Chapters A Holsom Women's Social Chapter 8

“We’re…indisposed, at the moment.” Clarissa called to whomever was beyond the powder room door. Julia’s voice came back in something like a hiss.

“Oh, tell whichever poor thing you have bullied into your perversions that the gentleman with me is only here for you, Clarissa.”

“Why would a man be here to see you?” Cherry asked in a whisper. Julia seemed to be upset with Clarissa for some reason and she didn’t want to accidentally get in the middle. Especially not if a man might be watching! She did another quick check of her makeup in the vanity mirror. This could be the first time any man other than Francis would see her in months. She wiggled a little in anticipation, trying not to be too excited.

“I…I don’t know.” Clarissa sat up away from the mirror, frowning at the door. She seemed even more nervous than Cherry. “Julia would have said if it’s Roger.” Her frown deepened. “The only other thing I can think of is…but, no!” Her eyes went wide, nerves giving way to fear. Cherry was a bit taken aback by the sudden shift as Clarissa turned towards her, voice growing panicked. “My girls…! Cherry, I have to say goodbye to Helen and Nadine!”

Clarissa was down off the countertop in an instant, backing up to the rear wall awkwardly on her single pleaser. She stared at the door in horror. There was another loud bang before a deep male voice boomed from the other side.

“Open up or I’m coming in anyway!”

The maid moved towards the door, presumably to remove Clarissa’s other pleaser from where it was wedged into the crack.

“No!” Clarissa shouted, and she kicked the maid’s legs out from under it, sending the retiree crashing to the floor faster than its arms could swing around to break the fall.

Clarissa!” Cherry exclaimed, shocked at the display of violence from the other woman. She quickly knelt beside the fallen retiree, forgetting in her concern that she was unable to assist. “Are you alright?” She asked, but it obviously did not respond. Its arms had at least made it to a position where they were able to raise the maid back up onto its knees. It wobbled, struggling to stand the rest of the way.

Clarissa’s voice was frantic now.

“She was going to let them in, Cherry! They’re going to make me like her!”

“What?” Cherry asked but before Clarissa could respond the door burst inwards, narrowly missing Cherry and the maid as it swung around on its hinges with enough force to scrape the pleaser across the floor. Julia stood triumphantly in the doorway, beside the wide chested man who had just kicked the door in. He was broad, and strong, with short, curly hair framed by the light streaming in from the tall sitting room windows.

Cherry stared in shock. “Francis?! What a wonderful surprise!” She exclaimed as Francis strode into the powder room. It was very crowded with the three of them and the maid, but he didn’t say a word to Cherry as he brushed her aside. “Clarissa, don’t be afraid! It’s Francis!”

Clarissa managed to pull her terrified gaze from Francis for a moment, her expression mixing with confusion and concern as she looked at Cherry. “Cherry, that’s not—Ow!” Francis had grabbed a fistful of her hair, and was casually pulling her back towards the door. With no arms to resist his iron grip on her curls, she went easily even as her legs fought desperately to remain in place.

“Come on, let’s get you out in the open.” He said, his voice almost lazy now that his obstacles had been cleared. Cherry beamed at him as he passed, but again he failed to so much as acknowledge her. Frowning, she followed him and Clarissa out of the powder room.

“There must be some mistake!” Clarissa was pleading, “My husband wouldn’t do this without a ceremony, without a goodbye! Please…my daughters—”

“No mistake, and it’s not up to me.” Francis grumbled, cutting Clarissa off. He seemed to be only half listening anyway. “If it was, you’d have gotten the ceremony. Surprise pick ups like this never go as smoothly. We had a hell of a time finding you; searched the whole crowd and half the house before I decided to wake up the hostess and ask if she knew where you were hiding.”

Cherry looked out across the crowded sitting room. Every woman besides herself, Julia, and Clarissa stood stiffly, staring straight ahead. An Intermission! Francis said he’d woken Julia, a common term for removing the blocks on a woman’s vision and hearing, but how were she and Clarissa still aware? Had being in the powder room really been enough to exclude them entirely?

“I knew right where you’d be.” Julia said, her expression pleasant as always but her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “And I have to say I feel a certain sense of justice at being given the chance to assist this gentleman with apprehending you in the middle of one of your…dalliances.” She looked at Cherry. “Honestly, Cherry, I thought better of you.”

