0 comments/ 10596 views/ 1 favorites Becoming V By: SheerSilver *This is the next segment to Secret Voyeur. If you have not read that one you may not fully understand this story.* I groaned out loud and rubbed my temples. I had the worst headache, I felt like my head was going to split open and burst into flame. A deep clanging sound was ringing in my ears. Damn I was sore, everywhere! I really need to use my hot tub more than I do. I went to roll over and snuggle into one of my many pillows and something cold and slick slid across my face. I opened my eyes and saw chain on my face. I tried to jerk myself up to a sitting position, but I did not have enough leeway too do so. I was chained to the wall and laying on a straw pallet. What in the fuck is going on? I screamed out at the top of my lungs. It was real; I did not dream it all up? Am I dead and a torturing Hades has chain instead of dead souls? Was I raped by the musty man? Oh gods is he still in the room. I began to panic and frantically looked about the room that seriously looked like a torture chamber or dungeon you would find back in the medieval days long ago. The room was not lit with an overhead light, there were candles lit and spread all around the room. It was hard to see but I knew I was still there, chained, afraid, and laying on straw like a fucking goat. Baaaaah! I plopped back down in anger, I was frightened and deeply frustrated. Turns out that was not a smart thing to do, not only did it make my headache worse, but the straw was lying on pure cement. It certainly isn't like plopping down on my nice soft bed of pillows. The straw seemed damp. I leaned my head down to smell it, it smelt like sweat. Come to think of it my body felt clammy. I must have sweated a lot in the time I was passed out. Ewww oh my gods! I remembered how I peed all over myself. I should have felt ashamed, but I didn't. I hope the fucker had to get down on his hands and knees to clean it up! Ha ha ha, now that is a funny thought. Again my mind drifted back to things that happened. Why couldn't I be chained down to the picnic table in Aria and Eros' back yard? I severely wished I was right about now. All the sensations he would force upon me, all of the emotions. Gods! I felt more emotions in less than a day than I have in years combined. I raised my head to look down at my body, looking for the marks they left on me. The marks were faint, but I could still see them. I smiled to myself. The musty fucker can do what he wants but Eros tortured me first! I began to laugh like a mad woman. Why can't I get him out of my head? It is like he possessed my mind and body! No matter what, I think of him. Gods and Aria too! I can still taste her days later, I craved to taste her again. Never did I ever fathom I would be attracted to a woman let alone have sex with one! But I did, and I loved every moment of it too. The insane laughter broke though my lips again, and my head pounded even harder. Why does my head hurt so damned bad? Yep, it is official. I have truly, completely, utterly lost my mind. I must have to be laughing at a time like this. I should be crying, freaking out, screaming at the top of my lungs for help, although I have a feeling no one would be able to hear me, and if they did it would probably be the musty man. Oh gods how terrible he smelt, it turned my stomach just thinking about it. I am surprised I did not puke at the smell he has. Gross! Smells.... I smell Eros! No it cannot be him. I am imagining things. I inhaled deeper. I could not be certain but under the mustiness, nastiness, and the stench of everything else I smelled him! I took in the deepest breath I ever did in my life and screamed out bloody murder, Eros!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I began to cry now. My mind is playing cruel tricks on me. I feel so lonely and helpless. Please let me go, please I will do anything I screamed out repeatedly until my lips were dry. Once again darkness crept over me, crept over me from feeling so weak, so tired, so hungry, and sore. My eyelids grew heavy and began to close. I almost drifted off to sleep when I could have sworn I heard Eros whisper in my ear Ah Cosi Bello V. I whispered out, please sir be here with me and take away all of this madness! I tried so hard to open my eyes to look for him. My heart pleaded with the gods to let him really be there, but I couldn't open them. They fell closed and fell hard. Again darkness over took me and I passed out cold. I awoke again, sore and drained as ever. I had no heavenly idea how long I had been there, what day it is, or what the time was. I was just there, held captive with no contact. Fear, hate, rage, anger, sorrow, longing, and loneliness filled my entire body. I wished for any contact, even from the musty man. My mind danced with teasing me yet again because now I smelled Eros all the more. It was as if he was right beside me. I went to turn over in the nasty straw on the cold cement floor, to adjust myself in another position to try and ease the ache in my back. Ah Mi Cheri, Mi V. I heard softly in my ear. I opened my eyes and tried my best to sit up and look around, but there was not enough length of chain to allow it, nor was there room. Oh gods I am in a fucking cage! Gods help me I cried out. Again I cried... I cried so loud and hard, I am sure someone heard me. I could hear my stomach growling even over the screams I let out. I was starving, I needed food! I would kill for a drop of water. I would fuck the musty man for a drop. Oh gods what did I just think? Please Mister, I am hungry and thirsty. Please feed me or at least give me some water! I hollered out. What do you want from me? I screamed at the top of my lungs. Arrr my head was spinning in pain again. I felt woozy. Darkness crept in again and over took me. Mmmm that feels so good I whispered when I awoke to my head being massaged. I nuzzled my head against the hand petting me. Oh gods someone is touching me! I jolted up, and surprisingly I was not bound by a cage or chains or anything! Then smack! I tried to stand up but I hit my head on something. What the fuck I mumbled. Looking around I was in a cage! It was larger than the one I was in previously but it did not have bars. It had a tiny plexy glass window on top and one on each of the four sides. Who are you? I whispered, hoping the musty man would not hear me and take me away. I had someone to talk too, someone else to share my situation. Is she sharing my situation or is she one of them. Chills raced down my spine not knowing who she is, how I got here, how many are out there? Oh gods help me! Hush now girl, she said to me. Girl? I wanted to smack her right then and there, but I didn't. I collapsed back down, it was much softer than the straw and cement floor and the last cage of metal. She crawled over to me, and held me as once again the sissy I am becoming cried in her warm arms. This girls name is Resa. Girls Master gave it to her upon giving her her collar, she said. She's even more insane than I am. She is talking in third person. Calgone take me away! After a few minutes I repeated her name silently in my head, Resa... Resa... it's Italian! Surrender, your name means surrender Resa. I whispered. She went on to tell me a bit about her name. Her birth name was Kathy, she is 32 years old, she met her Master at 28, he took her to Italy and it was there she surrendered herself to him, which is why it is her name and in Italian, so she never forgets how she came to