out an open window. Sheila made no protest. Even worse, Christine filmed the entire sequence.

I was so mad I sputtered to a stop, which was my undoing.

Sheila:

For the first time I could remember, I regretted not owning blue jeans. The fair was everything I always loved in a party, but rarely saw. This is not to say I had wide experience at parties. I had been to a few birthdays as a child and recitals almost always have one, though they are geared to the parents. The fair was geared to children. Heaven knows how many kids would be grass stained before the wedding, but it was worth it. Sean led me to the merry-go-round and we took our inaugural ride on horses. We switched to a swan seat and did another turn. Have I mentioned Sean is a good kisser?

After the carousal, Sean led me to the badminton court. I had never played the game, but it seemed simple enough. We played five points before Sean cried uncle. I was disappointed, but it was not a good idea to have him sweaty. At croquet he only lasted one wicket. I suggested we try some booths. In my experience, it is best to call truce before a male ego was too bruised.

 
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