Cherry blinked.

“But we were only talking!”

Exactly.” Julia spat back.

“Oh lay off her you old sow!” Clarissa snarled. “Your time will be up eventually, and then we’ll see how long it takes every woman in town to pretend you never even existed. _You think I don’t know why you hold these little parties? You’re as transparent as my wedding dress. No one will remember you, Julie_. No one—Wait, what are you—?!“

Francis had pulled an aerosol canister from a holster on his belt, promptly raised the spray nozzle to Clarissa’s open mouth and let loose a quick burst.

Clarissa slammed her jaw shut, eyes bulging in shock. Her cheeks immediately began to puff out, and then a cream colored substance overflowed like a bubble bath through her pursed lips. Slowly her mouth was forced open as creamy foam expanded to fill the cavity. It was clear she was trying to scream, but if anything got through it was entirely inaudible to Cherry just a few feet away. Tears of frustration fell from her eyes, running down bulging cheeks reddened by her efforts to make a sound.

“That’s better.” Francis said. “Mrs. Drestin, will you please run and tell my partner that I’ve found our quarry? I think he went to search the garden. When you’ve done that, please let your husband know that we’ll be out of his home before four o’clock. And a lovely home it is, by the way. Pass on my compliments as well.”

“Y-yes…” Julia murmured, staring at Clarissa, clearly shaken, but whether by the other woman’s words or her rough treatment Cherry wasn’t sure. “I’ll go fetch the other gentleman. And I’ll tell Harold…what you said.” She hurried away, carefully threading between her blind, deaf guests, all blinking, staring into nothingness as the drama unfolded.

“Now,” Francis told Clarissa as he released his grip on her curls. Without him holding her up by the hair, Clarissa immediately dropped to her knees rather than stand on one pleaser. Her shoulders shook, the frustration faded but tears still falling as she stared at the floor. “You seem to know what’s happening so I’ll cut to the chase.” He raised the aerosol can. “I’m supposed to blast this into all your holes. Once I do that, you’re officially no longer a woman. The foam is temporary; they’ll seal you up properly when you get the fancy suit, but legally you’re retired the moment I fill you in. Got it?”

Clarissa nodded weakly.

She had known it was coming, if not right away, but that clearly didn’t make it any easier to accept that her life as a woman was over. Cherry had never seen this part of the process before. It wasn’t unheard of for a woman to simply disappear, and the assumption would be that she had been retired, but there was usually a more formal ceremony involved. Particularly if the new wife had already been chosen, in which case it was often incorporated into the wedding.

Cherry’s mother had greeted her replacement with a kiss on the marriage altar before a uniformed man led her back up the same aisle that the new woman had just been led down. There had been happy tears in her eyes — bittersweet, perhaps, but certainly not the angry, sorrowful ones Clarissa’s held now — when she murmured her final goodbye to a young Cherry as she passed. That was the last time Cherry had seen her mother, as far as she knew. She hoped that whatever had happened beyond the double doors at the end of the chapel had been more pleasant than what Clarissa was experiencing now. Retirement was an honor, after all. A way for a woman to continue a life of service beyond her usefulness as a wife.

None of that explained why Francis was the one who had come to retire Clarissa, though.

“Francis, what’s going on?” Cherry asked, taking a few steps towards him to stand at his side.

As Clarissa is retired, Cherry asks Francis why he is here.

“Name’s not Francis, babe.” Francis said nonchalantly. He pointed at a spot further away than where Cherry had been just a moment ago, clearly indicating that was where he wanted her. “How ‘bout you be a good girl and keep quiet while I talk with your friend, alright?”

“Ok!” Cherry nodded and went to where he was pointing. She would have to hold her questions until Francis was done talking with Clarissa.

He returned his attention to the woman at his feet. “Anyway, like I was saying. I’ve got an Intermission order on this room for the next half hour or so. I have until then to seal you up and get you outta here. That’s plenty of time to give you one last memory of being used like a woman before you never get that chance again. So that is my offer to you, take it or leave it, but choose fast.”