be his. It's really romantic if you think about it. Listen to me, no don't listen to me because I am insane and should be in a straight jacket! Through my sobs I heard a noise and caught a wiff of food. Food! I am saved thank the gods above! I pushed her away from me looking for the food. There were two bowls on the other side of the cage and two bottles of water. I crawled so fast I surprised myself in doing so. It was a soup, it was bland but I welcomed it in my mouth. The soup had a thick broth, filled with vegetables and chicken. Damn it tasted so good, the blandness faded and the delish over powered me. I was hovering over my bowl like a wild animal starved for days. I had the soup all over my face, and since there was no spoon I was forced to eat it with my fingers. I licked each one I used clean and did not care that I was not lady like in eating either. Resa looked at me like I was a mad woman, and a mad woman I was becoming. I have lost touch with who I was or thought I was anyway. I do not understand what is happening to me. I was not as scared as I first was. If the musty smelling man was going to kill me I think he would have done it when I was so vulnerable, and not feed me to give me some strength back. Once I was done gobbling up my bowl of soup I noticed the top window was opened. I sat my bowl down and raised myself to the window to breathe in what fresh air it offered. After I took in a few breaths I smelled him again. I smelled Eros. I smelled the man I so longed for. Eros I am here, I am here I cried out with tears! Please come and get me, Eros! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ More time passed although I do not know how much did. Resa was still in the cage with me and it seemed as though a few days passed between us. I became to like her, my sister in captivity. We quietly talked about many things. She asked me why I was here and I did not know what she meant. She would not elaborate much further besides telling me all women who are brought here are brought for one reason or another. So I am not the only one the mad musty man has kidnapped and tortured! We were let out of the cage once a day to use the bathroom facilities' by the masked musty man then placed back into our caged home. The small break was nice, I was able to stretch my legs and my arms. I relished in each time I was let out. I even began to thank him each time he would let me out. I have really lost my mind, once I dropped to my knees and kissed his feet as I said thank you before I crawled back into my caged home. As the days went by we were fed the same, walked the same to the bathroom, and every other day we were bathed. There were two toilets and a shower in the corners of the room where our cage rested, the shower heads were at different angles and if I remember correctly there were six of them. We placed our hands on the showers tiled wall, rested our heads against it as well, and spread our legs wide. We were lashed if we moved before told. It became a routine with my showers and bathroom breaks. The masked musty man used a large scrubbing brush to wash us with, and used it harsh. At first my healing wounds felt like they reopened when he scrubbed me, it caused me to yelp out in pain. I never did that again after getting swatted with the scrubbing brush he held, it stung like Hades. But eventually the pain from my wounds subsided once healed and the harshness of his scrubbing didn't seem so bad in time. I fully admitted to myself and accepted the fact I was going crazy and the smells of Eros just a figment of my imagination, because I wanted him to be the one who kidnapped me, the one who was putting me through all of this madness. It would be so much easier if it were him instead of the musty smelling man who's face I have never seen, his voice I never heard, let alone I have never been touched by him other than being jerked up from my cage for my walk to the bathroom or shower. I longed to pet my cat Hera, to feel her whiskers tickle my nose to wake me up when she was hungry. She is probably stark mad right about now from hunger. And my house probably smells like a nasty litter box since I am not there to keep it clean. Oh Hera I miss you baby girl I whispered to myself. I awoke from the darkness hearing my named called out, V Mi Cheri, V wake. Mmmm I must have been dreaming of him again, I can still hear his voice ringing sweetly in my head. Slowly I sat up in my cage, not noticing that Resa had been taken away from me until a few seconds after I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. I teared up realizing the only contact I had was now gone. Where was she, who took her from me? Please where is Resa I screamed out! Resa come back! Aww Cosi Bello V I heard. Oh gods stop tormenting me with his voice I screamed out loud. I wish you were here and not just part of the craziness in my head Eros I sobbed. I have really lost my mind. I felt his gentle touch upon my head, and again I smelled him. Oh how sweet his smell was. I breathed in deeply to take it all in, to cherish the moment of the false smell my mind had given to me. I tired to turn around to curl back up in the corner of the cage I had claimed as my own. But I couldn't, I was held by the head of my hair. Oh gods someone has come for me! My heartbeat faster with fear, fear of not knowing who was there holding my hair so rough. But I wanted it so to be Eros. I smelled him, I felt him, there's a hand on my head. Oh gods could it really be him? My head was jerked back to look up to the small window above me. And I saw him. It wasn't the masked musty man that usually came to get me for this or that. My eyes were now too playing tricks on me, I saw him, and I saw Eros! I let out a laugh of madness. This isn't real I said out loud talking to whoever was holding me down in my cage. Stay there V Mi Cheri I heard. Still laughing insanely I stayed put as told. The top of the cage was lifted up and light filled in around me. I still was not use to the light when it flowed into the dark where I was kept. I blinked my eyes and waited for orders of the day. Sitting on my heels with my head pressed against the bottom of the cage, with my ass raised high in the air, just like Resa had taught me to do, I waited. No orders came, no lash of a whip, no cuffs, no blind folds, nothing came at me. I just rested there for what seemed like forever. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I held my eyes shut tightly expecting the worst since this was so unusual of the past happenings of the days, weeks? I lost count. No clue as to the day or time I was just here. I felt a gentle hand run down from my head, down my spine, to my ass where I was caressed. Like a cat I reared my ass up higher begging to be touched more. What was I doing? I had no idea who was touching me. I imagined it was Eros, I still could smell him and it felt like he was there with me, although I know it was just trickery of my mind. I did not care; I embraced the madness I caused myself. I imagined what it felt like to be under his touch, my mind is either more powerful than I thought or it really was him. I felt strong hands engulf my body as I was lifted out of the cage. My eyes still closed I nuzzled into the man who held me like a baby. I sighed deeply and not only did I smell him but I could taste his cologne in my mouth. Eros I whispered softly, Eros. I am here V Mi Cheri I heard. Lazily I opened my eyes and looked up at my captor and tried hard to get my eyes to focus on who was holding me so I would know for sure I am crazy and see someone else beside Eros. I looked up and saw him in all of his sexy glory. I saw who I longed for. I saw Eros. Master I cried out as my eyes filled with tears. Hush now my V, everything will be all right you will see, is all he said as he carried me off to another place. The man I imagined as Eros lay me down on what I thought to be a bed since it was so soft. I pressed myself down into the soft warmth of the bed and spread my arms out side to side. Ahh this felt so good I whispered as I stretched all of my body out releasing the tension in my legs, back, arms, and my mind. I kept my eyes closed so my fantasy could continue. I wiggled my body on the bed, feeling it against my sore body, and hoping to be touched. So Schoner Bonbon V I heard Eros whisper in my ear as he slid on top of my naked flesh. I could feel his leather pants stick to my legs as he pressed himself against me. I wrapped my arms around him pulling him closer so I could kiss him. How I longed to kiss him again. I shouldn't have but I did, I opened my eyes while I was so caught up in my fantasy to look at him. Who I looked at smelled like Eros, touched me like Eros, but was not Eros. It was not the musty smelling man, his figure did not match his nor did he smell like the musty man, he smelled like Eros. Eros I cried out, Eros! But he did not come; it was only me and this man I knew not who he was. He kissed on my neck, oh gods it felt good. I heard him whisper oh so lovely in my ear... V that is what Eros called me. My mind drifted back to him, and to him is where I stayed as this stranger ravished my body with his mouth. My body reacted, not for him but for Eros. I cried out with pleasure at his touch all the while calling out Eros' name. No thoughts invaded my mind; no silly little quirks came from my mouth, just feeling. It felt so good to be out of my cage lying on a bed, and his touch was almost as heavenly as that of Eros. His hands slid up my arms to my wrist and held them in place. One by one he placed into a leather cuff and chained me down to the bed. Please no, don't I cried out. I was allowed my sobs and out cries because he did not gag me, he did however blindfold me so I could not see what would come next. I felt him get off of the bed and heard his footsteps leave the room. Tears began to slide down my face from my covered eyes. Please let me go I whispered. Please! My pleading to be let go turned into pleading with the silence of the room to bring Eros to me. Eros danced across my lips over and over until finally the darkness of sleep crept on me and over took my body. I slept in my bonds on the stranger's bed. Purring, soft music to my ears, tickling on my nose, Hera I said. Smiling softly I brushed my nose against her soft fur. I rolled over onto my side and wrapped my arm around my fat, fluffy, Persian cat Hera. Mmm I stretched my body beneath my covers and whispered soft coos to Hera. Pillows were stuck between my legs and all around me as usual when I wake up. Ah my bed felt so good. Wait! I am in my bed. Can it be I am at home? What in the name of Zeus is going on? How did I get here? Did I ever leave? Was it all just a dream? I had so many questions and no answers. I was in my nightie I slept in last, my robe was on the foot post of my bed, my cat was purring in my ear and my body was not sore. Everything is as it should be. It had to be just a dream, things like that do not really happen. It was dark outside, looked to be around midnight or a little after. I must have fallen asleep and dreamed it all I tried to convince myself. Hera acted like she was hungry so I called her to follow as I made my way into my soft silky robe. We walked in harmony as always down the stairs, never once has she tripped me, she was the perfect cat. I loved her so much. It felt like forever since I saw her but that was madness because she was right there with me, everything was normal. Normal? Why did I feel so empty? That dream must have really taken a toll on me to feel so real. My mind twisted with thoughts as I fed Hera. My dream scared me, but excited me still. It was just a dream, I need to forget about it and go on with my life. I made myself a cup of mint tea and tried to relax some. Carrying my tea to the kitchen table I saw my nice, hot, inviting, hot tub on the back deck. There were no lights on in any of the homes around me, it was pitch black, and everything is as it should be. But it wasn't, I wasn't the same. How could a dream make me feel like this? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I let my soft silky robe fall from my shoulders onto the wooden floor of my deck. I sat on the edge of my hot tub and ran my fingers in the water to test its heat. It was perfect! I slid my legs over the side and let them glide into the steaming bubbling water and then I slinked in like a cat would slink down off of a chair to stretch. Becoming V I was relaxing and getting my mind clear of all the left over thoughts from my recent dream, minding my own business sipping my mint tea. Mmmm I was so relaxed, my hot tub felt so good. I heard a faint sound, it sounded like a woman crying. I looked around me, nothing but darkness. I passed it off as my imagination getting the best of me. I heard her cry again. Chills ran down my spine and I sat up in my hot tub frantically looking to see where she was. My glance glazed over my breast and I gasped. On each of my breasts was an upside down V so that when I looked down I could clearly see a V on each of them. I thought I was going to die because for sure my heart stopped beating right then and there the moment I saw the V's on me. V... V is for voyeur, and how well it fits you Eros once told me. Oh my gods! He is real, it did happen, I did not dream it all up! Then I saw her as she cried out again. I saw Aria pressed against the small shed in their back yard with Eros behind her pulling her hair back and fondling her all over. I moved to the other side of my hot tub to watch closer and as I did my loins tingled. More cries and more tingles and here I am spying on them again. I secretly watched for about ten minutes or so before I could not stand it any longer. I stood up in my hot tub and stepped out, knocking over my tea in the process. I strutted through my back yard naked as I could be over to the fence between us. I knew there was a break in the middle and found it. I ripped the broken wood off and it was just enough room for me to slip though to the other side. Once both of my feet were on his ground it was all I could do not to run to them both. He saw me and stopped playing with Aria. Aria lifted her head up from being pressed against the shed to see why he stopped. She saw me to and smiled at me but never moved another part of her body. She stayed there as Eros began to walk towards me. I could not see his face clearly. Gods what am I doing? He will think me mad, a crazy woman who lives next door, breaking the fence and trespassing on his land naked no less! My heart sank into the bottom pits of my stomach as we both closed in on each other walking. What seemed like forever to reach him actually only took a few seconds. When he reached me I lost my breath and my knees. My body went limp and I sank to the ground. I was sitting on my heels as I had been trained with my head lowered to the ground. He spoke but not to me, he only said two words, Aria come, nothing more. Quickly she ran over to his side and knelt in the same fashion and answered Eros with simply, yes Master. He placed a hand on each of our heads and slid our heads up slightly so we could look upon his gorgeous face. I could not help but to smile. I know this is no fantasy, no illusion, or a dream. I was really here at his feet with my sister in love of Eros. I felt at ease, safe, I was happy, and for the first time I felt I was in my place. Softly with authority he spoke again, V has returned to us Aria, should we keep her he said. She turned her head to me with a smile. Eros released his grip on our heads and she crawled over to me. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed me with more passion than I thought could be held between two women. I returned her kiss and as if I have not done so enough in the past however many days, tears spilled from my eyes again as I embraced Aria. I felt his hand upon my head again as he gently pushed us away from each other. His body lowered to the ground with us and he began to kiss me. Aria was caressing his back and pulled his pants off. His tongue was searching my mouth as his hands were searching Aria's body. I couldn't help but to moan out to him. He used the weight of his body to push me onto my back. I lay there under his kisses on the damp cold grass. Aria began to kiss me as he deeply took my body as his, he repeated over and over as he thrust inside of me, mine V you belong to me. Between Aria's lusting kisses I simply replied to Eros, yours always Master. This time we did not have raw sex but the three of us made love under the moons light, in the cold and damp grass of their backyard. I was happy, I was whole, I was a slave to love, I was his, I belonged to my Master, Eros. Becoming Vargas' Girl Sophie Anne's house sat alone at the top of a small hill on Shore Road, overlooking the Narrows River. The house had once been a convent, Sophie Anne loved to tell people that...and it was a huge monstrosity with rooms and rooms. Her father, a Greek restaurateur (and by restaurateur, I mean money launderer for a crime family) had bought the place from the diocese, and at one time he used the place as a counting house. But Sophie Anne's father, along with many of his, ummmm, business associates, had gotten caught and were now guests at Club Fed. Sophie Anne's mother had gone back to Greece, leaving Sophie Anne to fend for herself. And that house. But how do I even know Sophie Anne in the first place? From high school, of all places. The daughter of the money launderer and the incest survivor, the two little girls with big secrets, we became fast friends. And remained friends through all the years. I won't say either or us inspired the other's choice to get into BDSM. And we're very different. She's a Mistress with a pet play fetish. Her submissive, Rex, plays as a puppy. I'm a sub with Little tendencies, currently single...well, single for awhile now, since having given Angelo back his collar. Anyway, after losing a lot of weight, getting sober, and finally starting to work on resolving my issues, I realized I hadn't played in what felt like forever. So when my dear friend from high school invited me to a play party at her house on the hill, I said something I hadn't said in awhile...YES. If she was surprised to hear me say I want to get back into the swing of things, she didn't show it. The unflappable Sophie Anne, ladies and gentlemen. Most people don't have play parties at home, but she ain't most people. You'd think with her father in federal prison she'd be low on funds, but no, she somehow managed to stay richer than Croesus. I didn't question that, I was just lucky to have her for a generous hostess. Of course I asked about the dress code before showing up. I was told to look good, and that if I meant to play (as opposed to just watch) I should be prepared to be nude (and by that she was reminding me to shave what needed shaving). So I showed up wearing a blue dress...it wasn't from The GAP, but I've been told more than once I look like Monica Lewinsky, so I decided to go with it. Those of us who remember the '90s and have a sense of humor get it. The door opened before I had a chance to ring the bell, and I came face to face with a black gentleman of slim build. "My name is Vargas, Miss Sergio," he said, in a voice that was deep and cultured, "I'll be your Dungeon Master for this evening." "Good evening, Vargas," I said, "and it's Cara. The things I'm going to do here, it's best we be informal." At that, he smiled. "Now," I said, "conduct me to my dear friend Sophie Anne, if you please." Vargas took my arm and led me to Sophie Anne, who sat in the middle of the living room on a sofa, receiving her guests. She wore a riding outfit that fitted her like a second skin. Rex was on all fours at her feet. "Sophie Anne," I greeted her, "god it's been forever." "Cara Mia," she sprung up to hug me, "but this dress, shouldn't there be a stain on the front?" "Please, I only just got here, give me time. And you, what's with the riding gear, you trading Rex in for a goddamn horse, Lady Godiva?" At that, Rex let out a growl and Sophie Anne assured us both there was no trade planned. "OK," she said next, "now we have that settled. Cara, you know Vargas will be your Dungeon Master for tonight." "Yeah Vargas is the DM," I said, "I get that-" "No," she said, Vargas is your Dungeon Master. So if anybody-" "Whoa," I interrupted, "does every party guest get his own Vargas?" "Look," she pulled me aside, Rex trailing after her, "I just thought after Angelo and a long time away from this, I just thought..." "It's probably a good idea," I conceded, "so are there any good looking people here?" "I flew them in special," she laughed. "People," she announced to the guests assembled, "what's say we move out into the terrace for appetizers." Everybody started milling towards the patio. Vargas took my arm and started to lead me. "I know where the patio is," I said, "been in and out of this house for twenty years." At that, he let go and backed off with a sour expression on his face. On the patio, I could see that not everyone present was into pet play. I mingled with a few people over shrimp cocktail, listening to one couple say they were looking for a third to join them. That not being my thing, and the man looking me up and down, I backed away, only to bump into Vargas. "Damn it, Vargas," I muttered, "get off my ass." "I was coming to get you," he said, "I thought-" "If I want you, I will speak your name, all right," I said, trying my best to sound commanding. At that, I saw him turn and head back inside. Probably going to tell Sophie Anne I'd dismissed him improperly. Frustrated and annoyed, I lit a cigarette out there on the patio. Most of the guests started moving back inside, probably to commandeer the various upstairs rooms and play. I stayed outside to smoke. I'd join them when I collected my brains. "Am I late to the party," a familiar voice behind me said, "I wasn't invited and I didn't ring the bell, but I'm here." NO FUCKING WAY, I thought, it cannot be. But I turned around and standing there was Angelo. "What...how..." I was really too surprised to say anything. "I went to Dave and Michelle's last night," he said, leaning on what appeared to be his infamous rattan cane, "ran into Doreen. She said you were supposed to be there, but you flaked out at the last minute." "Goddamn Doreen," I said, picturing Doreen Gambino and wanting to punch her. "She's a wealth of information," he continued, "says you've lost weight and