Clarissa’s face shot up, and she glared at him around her filled mouth. But the heat in her expression faded quickly as fresh tears welled in her eyes. She slumped her shoulders and hung her head again. A long moment passed before she gave it a slow shake, declining whatever offer Francis had made. Cherry didn’t really follow the whole proceeding, but she felt sorry that her new friend seemed so sad. Francis wasn’t bothered though. He just shrugged.

“Your loss. Lower your face to the floor, please. We’ll do the ass first.”

Clarissa did as he commanded, more tears shaking loose as she bent forward to present her butt.

“Maid!” Francis barked. “Come here and hold her open for me. My partner’s still taking his time in the garden, it seems.”

Cherry noticed for the first time that the powder room maid had followed them all the way out into the main room. It moved with a surprising strut towards Clarissa, as if eager to comply. It seemed to use an unnecessary amount of force in spreading Clarissa’s cheeks, as well; digging its fingers into her soft skin and wrenching them apart to reveal the vulnerable hole. If Cherry hadn’t known better she might have said it seemed…vindictive. Perhaps whatever was responsible for regulating the retirees’ usual graceful movement had been damaged when Clarissa knocked this one down.

A maid pins Clarissa down for her sealing.

Clarissa had no undergarments, and the hem of her skin-tight dress had gone from mid-thigh to well above her hips by now, offering no protection in the slightest. Francis brought the nozzle of the aerosol can directly to meet the soft pink bud of her sphincter. Five long seconds passed with his finger depressing the trigger. With just a quick spurt being sufficient to stop up Clarissa’s throat, Cherry shuddered to think how much foam had just been blasted into the woman’s bum. Clarissa squirmed pitifully, trying to wriggle away, but the maid actually planted its knee on her back, pinning her torso to the carpet. The pressure caused her breasts to bulge out to either side, popping free of her dress, and revealing the source of the tinkling sound Cherry had noticed earlier: little bells pierced to each of Clarissa’s nipples, now with no fabric to keep them quiet.

Cherry watched as the spray expanded, a mushroom of the semi-solid foam blooming where there had once been a tight rosebud. Her butt completely filled, Francis moved the aerosol to Clarissa’s final hole, but delayed in firing.

“Offer still stands.” He said, “Last chance to change your mind.”

There was another long pause while Clarissa considered. Her eyes were closed, her expression pained. The foam was still growing a bit from what Cherry could see, and she imagined it hurt a lot. She had never taken something so large back there herself, not even during her standardized testing at school. The weight of the mysterious decision seemed to be bothering Clarissa more though. She opened her eyes and immediately closed them again with a small wince when she saw Cherry watching her. Oddly, it was only then that her tears started again.

Clarissa gave a feeble nod before she pressed her face down into the thick teal carpeting.

“Thaaaats what I like to see.” Francis rose, replacing the aerosol can on his belt before going to undo the buckle at the front. “Let go of her.” That was to the maid, who released her grip on Clarissa’s butt and stood up. Cherry watched Clarissa suck deep, shaky breaths through the carpet. The maid had probably been compressing her lungs, leaning its full weight on her back like that. From the way her body shook, ringing the nipple bells that had been freed of her confining dress, it seemed like she might be crying even harder than before. Cherry couldn’t see her face for the way she’d pressed it to the floor, though. Hopefully she was just catching her breath.

Francis’ pants were around his knees before Cherry realized what was about to happen.

“Francis, no!” She gasped, “You can’t!”

“Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”

“But I—but—“ Cherry stammered, struggling to give voice to her objection.

“Woah, the party’s started already?”

That last came from a man only just now coming through the crowd, moving wives out of his way somewhat carelessly. He seemed unconcerned about shoving the women aside, but at least he didn’t send anyone toppling. Losing one’s balance was already a grave danger on high heels and with no arms to catch the fall, but it was especially so when blinded as well. The women he passed stumbled a bit, but Cherry imagined that was more so in shock at being touched during an Intermission than a necessary measure to keep their footing.

She was quite shocked herself, and not only because people were moving around when everyone should have been stock still. Men were free to move about during an Intermission, of course, but actually seeing it was something she’d never imagined. And this particular man was the last person she’d expected. He was young, not much older than herself, with a thin, lanky body matched by thin, scraggly facial hair. Cherry was so thrilled to see him!