you stopped going to play parties. But I knew you'd turn up here. You and Sophie Anne are practically lesbians." I looked around for Vargas, who was nowhere. I'd pissed him off good. "Dave and Michelle even said you've changed too. But I know better. Oh you may have lost a few pounds," he took a step closer, " but people like you don't change." "Well it was great seeing you, Angelo," I said, trying to pretend I wasn't terrified, "but I've got to rejoin the party." I put out my cigarette and started for the door back into the house. But I didn't move fast enough. Angelo's hand shot out to grab me around the throat. I tried to scream as his fingers closed in. "People like you don't change," he repeated, dragging me to the far end of the patio. Utterly terrified and not even pretending not to be anymore, I pissed myself as he dragged me all the way to the end of the patio and shoved me down in Sophie Anne's chaise lounge. "Vargas!" I screamed the minute he removed his hand from around my neck. "Vargas," Angelo growled, as no one came out of the house, "what, you replaced me with some Puerto Rican?" "What is it you want," I said, "I've let you alone since I gave the collar back. Return the favor." "You've let me alone. You gave the collar back. That's just it. You don't get to do those things...you don't get to say when. I say when." "VARGAS!!" I screamed again. "Sophie Anne! Rex! Anybody!" "Let Vargas come," he said, "I bet he doesn't know he's been squatting on my property. If he's a man, he'll apologize and desist immediately." Angelo thought Vargas was my new Dominant. Christ, that meant that even if Vargas did come out Angelo was likely to rip him apart for things he hadn't done. Just great, all I wanted was to get back into the groove of the play parties & I would end up causing Sophie Anne's party, her guests, and her house to come to ruin. I should've stayed home. "Vargas!" Now Angelo was yelling for him. The patio door flung open, scaring me so much I pissed myself again. Vargas came striding out of the house towards us, while Sophie Anne stood framed in the doorway, a riding crop in her right hand. "You bellowed, Sir," he said to Angelo. "And you been fucking my submissive," Angelo said, "she called for you when I came here to take possession of her. And you," he pointed the end of the cane at me, "you fuck black guys now, you dirty whore." "With all due respect, Sir," Vargas said calmly, "this woman is a guest at Mistress Sophie Anne's party, but I am not." "What? What are you, a goddamn waiter?" Angelo laughed. "No. I'm Dungeon Master Vargas. You know what a Dungeon Master does, right?" "You're fucking the Dungeon Master," he looked at me. I didn't even dignify that with a response. "Vargas," I said, "I'm sorry I dismissed you earlier," I said, "I thought...never mind what I thought. Clearly I was wrong. Anyway, this man is an interloper, a party crasher." "No apologies necessary," he said, "now about this party crasher. Did he hurt you?" "We were just talking," Angelo said. "He grabbed me 'round the neck, choked the shit out of me. Dragged me clear across the patio. I'm more scared than anything else though," I said, "I have some not so fond memories of that cane he's got." "I heard more than enough. Your weapon, Sir," Vargas said, grabbing the cane from Angelo. By this point, Sophie Anne had come out herself, with Rex on a leash. Vargas handed Angelo's cane to Sophie Anne. "Mistress," he said, "it's Your home, Your party, the interloper's weapon is Yours to keep." "Thank you, Vargas," Sophie put down her riding crop and leaned on the cane, "it's really a man's cane, but it suits me for when I wear slacks and go into Manhattan. You've wet yourself," she said to me, "are you OK?" "Promised you I'd stain this dress," I laughed. "Let's get you inside," she said, "get you cleaned up and find you something to wear." She started to lead me towards the house, Rex following. "Mistress," Vargas called after us, "what about the interloper himself?" "Take him down the basement," she said, "get Gaultier and Charles to help. Tell them the party crasher came here not knowing how to treat a woman and he must be taught tonight." I saw Vargas pin Angelo's hands behind his back and start taking him towards the house. I knew Gaultier and Charles to have been her father's bodyguards before he went "away", and I knew Sophie Anne kept the two of them on. They usually hovered in the shadows, but when she needed them, they were there. The basement, well when the house had been a convent, the nuns had used it as a fall-out shelter...of course that was decades ago. And while there was no need for a fall out shelter anymore, nobody would hear Angelo make any noise while learning his lesson. "Come on," Sophie Anne said. "I've ruined the evening," I said, as she took me inside. "Bullshit, girl," she said, "everybody else is happily flogging, fingering, and nipple-clamping each other in my upstairs rooms. They don't even know what happened." "But you do," I said, "I'm so sorry. You're my only friend in the world and I disrespected your house with-" "I'm your only friend in the world because I don't consider what happened tonight any disrespect," she said, leading me through the kitchen. There's a room off the kitchen, everybody thinks it's a servant's room, and Sophie Anne wants them to think that. In actuality it's neither a servant's room nor a pantry. It's the only bedroom suite in the house that is never made available to the party guests who come to cavort there. She pulled a key out of her riding boot, unlocked the door to this room, and said "Rex, you keep guard while Cara and I do girl stuff, OK," and unclipped Rex' leash from his collar, leaving him outside the door to that room. Inside, it was actually a spartan bedroom and bathroom suite, not what anyone else would expect from the opulent Sophie Anne. I wondered if Rex had even seen the inside of this room. I felt safe in here, not because Rex was guarding the door, not because I knew Angelo was downstairs getting beaten within an inch of his life. I just felt safe. Sophie Anne unzipped my dress for me, helped me out of it. I left it in a heap on the floor. I stood patiently while she filled the claw footed tub, like a child waiting to be bathed. When it was filled, I didn't step so much as I sank into the water, desperate to be cleansed and begin anew. I felt helpless and childlike as Sophie Anne washed my body with a loofah. She even washed my hair. When I stepped out of the tub and wrapped a fluffy towel around myself, I felt like a new woman. The makeup artist, Anya, had appeared to paint my face. I left my hair down. "What'll I wear?" I asked. "Try this," she handed me a loose tea gown, something very Roman-looking. It fitted neatly over my curves. "You won't need shoes," she said. Looking in the mirror, I almost didn't recognize myself. The dress was very pretty, white muslin that flattered my curves and draped nicely. Without shoes, I felt like I wasn't trying to impress anyone. "Now this," Sophie Anne said, as I felt her plop something on my head. In the mirror I saw it was a crown of flowers. "Why do you crown me?" I asked. "Why not," she said. "You look beautiful, all ready for a walk in the garden." With that, we left the secret bedroom suite, Sophie Anne locking it behind us. She clipped Rex' leash back on his collar. He'd been good and guarded us well while we were in there. She led me toward the back door of the house, which opened onto a garden. When her mother had lived there, the garden had been an actual garden...tomato plants, rosemary, actual growing things. Now, it was all wild flowers. She shooed me out the door. "Go on, get." Figuring I'd taken enough of her time (she did have other guests and I'm sure she wanted to play with Rex) I ventured into the garden. The cool earth felt wonderful on my bare feet. In the dark I moved carefully. If I remembered right, there was a bench somewhere, I could sit and relax with my toes in the earth. So what if I didn't play. I showed up, I made an effort, and maybe that was enough for one night. By some miracle, I found the bench in the dark and sat down, careful not to wrinkle the dress. "So are you all right," a deep, cultured voice on my left asked, "were you hurt at all earlier?" Startled, I turned to see Vargas standing there. "Sorry to sneak up on you," he said, "but I couldn't leave without knowing you're all right." "Leave?" I said, confused. "I've been let go from Mistress' employ," he said, "for failure to perform my job. It's customary to leave your place of employment upon being let go." "You didn't fail to anything," I said, "and sit down." He sat beside me. "I didn't think I needed you, and I was wrong. I'm sorry she fired you. Was this your full time job?" "Don't have one," he said, "used to be Officer Vargas Williams, NYPD. Six months ago my partner and I were in a shoot out with a drug dealer, a real bad guy. Drug dealer uses a kid as a human shield. I thought I had a clean shot, so I took it...I was wrong." "Oh," I said, "I'm so sorry. What happened?" He looked at me. "Aside from the obvious, I mean." "Everybody said it was a good shooting, clean shooting. But, I couldn't wear the gun again after that." "I get that," I said, "so what, now you work private security?" "Well I was always into D/s," he said, "wasn't something I could just announce when I wore a badge. I mean, most cops are pretty strait-laced 'bout sex. But I was always into it. So I started going to clubs and exploring. I could handle myself when trouble happened, so I got asked to fill in for Monitor here and there. So I figured why not hire myself out for private parties." "Well then I'm sorry," I said, "Sophie Anne fired you because of me, getting fired is gonna be bad for your business. And you stayed around to make sure I'm OK." I shook my head in disbelief. "Why?" "My business," he laughed, "I can always get more business. And why d'you think I stayed around to make sure you're OK? You look stunning, by the way. I mean, I liked the blue thing, but this is...wow." "Thank you," I said, "I guess I should let Sophie Anne dress me more often. So, Vargas, Dom or sub?" "Dom," he said, "but not like the thing they dragged down to the basement," he slid a little closer, "I have a heart." "I like that," I said. "I like YOU," he said. Becoming Veronica Carla and I had been planning this night for weeks. My heart pounded in my chest as we entered the dark vestibule and Carla knocked softly on the door. A sliver of light shined through the tiny opening as an almost hidden panel slid sideways in the heavy wooden door. "Password?" A husky male voice whispered through the tiny opening. Carla replied, "John Mitchel." Giving the hidden doorman the name of New York's previous mayor who had been voted out of office in 1917 for his support of the 18th Amendment to the constitution better known as prohibition. The small hatch slid closed with a thud and for a moment I thought Carla's inside information about the correct password was wrong. But my fear of rejection lasted only a moment as the heavy door opened and a big burly Irish looking gentleman in a sharp tuxedo spoke to Carla and me. "Welcome to Grady's ladies." He said, his accent confirming his Irish ancestry. As we entered I knew I was taking a step up the social ladder. Grady's was everything I'd heard about the upscale speakeasies of New York. Its lavish appointments a far cry from the blind pigs where two old beer barrels and a rough cut wooden plank served as a bar in the dives of lower Manhattan. In my mind I'd finally made it to the upper class of society in New York having gained admittance to what I thought was a fancy speakeasy. But perhaps I should explain where I'd come from so you can understand why it is that I felt I'd finally made it. I was born on the first day of spring in 1902 in an obscure eastern Pennsylvania coal mining town. My father spent his entire life in the bowels of the earth digging out a meager existence bringing anthracite coal out to feed the nations growing need for cheap fuel. My mother, bless her soul, named me Catherine after the blessed saint of our church and wanted her daughter to be educated just like she was. She sent me to Saint Catherine's Catholic School for girls at the tender age of six. Mom worked at the church and was often rewarded for her efforts with bushels of fresh food from the priests. In my teens I grew to believe that her rewards weren't so much for her efforts to help the church, but rather to service the priests, but that's a tale for another time and place. Other than being known in town as one of St Cat's good little catholic girls I can honestly say that the only good things to come from my formal education was a repugnance for the catholic nuns who constantly preached to us about our generations seeming lust for sins of the flesh and the development of my love for the taste of communion wine Its sweet taste and the warming sensation it had on my throat each Sunday morning was something I looked forward to. You can imagine my disappointment when in February of 1920 the church fathers gave in to the growing admonishment of the do-gooders at St Catherine's and began serving grape juice instead of red wine for communion. Prohibition had made its way even into my tiny little part of the world, and I hated it. By the time I turned eighteen in June of 1920 I was ready to part with St Catherine's and everything associated with it, including my parents. I left the obscurity of my upbringing for the hustle and bustle of the big city, Scranton Pennsylvania. Scranton was to be nothing more than a whistle stop on a journey to my ultimate goal the excitement, the glitz and glamour of the Big Apple, New York. But it took me over 2 years to finally reach that goal. I arrived in Manhattan in September of 1922 carrying a single case and a small old purse containing next to nothing. Fortunately I had one asset that many women arriving in New York didn't have my good looks and captivating smile. Those assets were instrumental in landing a job waiting tables at Momma Roma's which is where I met Carla. Carla a born and raised New York Italian suggested we share a two bedroom apartment on the west side within walking distance to Momma's and many of the crusty blind pig dives of that part of Manhattan. Carla unlike many Italian girls could have been the master mold for the flapper image that has become so popular in the last few years. Her thin build and small perky tits are perfect with the straight almost stove pipe dresses of today's fashion elite. Many girls pay a lot of money to have their hair dyed the rich jet black color of Carla's natural hair. The bob cut short in back and slightly longer in front so a curl of hair extends from the hats she always wears. At twenty one years old Carla had embraced the entire Flapper life style and has perfected the look almost beyond belief. Her pale almost pallor mortis complexion contrasting harshly with the