“Francis!” She exclaimed, turning slightly to face her husband as he slipped between two women and came into the open space around the powder room door. “What a wonderful surprise!”

“Uh…yeah.” Francis said. He turned to a man closer to Cherry, who had his trousers down for some reason. “I see you’ve found who we were looking for, but who’s this?”

Cherry followed Francis’ gaze to keep up with the conversation, smiling.

The other man paused in the act of lowering his boxers. He was thickly muscled, and Cherry lovingly remembered the feel of those strong hands on her body. But what was her husband doing here, of all places? Whatever the reason, she was overjoyed!

“Francis!” She exclaimed, “What a wonderful surprise!”

“She was with this one,” Francis gave a small kick to the thigh of a woman who was prostrate at his feet, completely exposed. The impact made her butt jiggle. Cherry almost choked. How could that woman display herself so lewdly, and to Cherry’s own husband no less! “They were both just outside the Intermission range, in that powder room over there. I’d block her out individually, but the extra paperwork’d be a nightmare and I’m not sure she realizes what’s happening anyway.”

“She on some kind of script or something?” The other man asked, frowning at Cherry. Wait…it was Francis! Where had her husband come from all of a sudden? As she opened her mouth to welcome Francis, another man interrupted her, and she turned to him.

“Nah, I think it’s a brain mod.” Francis said to…Francis? Huh? Something…wasn’t quite right. “Spin her around so she can’t see us both at the same time, that’ll probably help.”

A man grabbed Cherry by the shoulders and spun her around to face him directly. She quickly forgot whatever had been worrying her. In fact she could hardly contain her excitement! It was Francis!

“Fran—“

“Yeah, Francis, got it.” He said, cutting her off abruptly. “Alright, I’ll bite. Who the fuck is Francis?”

Cherry blinked in confusion.

“…you are?”

Francis waved his hand in the air, brushing her response away. “Yeah, I know, but who am I to you?

“You’re my husband, of course!” Cherry scoffed to herself, usually she was the one with the silly questions. Maybe he had decided to joke with her, after all?

“Oh, shit, Grady, did you hear that?” Francis called out, “I’m her husband!”

“Yeah, I heard.” Said a man somewhere behind Cherry. His voice sounded… familiar.

Francis’ beautiful grey eyes caught hers again before she could wonder. “How long have we been married, uh…” he glanced above her head for some reason. “…Cherry?”

“About four months…” Cherry murmured, suddenly insecure. Had he really forgotten already? The wedding had been a rather simplistic affair, but at least for her it was the most memorable day of her life! Maybe he’d just lost track of the intervening time. Cherry could have a hard time telling the days apart, too. Sometimes she had to think really hard to remember things that had happened between the wedding and now.

“Four months, Grady! When was the last time we had a girl this fresh, huh?”

“This one’s fresh enough for me.” The other voice replied from behind, again. Funny…it sounded like Francis. If he hadn’t been standing right in front of her, Cherry might have thought the other voice was Francis! Now that would be embarrassing. “She’s a bit old, sure,” the voice continued, “but with all that foam in her ass she’s probably as tight up front as she was on her wedding night.”

“Well…speaking of wedding nights,” Francis eyed her up and down, and Cherry glowed under his appreciative gaze. “…that just reminds me that my darling wife and I never consummated our marriage. We gotta fix that. Right, Cherry?”

“Fix…what?”

“I’m saying,” Francis drew close, twirling a ringlet of Cherry’s hair. His face was covered with those odd red splotches that sometimes afflicted young men, but she barely noticed at all. “Don’t you want me to fuck you?”

“Oh!” Cherry beamed, flooded with relief. “Yes, please!”

“Grady, she said please.” He threw up his hands. “C’mon, man, this is a golden opportunity!”

“Alright, alright. It should be fine as long as she thinks you’re this Francis guy.”

“Yessss!” He was eying her again, hungry. If it were anyone else she might have considered it a leer, but with him it made her proud. She wiggled for him, shaking her chest, and he chuckled. “Cherry when I’m done with you you’re gonna wish I really was your husband!”

“Huh?” She stopped wiggling.

“Nothin’, oh wife of mine. Here let me help you out of that dress…”


Find accompanying notes and illustrations on Slothargy’s DeviantArt and Pixiv