scarlet red lip stick and richly ringed eyes giving her the debauched appearance embraced by all the flapper girls. Her wardrobe matches her appearance. Consisting of a step-in, which has replaced the classic victorian corset, one piece, light, exceedingly brief but roomy. Her dresses are also brief cut low where it might be high, and vice versa. The skirts come just an inch below her knees, overlapping by a faint fraction her rolled and twisted stockings. The idea is that when she walks in a bit of a breeze, you can catch a glimpse of the knee but always in an accidental, Venus-surprised-at-the-bath sort of way. This is a bit of coyness which hardly fits in with Carla's general character. Carla embraces not only the look but also the life style of a flapper, smoking cigarettes using a long holder, drinking illegal liquor as often as possible flaunting herself to men at the drop of a hat and even attending petting parties. She is without doubt the quote unquote ultimate Flapper girl. I don't quite fit the image as clearly as Carla. My figure is fuller, more on the side of a classic Victorian woman. My full breasts thin waist and flaring hips giving me the nearly perfect hourglass figure with out the need to be constrained in a cumbersome corset. When I arrived in Manhattan one of the first things I did after getting my first pay from Momma's was to have my mousy brown hair bleached platinum blonde. My natural wavy shoulder length hair one asset I couldn't give up to the current fashion and fad of the 1920's. Because of my more shapely form I forego the angular lines of today's flapper fashions opting instead for the captivating look of society's sophisticated upper class of women. I have added much to Carla's chagrin the latest in high fashion that being pants and a suit jacket with silk blouses under the coat. I'm able to show off my shapely hips and when called for my sexy cleavage to the right male suitor. Carla and I often contrast quite well when we're out on the town, she with the happy go lucky live life to the fullest attitude of the flapper rage, and I with the sensuous alluring style of a charming seductress. We certainly draw our share of attention where ever we may be, and now that we're finding access to the more high class joints around town I'm hopeful that the gentlemen we attract will be of a higher social standard as well. What I really want is to find a gentleman with a huge bank roll who finds me to be his ultimate siren and Grady's was the place that search would begin. The smoke filled dimly lit room we were ushered into by the burly Irish doorman was just what I expected. Full of people dressed to the nines and everyone puttin on the Ritz. What I first noticed about Grady's was the permanent appearance of its appointments. A real bar and stage where their entertainment preformed. Grady's had no need to be quickly transformed into some other kind of establishment other than what it really is, obviously because the local law enforcement officials were either already enjoying themselves there, or had accepted the gifts of their brethren the Irish owners of the place. In this part of New York most cops' last names started with O' and prohibition was more an inconvenience than a law to be obeyed. We were hardly in the place before a good looking young man whisked Carla off to the dance floor where I was certain she's spend most of the night fox trotting or doing the latest dance craze The Charleston. Left along I made my way to the bar and found a stool with an open seat beside for my friend just in case Carla wanted a break sometime tonight. I slipped up onto the bar stool sitting sideways and crossed my legs giving any man who choose to a chance to look at my silk covered ankle. Looking around the room there were more than a few very handsome men some wearing tuxedos some wearing tailored suits and almost all with a glamorous woman hanging onto their arm. I flipped my blonde tresses to one shoulder and turned my head to address the bartender who had walked over to greet me. "What'll ya have doll?" He asked. "Wine please red wine please." I replied. Smiling he said, "Coming up doll." I turned to face the bar more directly but kept my legs crossed and a hint of ankle exposed and opened my small clutch bag to remove my cigarettes and holder. Just as I pressed a cigarette into the holder the bartender returned with my drink placing it on a tiny napkin directly in front of me. I smiled at him and shook my head slightly causing my waves of platinum blonde hair to cascade over my shoulders and my bangs to slightly cover one eye. Holding my cigarette up I said, "Have a light handsome?" The bartender reached into his vest pocket with two fingers and produced a book of matches. He struck the match against the flint and after it flashed extended his hand palm up with the match between his index and middle finger. I leaned toward him slightly and inhaled through my holder and drawing smoke into my lungs. With the match still glowing in my face and a strand of hair covering one eye I looked up at him and said, "Thanks baby." "Welcome doll." He replied adding, "You're new here aren't you?" "Yes this is the first time I've been here." I responded. "Well doll the first drink is on me but after this one it's a cash bar, okay." He said. "No problem." I said slipping a fiver from my clutch and sliding it toward him on the bar. His grin told me he wanted to make sure he wouldn't get stiffed for my drinks "What's your name doll?" He asked. I hesitated for a moment then lied to him, "It's Veronica." I can't say exactly why I lied to this complete stranger. Other than the fact that I don't believe Catherine is a very glamorous name I have no idea why at that particular moment I decided that from then on I would be known as Veronica. "Veronica huh." He replied, "You don't have a last name Veronica?" Before I could answer a voice to my left said, "Shawn, let the young lady alone and give us another round down here." Looking to my left I spotted an older looking gentleman with a younger woman on each arm. He smiled and spoke to Shawn as he walked away from me. "Same thing Mr. O'Reily?" Shawn said. "That'll do for now Shawn." O'Reily replied. I wanted to thank O'Reily for distracting Shawn. His request for a round of drinks gave me time to think of a sir name to go with my new first name. My mind raced knowing this cute bartender would be back for an answer to his question. No sooner had Shawn finished pouring O'Reily a double shot from a bottle with a Maple Leaf proudly displayed on it and a couple fruity drinks for his companions he turned his attention back to me. So you're Shawn are you?" I questioned him adding, "Just Shawn or do you have an Irish sir name to go with it?" Shawn grinned widely and replied, "Smythe, it's Shawn Smythe and no I'm not Irish." "Smythe is British isn't it?" I questioned him. "Yes, but don't tell any of these Irishmen that okay Veronica." Shawn whispered as he leaned closer to me. I took a deep drag on my cigarette and blew smoke in his face before I offered, "Well it's my pleasure to meet you Mr. Smythe." "Oh please let's not be so formal doll, you can call me Shawn." He offered. "Now are you going to tell me your last name Veronica?" Shawn asked. "Can you keep a secret Shawn?" I asked him first. "Sure doll my lips are sealed." Shawn responded. "Well actually it's Lacey, Veronica Lacey." I said continuing my lying for reasons unknown to me. "Your last name is Lacey?" Shawn said with a growing smile on his lips. "What's so funny Mr. Smythe?" I asked. Shawn leaned over the bar and motioned for me to lean closer to him. His lips moved right next to my ear. The scent of his cologne wafted into my nostrils a very pleasurable scent that I inhaled deeply. He whispered, "I'm wondering if your name matches your panties Veronica?" I turned my face to his, our lips barely inches apart. His eyes sparkled and stared into mine. "Panties? What panties?" I whispered. Shawn grinned and replied, "I'm gonna like having you visit here Veronica." As he moved away I again inhaled his scent letting the masculine odor of his cologne burn into my brain. I tried to memorize his look, his eyes and that wonderful scent. I watched Shawn as he worked the bar making drinks and conversing with the customers seated at his bar. He is probably in his late twenties nicely built and has straight dark hair which he combs straight back along his scalp. I doubt he has the kind of bank roll that I'd hope for but he certainly is a sexy man and having him as an acquaintance may prove to be helpful in meeting the high rollers who frequent Grady's After finishing my cigarette I turned again to sit sideways on the stool resting my arm on the back gave anyone who was interested a look at my profile from head to toe. The satiny fabric of my dress clung nicely to my figure clearly defining the outline of my breast and shapely thigh. With just a hint of leg showing below the hem I was certain I'd attract attention and hopefully give the appearance of a classy seductress. I left my hair draped slightly over my face hiding most of my facial features but showing off the long wavy platinum tresses. I sat there sipping my wine not really making eye contact with anyone in the place, but always aware of who may be checking me out. Carla finally joined me with her dance partner in tow. She slid onto the open stool beside me and introduced me to Mickey a youthful looking red haired Irish boy. They both had beads of sweat formed on their foreheads and Carla's hair looked a little wet at the tips. "Can I buy you ladies a drink?" Mickey asked. I declined since I still had half a glass of wine to nurse, but Carla and Mickey each had Shawn get them a draught of Grady's finest lager. Mickey kept checking me out eyeing up my body. I sure he was thinking how much he'd like to fuck me but at the same time knowing that I was out of his league. Carla was more his type, he could keep her busy on the dance floor and if he got lucky get her drunk enough for a quickie in some dark alley nearby. Carla and Mickey finished their lager and headed back to the dance floor leaving me alone once again. As the evening wore on more and more people filtered into Grady's. Most of the seats at the bar were taken with the exception of Carla's stool next to me. Shawn was kept busy filling customers drink orders, and didn't have a chance to return to me so I could flirt with him again. I finished my wine and held the empty glass up so Shawn would know I was ready for a re-fill. "Same thing Veronica?" Shawn asked as he grabbed for the iced bottle of wine next to his work station. "Yes please." I replied smiling widely at him. "You're very busy tonight." I said as he slowly poured my wine. "My helper will be here shortly then I'll have some time to relax and visit with you doll." Shawn replied. I continued smiling as I said, "I'd like that Shawn." batting my sexy eye lashes at him. My little flirt didn't go un-noticed either as Shawn took my five dollar bill and returned with five ones which he placed on the bar spread apart so I could see that he was covering up the fact that I'd would be drinking for free. After all the three or four glasses of wine that I'd have that evening could easily be lost as spillage and Shawn's employer wouldn't know any better. I pulled another smoke out and pressed it into my holder. Shawn was there in a flash again lighting me. But this time he let his hands cup mine as he moved the burning match to my cigarette. His fingertip slid along the back of my hand, soft gentle fingers that moved ever so slowly along the length of my fingers as he withdrew the match. I leaned forward and blew the match out looking into his eyes as my pursed lips directed the air toward burning match. Some people communicate an interest verbally, but Shawn and I had just made physical contact that clearly indicated to us both just how interested we were in each other. He smiled and moved away returning to his duties as bartender. A short while later Shawn approached me once again. "Miss Lacey, the gentleman across the bar would like to buy you a drink." He said. I looked across the bar. A middle aged gray haired gentleman dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive tailored suit raised his glass in a toast to me. I smiled and turned my eyes to Shawn. "Please tell the gentleman that I appreciate his very kind gesture, but I will have to decline his most generous offer." I said Shawn looked at me and said, "Veronica do you have any idea whose offer you are declining?" "I don't care if he is the god damn king of Ireland. I don't let strange men buy me drinks." I shot back at Shawn. Shawn leaned close to me and said, "Doll that's Patrick O'Malley he might as well be the King of Ireland lord knows he's as powerful. Are you sure about the drink Veronica?" "Absolutely Mr. Smythe, tell the gentleman I declined." I replied. Shawn shrugged his shoulders and shook his head as he turned and walked across to the other side of the bar. O'Malley listened to Shawn then broke into a huge smile and laughed loud enough for almost everyone in the place to hear. I have to assume he isn't used to being rejected by women in here and found it completely amusing that I had refused his offer. I could have been making a huge mistake declining O'Malley. I'm certain his bank roll is twice the size of his cock but at this point I wasn't so sure I'd want to take his cock just to get at his bank roll. I was enjoying watching all the people having a good time, but was more than a little surprised that no men closer to my age had approached me. Carla came bouncing back to her stool. Even more sweaty than before and looking somewhat disheveled from the nearly sixty minutes of constant dancing. "He wants to take me back to his place." She said. "You just met him Carla, you're not really considering going back to his place are you?" I responded. Carla said, "He told me I'm beautiful!" "Carla, he looks like he's maybe nineteen or twenty at the most. He'd tell you that you remind him of Venus de Milo if it got his dick in you." I replied. "But I like him." Carla wined, "He's so cute." She added. "Well Carla you do what you like, but I bet you'll regret it in the morning." I remarked. "I might regret it in the morning, but I'll enjoy it tonight." Carla replied giggling like a teenager about to get her first kiss. "Will you be okay Catherine?" She asked. "I'll be fine Carla it's a short walk home." I said. This wasn't the first time she'd left me alone like this and I was certain it wouldn't be the last. As I watched Carla and Mickey leave I wondered if I'd actually be making that short walk home alone. Grady's was really jumpin by this time. Almost every table and stool at the bar was taken and the band was into full swing. Shawn was starting to look like a chicken with its head cut off by the time his help arrived. Once his helper got into the swing of things behind the bar Shawn came over to me.